Here’s a thought, maybe people’s growing irreverence for 9/11 is because it was a long time ago and younger generations weren’t as affected by it, or maybe they are so sick of the way it has been basically commercialised by politicians and used as a device to justify incalculable pain and they are tired of it being cynically trotted out every year and told to never forget while every year they are also told to all but ignore mass shootings and US humanitarian crimes.
And like, I dunno, maybe it isn’t about disrespecting those who died but refusing, for any number of reasons, to be a part of the governmental hallmark industry that has built up around it.
I take students to see the 9/11 memorial all the time. More and more of the students I get were either so young or not even born yet.
And every time, I ask them, what do you think? What are you feeling? And many of them are hesitant to respond so I’ll prompt, “Was it sad? Was it boring?” And as soon as they know I’m not gonna judge them for it, 100% of the time, they respond, “I feel bad that I don’t feel as moved by it as you. You cried when you told us about it and I get that it was such a horrible day and so many people died, but I can’t really think of what life was like before or just after that time.”
That really struck me the first time I heard it because these kids really don’t remember a time when things were so carefree and relatively quiet. Little to no security screenings. Almost zero school shootings. Kids stayed outside by themselves until the street lamps came on.
Because they grew up in a post-9/11 society, all they’ve ever known is mass violence and distrust of everything. Kids expect a plane to crash into a building, a truck bomb to go off at a big event, a student shooting up a school. And they’ve just got to deal with it and keep moving on or they won’t survive.
It’s incredible how much women do behind the scenes. I know a realtor who relies strongly on his girlfriend’s charisma, beauty and personality to gain clients.
I’ve just been reading The Glass Universe by Dava Sobel, about the Harvard women who supported the bulk of astronomy research there over the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. While many of them did receive public and academic credit as well as pay – although the university always resisted making any of them faculty until the 1950s – almost all the male astronomers featured were married to accomplished women in their own right, many of them scientists, and you can bet their husbands weren’t putting them on all their papers.
Which has bled into the modern academic world, where many people are expected to do what was essentially a two-person job (filled by male academic + wife) by themselves, or while married to someone else trying to do the same thing. The lack of acknowledgement of women’s work fucks everybody over.
#people who want a return to the mythical prior era #when women did not work #do not want women to stop working #they want them to stop getting credit and pay for it
This reminds me of how early film history, it was always the male director’s wife who did the editing of the films, because the cutting and connecting of film strips was considered a lot like sewing. Of course, anyone who knows anything about film and editing can tell you it changes how good a movie is very easily.
Don’t believe me? Look at the differences between the famous Jaws as the public’s release of it (insisted upon by the female editor) and spielberg, the male director’s version of it (missing basic suspense methods, shows the phony shark too much, etc). Same goes for almost every tarantino film. Editing makes or breaks a film and even today, you can bet your socks editing “the invisible art” was pioneered and is still pushed by women.
^^^^^^ This is so true! And once film editing began to be recognized as an actual art form, women were shoved out of the editing room so that men could be artistic or whatever.
Also Tarantino referred to his favorite editor as being kind of like his mom or something and I swear to god the more I see of him, the less I like him.
The “female editor” for Jaws was Verna Hellman Fields, who cut many other notable films, including American Graffiti along with Marcia Lucas.
Tarantino’s “favorite editor” was Sally JoAnne Menke who edited all of Tarantino’s films until she died.
Because naming and credit is important, especially when you’re talking about women not getting credit and recognition of their work as named individuals.
If you want to know more about women in early filmmaking (emphasis American) and the sociology of how different roles were divided, gendered, and re-gendered in the first decades, I highly recommend Women Filmmakers in Early Hollywood by Karen Ward Mahar.
There are a number of other books to follow that, but it’s 2am and I’m tired so hit me up later for them.
You know what happens when women type? They EDIT. It is a service they are expected to provide invisibly – not to let a mistake or imperfection show to their husband’s audience, but also not to intrude upon his sense that this is all his ideas and his labor. Wives are the unacknowledged story and script doctors, and often co-authors for so many supposedly male-authored works.
Also, I second Women Filmmakers in Early Hollywood. Mahar was my history prof for three or four courses and she is incredibly knowledgeable and engaging.
Speaking anecdotally, there are a good number of rockstar PhD candidates in my program who are only able to put in the hours that they do because their wives function as personal assistants/editors/housekeepers/chefs while they finish up their degrees. I’m not knocking the folks who choose to do this, but the labor of their silent partner is rarely acknowledged and it’s just assumed that they’re preternaturally talented or dedicated. I’ve rarely (never) seen this dynamic reversed, and I’m in a field with a fairly equitable gender ratio.
And the expectation becomes that women can replicate this supernatural talent because that labor isn’t recognized as instrumental to their success.
“The Wife” by Meg Wolitzer is a good book that fictionalizes this!
This is extremely common for all careers. Women are personal assistants/ secretaries for their male partners. But when a woman has a career / when she’s a student she’s expected to handle all of her academic and professional duties and then also do a double shift at home.
In the literary world, I believe one of the most famous examples to be that of Leo Tolstoy’s wife, Sofia Tolstoya, who transcribed all of Tolstoy’s manuscripts, since she was the only person capable of understanding his handwriting.
@theoldwalkingsong, I think you already know all of this, but I’m tagging you nonetheless.
I adore tony being one of peter’s emergency contacts at school but what I love even better is the school staffs reaction to may putting him as one
I mean they would just be like “i’m sorry you wanna put who as what now?!?!”
Tony’s sitting in his lab working on fixing DUM-E’s claw, because somehow, the bot managed to break off one of it’s digits while Tony wasn’t looking. He didn’t even asked FRIDAY how it happened, just told her that if DUM-E tried to do whatever it was again, to let him know.
There’s a sudden vibrating next to him, and he spares a glance to see that it’s his phone with a new text message. He sets down his current tool and checks his phone to see if it’s Peter or Pepper, because if not then it can wait.
It’s not either of them.
But this person certainly can NOT wait.
He quickly opens the text.
Aunt Hottie: Hey, can you do me a favor?
Me: Of course, is everything okay?
Aunt Hottie: Yes, everything’s fine.
Aunt Hottie: Do you remember how we agreed to have you down as Peter’s second emergency contact at the school?
Me: Yes
Aunt Hottie: Well, there’s a problem.
Me: Whose ass do I need to kick
Aunt Hottie: Tony.
Me: Sorry, what’s the problem
Aunt Hottie: The school doesn’t believe that Peter actually knows you, they even gave Peter detention because they thought he was trying to “take his internship lie too far”. I didn’t even know that nobody believed him.
Aunt Hottie: And when I went down there to try and straighten it out, they didn’t believe me either, and told me to stop encouraging Peter.
Tony felt white hot anger flash through his veins. Not only were these people punishing Peter for telling the truth, but they were straight up insulting the kid’s aunt.
Oh hell no.
Me:So what you’re saying is everything is not okay and that I do need to kick some ass
Aunt Hottie: I’m asking you to please go to the school tomorrow and correct the problem. It’s the beginning of the school year and Peter is already in trouble. I would go with you but I have to be at work at 6 am.
Me: No problem, I’ll see to it that everything gets sorted out.
Aunt Hottie: Thank you, Tony.
Me: No problemo
—-
The next day Tony walked into the office of Midtown Tech as 11:30 am sharp. He didn’t call ahead for a meeting. He wanted to catch everyone off guard. Off their game.
And that’s exactly what he did.
Walking in the office, he spots a woman behind a desk slash counter looking thing. She’s probably in her late 30′s to early 40′s and gives off a very soccer mom-ish vibe.
“Excuse me Ms-” Tony looks down to the name tag on her desk, “Rhodes? Hi.” He flashes his fake paparazzi smile at the woman, and when she looks up at him its like her brain short circuits, because she’s silent for a good 7 seconds.
Tony counted.
“Um, h-hi, sir, uh, M-Mr. Stark.” She stands, brushing out her skirt then trying (and failing) to discreetly fix her hair, “H-How may I help you?”
“I would like to speak to the principle. I don’t have an appointment. I hope that’s not a problem.”
“Oh! I’m sure it won’t be a problem at all! Just a moment!” And the woman who Tony has already forgotten the name of scurries to the back of the office and disappears into a hallway.
While he waits, Tony stands there looking around at the bland looking office and shudders.
He would drop dead before having to repeat school.
Then a voice from behind him pulls him out of his thoughts, “Mr. Stark?”
Tony whips around to see Peter standing in the doorway, “Hey kiddo, shouldn’t you be in class?”
“Shouldn’t you be at the compound?”
He waves a hand dismissively, “I should be a lot of places. But you,” He points a finger at the teenager, “Should be in class.”
“Actually I was headed to lunch, but Ned saw you through the office windows while we were walking.” At the mention of his best friend, Peter jerked his head to the side, and Tony then notices the kid’s friend outside the office looking like he was going to explode with excitement.
“Right. Well. I’m just here to sort something out, don’t worry about it ki-”
“Mr. Stark?”
Tony then turns to see what must be the school’s principle, “Yes, hello. Principle Morita is it?”
Tony walks forwards and extends a hand to shake the other man’s when he notices Morita looking behind him. But before he can ask, Morita speaks up, “Was this student bothering you? I apologize. He should be at lunch right now and,” Morita pointedly looks at Peter, making him curl in on himself, “not looking for more trouble.”
Tony has to steel himself to hold back the remark he has for this man.
Instead he just says, “Actually, Peter is the reason I’m here.”
At this, Morita stumbles on his words, and finally utters a, “What?”
“Peter, come here please.” Tony reaches out an arm and Peter did as he was told, and when he got into Tony’s reach, Tony pulled him close with his arm around Peter’s shoulders, “Peter’s aunt notified me yesterday that there is a slight problem with you believing that a) he is my intern and b) I am his second emergency contact. She also told me that such problems led to disciplinary action, which I have to say, I’m not exactly happy about. Considering the shortcomings here are on your side.”
Morita sputtered a moment before, “Oh o-of course Mr. Stark. I apologize for the inconvenience, and for you having to make a trip down here just for this.”
“I don’t mind having to make trips for my kid.” Tony narrowed his eyes at the man in front of him.
He looks between Tony and Peter, “Of course. Well I will see to it that the detentions are resolved and will not go on his personal record, and I will make sure you are entered as his contact.”
Tony nodded, “Great, I’m glad that’s settled.” He turned to Peter, “Alright, drama’s over. Go back to lunch with Ted.”
Peter rolled his eyes, “It’s Ned, dad.”
Tony ruffled Peter’s hair and gave him a gentle push towards the door, “Whatever, I’ll see you this weekend. Nat found a new recipe she wants to try with you.”
“Okay, see ya!”
“Bye, squirt.”
The two parted ways and left through their own doors, leaving a confused and dumbfounded Principle Morita standing in the middle of the office.
What the shit just happened?
——
Aunt Hottie: Thank you
Me: It’s no problem, really. Happy to do it
Aunt Hottie: Could have made a little less of a scene
Me: You know that’s not my style
Aunt Hottie: Right, but how are you gonna get out of this one
Hey, do you know that feeling of hitching up a long skirt so you don’t fall on your face when walking upstairs, and then you immediately become a wretched yet resolute Jane Austen character? It’s a universal thing, right?
It’s like resting a laundry basket against your hip and suddenly you’re a long-suffering peasant woman, wondering if you’ll survive the winter.
a shawl wrapped around the shoulders and you’re wandering the moors in a Brönte novel, feeling melancholic
Looking out the window at the rain and you’re a love-stricken newlywed wondering when your husband will return from the war.
Long skirt billowing behind you while to go down the stairs, you’re a proper Lady in a flowing ball gown being introduced at a fancy social function.
Hair blowing in the wind and suddenly you’re hovering on a cliff by the sea, staring out into the waves and praying your merchant husband will return from his voyage across the ocean
Hood up against the rain and wind and you’re a medieval abbess defying the weather and travelling on foot with your people to find a place to establish a new community.
