I was asked recently, “Why do you identify as a feminist?” And for a few moments, I didn’t have an answer. When I came to Cornell, it was the first time I really started to understand the purpose and value of feminism and then share that purpose and value publicly. However, I never stopped to ask myself, “Why have my beliefs turned into a self-assigned label?” After reflecting on this question I realized that I call myself a feminist because I want others to know that I recognize the persisting inequality. I call myself a feminist to bring awareness to the fact that gender has real impact on available opportunities. I call myself a feminist in the hopes that another feels comfortable doing the same so that together we can engage in a dialogue and action to fight for equality.
“‘Not to be sexist, but… I can’t vote for the leader of the free world to be a woman, just because — every other position that exists, I think a woman could do well. But, the president? It’s kinda like, I just know that women make rash decisions emotionally — they make very permanent, cemented decisions — and then later, it’s kind of like it didn’t happen, or they didn’t mean for it to happen. And I sure would hate to just set off a nuke. …
They called her “it.” They threw her to the ground, pinned her and punched her. They spread her legs, or “its” legs, open, and then seven of them took turns raping her repeatedly. They could justify this heinous crime because to them, she was not a person, she was an object. To them, leaving her bruised and bloodied on the ground was of no more consequence than the trail of red solo cups and beer cans left along the floor: Just something to be cleaned up and disposed of at party’s end. This story seems like it was written simply to draw a reaction, a story for a horror movie more disturbing than the rest in its genre.
It would be easy to give up and to disengage. It would be easy to keep our focus on 2016 so that we may forget the stark reality of the next two years. It would be easy, but it wouldn’t be us. We are a people with infinite capacity to speak up in the face of injustice, yet in the face of this Congress we keep holding back. In fact, two-thirds of registered voters did not show up to polls on election day.
Over a year ago, the crowd sitting in the Texas Senate Gallery set aside typical decorum and started chanting. Women’s rights were on the line and they refused to be silent. The people quite literally took a stand (#standwithWendy) and made their voices heard in the political arena, as is the intended prerogative of American citizens. That night, the people of Texas helped Senator Wendy Davis (D-Ft. Worth) successfully filibuster a bill that would severely limit women’s access to safe abortions.
The gridlock in Congress has convinced us to expect less and to accept that the progress we so desire will not take root in our society. We see this as fact, and not, as we should, as a betrayal of the promise of our government. We often forget that our government has an incredible ability to do right by the people because the light shines much more brightly on its limitations. And last week, when Senate Republicans blocked an up or down vote on the Paycheck Fairness Act, the American promise of equality became even more dim. Without the Paycheck Fairness Act, the loopholes undermining Equal Pay for Equal Work persist.
Despite her tireless work to improve the safety and welfare of Americans, despite proving time and time again that her mind is a powerful tool for progress and despite holding one of the most respected titles in the world, Senator Kirsten Gillibrand is still a target of sexist remarks. In her new book, “Off the Sidelines,” Senator Gillibrand cites examples of sexual harassment and sexism that she experienced in the halls of Congress. Though sexual harassment in the workplace is certainly not a new phenomenon, even in this infamously gridlocked Congress, Senators are still supposed to subscribe to a code of respect when talking to and about their colleagues. Apparently, though, sexism is an exception to that code. It is not often that people in positions of power recognize their own limitations, especially in the hallowed halls of Congress.
“I desire you would remember the ladies,” wrote Abigail Adams to her husband. Unfortunately, this simple call for women’s rights had little effect on the second President of the United States and the work of the Continental Congress. When the nation’s founders gathered to write a document of supreme law, a document that defied all precedents, the “ladies” and their rights were negated. While this country has made great strides in elevating the status of women, society still appears to be forgetting the ladies. August 26 was Women’s Equality Day, marking the 94th anniversary of women earning the right to vote.
Sam Kilroy ’14, a recent transfer to Cornell from Syracuse University, is a seasoned international progressive house DJ. Getting his start in the art at an early age, Sam, who goes by the stage name Mr. Kilroy, has performed in over 14 countries and in front of crowds in the thousands. Sam sat down with The Sun to discuss the club scene in China, what it is like to perform in front of Lebron James and Dwayne Wade and why a champagne bottle can be a DJ’s worst enemy. The Sun: So what’s the biggest crowd you’ve ever played for? Sam Kilroy: I did a show in China this past summer at this giant megaclub in Bejing in front of 4,000
Yep, it’s those Barenaked Ladies: the same zany quintet of Canadian rockers who were rapping about wasabi, samurai, and vanilla (“it’s the finest of the flavors”) when you were still in Middle School. And, sadly, that’s likely how they’ll be remembered: engrained in the collective memory of pop history as a bunch of talented and witty songwriters who, despite some substantial radio success, never really amounted to much more than a novelty act from the north. Yet their new album, recently released via Reprise, makes a compelling case to the contrary. Everything to Everyone is a spectacular showcase of the sophisticated humor, smart social commentary, and excellent songwriting that many critics have been harping on for years — but that never seemed to garner the group the commercial success they deserve.
The songs on Everything to Everyone are most notable for their ability to combine honesty and sincerity with a good dose of humor. Tracks like “Celebrity” and “Shopping” are deft swipes at societal excess, while “Next Time” is a touching testament to longing for a second chance. But all this mature and somber reflection doesn’t mean that BNL has lost their touch for jangly alternative rock. “Maybe Katie,” the album’s first single, features an infectious hook and lovely breezy vocal harmonies. “Testing 1,2,3” is another rocker that shows off the band’s penchant for anthemic choruses.
And of course, as is the case with every BNL outing, Everything to Everyone features the seemingly requisite bizarre track. This time around, “Another Postcard” fills the role admirably with a story to which many of us simply cannot relate. That is, of course, receiving anonymous postcards from overseas featuring chimpanzees in various suggestive poses and engaged in a wide range of lascivious chimp activities.
Like most of the BNL albums that have come before it, Everything to Everyone is slickly, but tastefully, produced. This time around, the credit goes to Ron Aniello (Guster, Lifehouse) who thankfully steers the band away from the stiff and uncomfortable posture they assumed on the 2001 commercial and artistic failure Maroon. Their new outing sounds much looser and more relaxed, as if some of the pressure to repeat previous successes has been diminished.
Principal songwriters Steven Page and Ed Robertson are in top form. Their vocal delivery is, as usual, wonderfully wry and quirky. The rest of the band also turns in a set of fine performances. In fact, the record’s only throwaway tracks are those on which the group dabbles with electronics and samples — an ill-advised and regrettable experiment.
It seems that as they’ve grown older, BNL is looking at things differently than they have in the past. Their humor, once used simply for its own sake, is now employed to target and examine personal failings, societal shortcomings, and some of the absurdities of everyday life. BNL has a whole new perspective on things — and that perspective is fresh, fun, poignant, and, most importantly, recommended listening.