Hot Four (thousand)

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If you haven’t bought this yet, WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU? But seriously, if you like jazz, then you should buy this live album. It’s just so fricking good. I’ve heard a couple of DJs complain that the songs are too long for DJing. To that, I say BAH!

‘Tuesdays at Mona’s’
Mona’s Hot Four
purchase directly on bandcamp

Personnel:
Mona’s Hot Four:
Dennis Lichtman – clarinet/session leader
Gordon Webster – piano
Nick Russo – banjo/guitar
Jared Engel – bass

Guests:
Emily Asher – trombone
Ehud Asherie – piano
Gordon Au – trumpet
Bob Curtis – clarinet
Mike Davis – trumpet
Jim Fryer – trombone
Miles Griffith – vocals (DVD only)
J. Walter Hawkes – trombone
Tamar Korn – vocals
David Langlois – washboard
Dan Levinson – clarinet
DAVID MCKAY – vocals
Nellie McKay – vocals (DVD only)
Andrew Nemr – tap dance
Jerron Paxton – vocals & banjo
Nathan Peck – bass
Molly Ryan – vocals
Bria Skonberg – trumpet
Dave Speranza – bass
Chris St. Hilaire – snare drum
Miss Tess – vocals
Murray Wall – bass (DVD only)

(musicians dancers probably know are in bold)

dancesplaining

ultracrepidarian
(image: “Ultracrepidarian: A person who gives opinions and advice on matters outside of one’s knowledge” from The Project Twins’ A-Z of Unusual Words)

I reckon this post about dancesplaining is good stuff. I like the way Jason expands the idea of mansplaining. Mansplaining is about power, and dancesplaining is about power. I like the way Jason has expanded the idea of explaining-as-power. He’s making the point that this act of power isn’t about biological sex, it’s about social power. This seems to be something that a bunch of commentary on sex and gender in dance getting about at the moment doesn’t seem to grasp.

In other words, while we might associate particular characteristics or qualities with masculinity or femininity (eg violence or aggression or technical know-how might be associated with masculinity in anglo-celtic discourse), they aren’t actually biologically determined. Men aren’t naturally aggressive or violent or good with tools (lol) because they have a bunch of testosterone or a dick or a brain wired in a certain way. Men often demonstrate violence or aggression or are the first to have a go with a tool because the society they grew up in encouraged them to be that way.

So mansplaining isn’t biologically determined, it’s an act of power, where the person explaining assumes they know more, and assume they have the right to speak/explain. When this explaining person is a man, explaining something to a woman, they’re often taking advantage of the fact that women in this same cultural context are brought up to be ‘polite’ and to avoid confrontation. That means avoiding interruption or telling an explainer that they already know this stuff. Avoiding conflict can also be about helping other people save face (and avoid embarrassment or loss of face/status). Many women help men save face to avoid conflict because in their experience conflict can often involve physical conflict: an angry, embarrassed man can be a violent man.

Danceplaining and mansplaining isn’t often malicious or deliberately dictatorial. It’s usually an unconscious demonstration of discursive power. Just as a man mightn’t stop to worry about whether that guy who just got on the train is about to sit next to them and make suggestive comments, a man who explains mightn’t stop to think about whether he should shoosh. In both examples, men have lived with the experience and idea that they will be safe on public transport, that they won’t be harassed, and that it’s ok to explore or explain their thinking out loud. Both of these public behaviours are about status, power and confidence in public space. They’re both also about the power of feeling safe enough to explore a new idea in front of other people.

If you want to have a bit of a read about the ‘mansplain’ concept, I suggest starting with Rebecca Solnit’s piece ‘Men Explain Things to Me: Facts Didn’t Get in Their Way’.

I like Jason’s piece because makes it clear that explaining – dancesplaining – isn’t necessarily about gender. While men might do it it women a lot in class, women quite often return the favour and explain to men why they’re doing things wrong. But I do think it’s about power, and I’d argue that certain types of power can be gendered (or associated with a particular gender identity) in certain contexts. So dancesplaining is often perpetrated more by men, and as most dance classes have more men leading than women, we see more leads/men dancesplaining to follows/women than vice versa. I’d probably add that a male lead teacher should be particularly careful not to paraphrase and repeat a point his female follow teaching partner has just made in class settings. That’s a type of mansplaining too.

Jason extends this thinking to explore how this type of behaviour in class affects the way we might think about leading and following generally.
I’d argue that dancesplaining (as a gendered behaviour) works with other gendered behaviour to create a continuum of gender and patriarchy. This is how discourse and ideology work: if it was just one little thing that bothered us (and we could fix with a quick solution), then feminism would be redundant within a couple of hours. But patriarchy is complicated. This is why I have troubles with the recent posts about ‘sexism’ on Dance World Takeover: the thinking is too simple, and the solutions are too simple. A reshuffling of ideas about connection isn’t going to magically solve sexism in a community. It might be one point at which we can engage with particular ideas about gender and power, but tackling that one thing this time will not quickly or easily ‘solve’ patriarchy.

If we are to engage with gender in the lindy hop world in a constructive way, we need to think about all sorts of stuff: clothes, notions of ‘beauty’ and ‘strength’, discussions about food and ‘health’, teaching practices, competition formats (eg how is a jack and jill competition judged, and how does this process articulate ideas about gender?), the role of solo dance, the place of aerials, how we manage and think about injuries and pain, ethnicity and race and how we think and talk about it in dance, talk about sex and sexuality in dance partnerships, labour relations and the role of ‘volunteers’ and unpaid labour, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Gender: it’s complicated.

This is why, though, I’m quite pleased by Jason’s piece. He takes one behaviour (or use of language and power), and then draws out the effects and related behaviours and thinking within a culture (and cultural practice). I’m especially delighted by the way he presents his own thinking and behaviour. This really is what I would call being a feminist ally. Doing feminist work. I am also very pleased by the way this thinking makes clear that feminist work can also be socialist work, and also be the work of pacifists and human rights activists. Feminism might be centred on gender, but we can’t talk about gender without also talking about economics, ethnicity, sexuality, violence, and so on.

I was especially delighted by this paragraph in the ‘establish permission’ section:

Both as a teacher and as a student, I have found it is often really helpful to approach first with a question along the lines of “Can I make a suggestion?” If he or she says “yes,” then we can proceed to having a discussion about it. If he or she says “no,” then I keep my opinion to myself unless that person is causing serious harm (in which case I might have led with something more direct like “I need to talk to you”). The act of asking for permission can feel a tad cumbersome but it respects the other person’s boundaries and gives them a moment to adjust to a state of readiness to hear feedback. It is the dance class equivalent of inviting someone to a performance evaluation rather than barging into their office and telling them they need to shape up or ship out.

I think this is a gorgeous illustration of how undoing the power dynamics (and hierarchies) of pedagogic discourse in dance can work to undo other dodgy power dynamics in a dance community. The class is, of course, where we socialise new dancers – where we teach them not only how to dance, but how to be in a dance community. It’s something I need to remind myself: though I might be a teacher, I don’t automatically have the right to correct someone’s dancing in class. And how I should correct them needs to be carefully thought about, to promote and encourage mutual respect.

If you’re curious, I’ve written other posts where I’m pretty much annotating the development of my ideas about teaching. I’m only new to teaching dance and boy am I making a lot of mistakes.
Dealing with problem guys in dance classes: where I write a huge, long, rambly post exploring my ideas about this, and nut out some strategies.
Self Directed Learning: where I look at alternatives to the formal dance class, and how this might destabilise hierarchies, and also complement traditional learning models.
teaching challenges: routines, structure and improvisation in class: where I remind myself that rote-learning is about power and hierarchy, and not in the spirit of lindy hop.
Teaching challenges 2: drilling and memorising: kind of like that previous post, but with some dodgy referencing of pedagogic lit.
Valuing the process rather than the product: where I talk about a bunch of things, but most importantly, about the importance of being wrong and making mistakes.

Misogyny and women leaders

I’m not sure people overseas realise just what went on in Australia politics recently, and how this informs my reading of the Female Lead’s Manifesto, so I’m just going to lift All Consuming’s entire post Recommended Reading, where she lists some useful media pieces about the way Julia Gillard (our first, and recently replaced, woman prime minister) was treated.

Following last week’s appalling display, here’s some reading for you:

Feminists are sexist?

Catherine Redfern answers in her 2003 piece ‘Feminists are Sexist’: Should feminists have to spend exactly half their time, energy, and resources working on behalf of men to be taken seriously? Catherine Redfern thinks not.

…sadly, this “improving women’s lives is sexist” attitude reflects part of the wider mainstream fear of feminism. It’s why people say things like ‘I’m not a feminist, I’m a humanist’ or ‘I’m not a feminist, I’m in favour of human rights’. It’s because there is a stigma attached to any activism that unashamedly benefits women, as a social group. It’s not seen as worthy enough, and fighting on behalf of women as a group is embarassing somehow. I’m just talking about plain, uncontroversial activism that improves the lives of women.

I do feel as though many of the people reading my blog simply don’t have a working understanding (or even a basic understanding) of the central tenets of feminism. There are lots of places to find out about this stuff, so it’s really in your interests to do a little research before you wade into a feminist debate. I mean, just banging on about ‘reverse sexism’ makes you look like a fool. The best place to start is with Feminism 101. I’m also quite fond of Thinking Girl’s brief overview of key terms in feminist thinking.

The bit about oppression is useful in dismissing this ‘reverse sexism’ bullshit:

Something else that is important to understand is that oppression is not discrimination. Oppression is about systems and relations of power, and exists in social structures and institutions. Oppression is wide-spread subjugation of one group while simultaneously privileging another group. This means that those groups who are subjected to oppression are not in a social position to oppress people belonging to the dominant group. There is no such thing as “reverse” sexism, racism, homophobia, (dis)ableism, classism, etc.

Basically, ‘sexism’ is an articulation or demonstration of power. So it’s something that people with power get to do. In the context of gender and sex, patriarchy (which organises our societies) robs women and girls of power. So when a woman* calls you or your friend out on your dodgy thinking or behaviour, she isn’t speaking from a position of power. She’s actually taking a bit of a risk, and she’s speaking against the grain. In this sense, feminism is activism because it is critiquing the dominant social order.
Conservative media and politicians might bang on about ‘political correctness’** and argue that feminists are oppressing them, but this is patently untrue. If you take a quick look at the stats, you’ll see that most property is owned by men, the highest wages are earned by men, women are more likely to be sexually assaulted, most positions of power (political, economic, industrial, religious…) are occupied by men. So, yeah, feminism. Not really fucking over the patriarchy just yet.

 

 

*This is why I think it means something quite different for men to speak out about sexism and misogyny. I’m not sure how I feel about the idea of ‘male feminists’. I much prefer the concept of ‘feminist allies’, because I think that one of the most important parts of emancipation and social power is being able to speak up for yourself – to represent your own ideas and self in public discourse. And while I love and adore and admire men who speak up for feminism and feminist projects, I think it means something quite different when a woman is standing up. The concept ‘feminist allies’ excites me. It tells me that men are ok with working with women; they don’t need to lead the charge.
This topic is quite fraught, and one that many feminists disagree about. So my opinion is just one among many. And of course, when you start talking about gender identity, transgender identity, and so on, this distinction between ‘men’ and ‘women’ stops being useful. I haven’t done a lot of thinking about this, though I SHOULD.

 

**I do recommend reading up about the history of the term ‘politically correct’. The Wikipedia page is surprisingly useful. Basically, the people who use the term ‘politically correct’ are usually people who don’t like the idea of feminism or socialism or other actions or movements which are interested in equity and social justice. Not too many feminists use the term. I don’t use it because it’s just not useful: it implies that there’s just one way of pursuing social justice, when of course feminism is about diversity and plurality of approaches and thinking.