Monday, April 20, 2009

Desert Blood


Before last week I had no idea that the women of Juarez, Mexico were being kidnapped and subsequently murdered consistently for over the past ten years. Watching the documentary in class on the missing women and hearing family members of the deceased speak of their encounters with the Juarez judicial system rocked me to my core. The police ignore requests for help and destroy evidence from crime scenes, blaming the destruction on disease and other kinds of contamination. All patterns found linking the missing girls to the actual number of dead bodies are ignored and the government claims the death toll is much lower than it actually is. But you know all of that. I just had to type it all out and really express how much this bothers me, and probably will continue to bother me, which isn’t a bad thing. Hey, it brings about awareness, right?
Alicia Gaspar de Alba’s Desert Blood encompasses every one of the things I listed above, delving into issues I didn’t even think were relevant to the Juarez murders at all. Throughout reading her novel, I noticed the underlying sexuality that permeated every chapter. Gaspar de Alba establishes very early on the Ivon is a lesbian who has come out to her conservative Mexican family, who received her with malice, save for a few characters, like her sister Irene. I couldn’t help but wonder what Gaspar de Alba was trying to get across to her readers when she placed sexuality at the forefront of a novel that has its main focus set on the Juarez murders.
I thought about it for a while and it hit me: Gaspar de Alba could be comparing homophobia to the violence against women in Juarez. It may sound far-fetched, but I think there could be something there. Gaspar de Alba does a very good job communicating how intolerable homosexuality is in the Mexican culture and throughout the world in general by showing us the scene in the beginning of the novel where Father Francis asks Ivon not to tell Cecila’s family she is a lesbian because if they knew they wouldn’t let her adopt the baby (pg.36). We also see Ivon’s mother call her all sorts of atrocious names when she goes to visit her after she finds out Cecilia had been murdered.

Gaspar de Alba links the verbal violence against homosexuality to the physical violence against women. By showing the reader the abuse Ivon endures because she is a lesbian next to the gratuitous abuse the women of Juarez suffer from, Gaspar de Alba makes the connection that these two crimes are the same on some level. The women being tortured and killed in the novel are merely objects and Ivon herself lesser-than human for her difference in sexuality. Gaspar de Alba subtly builds this image for the reader, leaving the message that the treatment of homosexuals as objects or freaks is in some way akin to torturing and killing women. Again, I know how out-there this all sounds, but it’s worth thinking about.

Gaspar de Alba also delves into the issue of same-sex couple adoption in her novel, but fails to elaborate on it entirely. However, given that this novel’s main focus isn’t adoption and is murder it’s understandable that she wouldn’t go into more detail about the process, but it’s something to be considered because it plays a big role in the fear of homosexuality that the world still harbors. We won’t let gay couples adopt without practically having them jump through hoops of fire, which is simply ridiculous. I think the issue of same-sex adoption is one that Gaspar de Alba feels very strongly about and one that probably could have been explored more in the novel if not for clarity’s sake, then for the sake of emphasizing the negativity felt toward homosexuality today, which would in turn emphasize the parallel we see between violence against women and homosexuality.

All in all, this week has been really eye opening. It sickens me to think that there are women dying horrible deaths across the country as you and I read these words. They say a baby is born every minute, or every few minutes, but in Juarez’s case, women are dying. I wish there was something I could do, something the United States would do, to help end this, but it looks like our government doesn’t really care about what’s going on “over there” in Mexico. It’s just like Enloe said. Women need to become more aware of global issues because they affect all of us. If one woman is murdered, we all feel it.


-Paige

Sunday, April 19, 2009

Fact vs. Fiction When it Comes to Desert Blood


In the globalized world that we find ourselves in, it has become increasingly important to actively pay attention to world events. As countries around the world become more and more interconnected, occurrences that take place on the other side of the world begin to affect us in a more substantial way than we may expect. Unfortunately, women have only been granted the right to be directly involved in international politics for a handful of decades, and this has been a huge setback; many females of this generation do not take advantage of their rights and continue to be ignorant of what goes around in their surroundings. In “Beyond the Global Victim,” Cynthia Enloe discusses how “feminists need to pay attention to international issues not only because international politics affects our futures but also because patriarchy creates gendered divisions of labor…international politics leads to both inequalities among women and the possibilities of organizing against those inequalities” (496). If feminists take the initiative to make themselves aware of world events, they will be capable of spreading information with other women. As a component of our Women’s Studies course, we, as feminists, are attempting to make both men and women aware about the homogenized idea of beauty and how it affects both genders in their personal perceptions beauty and their general beauty regimens. Our job is simplified because there is a lot of information at our disposal; a lot of it is provided by dominant media outlets, so our resources are easily accessed. How does one successfully shed light on a major event that has been poorly publicized? The ongoing Juarez murders that started in 1993 is an example of one of the world’s most troubling unsolved criminal rampages; unfortunately most people have never heard of them. I have come across a great deal of trouble finding news reports about the Juarez murders, and the ones I find are not from mainstream publications. Fortunately, in the last few years, feminists have begun to strengthen the amount of publicity received by the Juarez murders, with the release of Laurdes Portillo’s Senorita Extravida, and the publication of Alicia Gaspar de Alba’s Desert Blood.


 Gaspar de Alba’s book gives readers an in-depth look into the experience faced by a family who has directly been affected by the Juarez murders. Protagonist Ivon Villa’s sister, Irene, is kidnapped while she as at a party across the border in Juarez. The majority of the plot focuses on Ivon’s desperate search for Irene while she seals with her accusatory mother and corrupt officials. As realistic the story is, however, Gaspar de Alba states in her disclaimer that this is a fictional account. “All of the main characters in this story are fictional, “she says (v).  Any similarities to living or dead people are purely coincidental…Some readers who are familiar with the “maquiladora murders” may recognized certain details about a given crime and find that they don’t match “what really happened.” Because this is a fictionalized account of true events, I have taken liberties with chronologies and facts” (v). The question that rises then is if Desert Blood can be considered a legitimate source of information about the Juarez murders. Having watched Senorita Extravida, which is a very accurate documentary, I can see that the points that matter, including statistics and descriptions of victims are all true. Thus, readers will not get the wrong idea from reading this fictional account about the Juarez murders. Additionally, if this book was not fiction, Gaspar de Alba wouldn’t necessarily be able to incorporate all the additional themes she was able to fit in, such as homosexuality, gay parenting, patriarchy, globalization and the field of women’s studies, and discuss them in depth. By not providing the public with a conventional account of the Juarez murders, Gaspar de Alba still succeeds in informing readers about the ongoing crisis while educating them about other issues they are connected to; Desert Blood should be considered a piece of feminist publicity regarding the Juarez murders.


- Lavanya

Thursday, April 16, 2009

The Brown Women Who Blend In




Desert Blood, a novel, made the real life situation of the Juarez femicides more available to people in the United States and elsewhere to read in a narrative form. Several weeks ago a fictional movie about the femicides called “Backyard” premiered in theaters in Mexico. Following the release, two weeks ago, a meeting between the Mexican president and several international celebrities occurred to cast public attention on the murders. Is the in-depth narrative a work of fiction can provide what is needed to motivate the international public to call for a widespread investigation into the “labyrinth of silence” regarding the femicides and the secondary status of women in Mexican culture?
In Enloe’s article “Beyond the Global Victim”, she says “the need to create links and coalitions across national and cultural boundaries remains paramount” (496). These links will help the people of different countries focus on the “meaningful connections” (496) between people instead of the differences. It is these connections that will raise empathy for the families of the victims of the femicides that will motivate people of other countries to call for justice. The women in Mexico live under a patriarchal culture that demeans them into second class citizens, contributing to the violence against women. News articles or reports are taken with a grain of indifference in today’s society, jaded the constant barrage in which they come. Works of fiction are taken singularly. The in depth stories that they portray let people connect emotionally. With this connection comes a degree of empathy and a stronger sense to correct the wrong rather than being informed about the facts, the reader/viewer is immersed in the situation. It is this immersion that is needed to motivate justice for the victims of the Juarez femicides and help for the women of Mexico.



In Desert Blood the character Ximeyna notes that no one cares about the "brown women" down South. Our CAP project aims to change that. We want to make sure that no woman blends into the background solely based on appearance.

Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Chinga the United States?

“‘How could there be so many dead women and we not know about it, Ivon?’ ‘Because who cares about girls from the south’” (Gaspar de Alba 329)? Desert Blood: The Juárez Murders by Alicia Gaspar de Alba is a novel about the femicides in Juárez, México that began in the 1990s and continue today. While the novel is a work of fiction, the author researched the topic extensively, and the plot of the book is as viable as any other guesses out there about the cause of the murders. Desert Blood is important in part because it gives a voice to women who have none, but also because of its transnationality. Our Community Action Project (CAP) is about the effects of globalization on women, and we needn’t look any further than our country’s border with México for the effects.

The North American Free Trade Agreement (NAFTA), a poster child for globalization, has been great for business but terrible for people. “If fathers, brothers, husbands didn’t gain some privilege, however small in global terms, from women’s acquiescence to those confining notions of femininity, it might be much harder for the foreign executives and their local elite allies to recruit the cheap labor they desire” (Enloe 498). The imagery here is one of paternal care. Large corporations and national governments, comprised mostly of men, are expected to look after employees and citizens in a paternal way, which is similar to the “big brother is watching you” idea. Yet these men have no real interest in maintaining the health of the women they control. Governments and big business profit from minorities by exploiting their labor. The patriarchy’s paternal persona has never had our best interests in mind. “‘Although we love having all that surplus labor to exploit, once it becomes reproductive rather than just productive, it stops being profitable. How do we continue to make a profit from these women’s bodies and also curtail the threat of their reproductive power’” (Gaspar de Alba 332)? This hits at the very core of the problem in Juárez, but also around the world. While efforts to obtain large profits and maintain control have manifested themselves as a series of ongoing femicides in Juárez, women around the world are paid less than men and are treated as less than men in many ways.

In this way, Ivon’s identity is very important. She is a native of the El Paso/ Juárez area and is a lesbian. She is rebellious and rejects norms and standards. She represents everything that these governments and maquiladoras fear. It is therefore essential that Ivon brings down the conspiracy surrounding the femicides. As Enloe says, “It can be seen like one more attempt by privileged outsiders—women and men—to dilute their political efforts” (497). Gaspar de Alba knows that it is very important to give voices to all women and to not allow others to enter local communities and take over. Ivon is the perfect character to reveal the patriarchal strings attached to everything in Juárez.

Another important aspect of the novel that demonstrates its knowledge of the effects of globalization is the use of the Spanish language. Some might call it “Spanglish.” It is inserted so seamlessly that one cannot help but wonder if this is the future of bilingualism. For example, “His car parked in the estacionamiento on the same street. ...shiny and red like the kind she's seen on the telenovelas” (Gaspar de Alba 153). Furthermore, the use of curse words makes the story feel more real. “‘He's always riding that chingadera in front of the buses.’” (Gaspar de Alba 43). “‘Chinga tu madre, buey’” (Gaspar de Alba 21). This is important because of the anti-Spanish and anti-Latina/o sentiment in the United States. Using the Spanish language challenges our notions of the superiority of English. It also provides insight into the way the two languages are used interchangeably in everyday life.

Overall, Desert Blood demonstrates the negative, exploitative aspects of globalization. It shows that the people in power want to gain money from agreements like NAFTA, but don’t want anyone else to ruin their profits, even if that means violently keeping women down. US racism, as shown along the US-Mexican border, is also a manifestation of globalization. An example of this is when Ivon is subjected to this comment on the plane: “‘You don't look Mexican’” (Gaspar de Alba 6). Americans want the profits, but don’t want to share anything with those people who work in maquiladoras and help make the profits.



In a global, capitalist, free market society, the rich will always get richer and the poor will always get poorer. Our CAP and other feminist groups need to keep in mind the various aspects of female identity around the world, including language, in order to promote solidarity among feminists so as to fight this patriarchal power.


An example of the government's point of view on the issue.


An example of some maquiladora workers' opinions.

-Erica

Monday, April 13, 2009

At Face Value


This week we read Beyond the Global Victim by Cynthia Enloe. In her essay Enloe makes three major points regarding women and how they influence and are influenced by foreign policy and international activism. Her argument speaks out against activists who try and persuade women that they need to be more knowledgeable of and active in foreign affairs.


Enloe discusses how demeaning it is for women to be expected to support activism and help solve these global problems, to help other unfortunate women, when they aren’t allowed to define this activism in their own terms. Enloe writes, “Because organizers aren’t curious about what women’s experiences could lend to an understanding of international politics, many women, especially those whose energies are already stretched to the limit, are wary of becoming involved in an international campaign. It can seem like one more attempt by privileged outsiders—women and men—to dilate their political efforts. If women are asked to join an international campaign—for peace, against communism, for refugees, against apartheid, for religious evangelism, against hunger—but are not allowed to define the problem, it looks to many locally engaged women like abstract do-gooding with minimal connections to the battle for a decent life in their households and in their communities” (497). This point is paralleled in the essay Do Muslim Women Really Need Saving? by Lila Abu-Lughod. She too makes the point that women are used as the cavalry when it comes to helping foreign women but never as the generals. However, it seems that the support of Western women is needed for every foreign struggle. Abu-Lughod writes about the idea of American women as the international politics litmus test when she states, “Most revealingly, [Laura Bush’s] speech enlisted women to justify American bombing and intervention in Afghanistan and to make a case for the ‘War on Terrorism’ of which it was allegedly a part” (486).


Enloe also laments the fact that women are always represented as victims and not as fighters. She tells us that this is true of our victimized sisters in developing countries, as well as the white, God-fearing, Western women when she writes, “…The typical ‘women-need-to-learn-more-about-foreign-affairs’ approach usually portrays women as the victims of the international political system… In this worldview women are forever being acted upon; rarely are they seen to be actors” (497). Although many white women who are uncomfortable with upsetting the status quo (as women generally have been for centuries) often turn their heads at this fact, they still have recognized that their power only extends so far in the patriarchy. They acted upon this by overcompensating in their use (abuse) of authority over other women during colonization. Enloe writes, “… [Feminists] have discovered that some women’s class aspirations and their racist fears lured them into the role of controlling other women for the sake of imperial rule… To describe colonization as a process that has been carried on solely by men overlooks the ways in which male colonizers’ success depended on some women’s complicity” (497). The power women exert over other women is still very popular. It is most noticeable with the employment of upper-class women who are difficult employers to women of color. These actions aren’t confined to the wealthy who interact with foreign women and use money to define their status. They occur also within every Western woman who ever thinks that it is her “duty” to save women of others cultures. While acts of compassion are often appreciated, to take on the role of savior is to oneself more capable and competent than those who need to be saved. Often it is simply because we are more privileged.


Enloe explains how important women are to international policy when she states, “Corporate executives and development technocrats need some women to depend on cash wages; they need some women to see a factory or plantation job as means of delaying marriage or fulfilling daughterly obligations. Without women’s own needs, values, and worries, the global assembly line would grind to a halt” (497-498). Women are so crucial to the functioning of so many entities. It is a master’s tool that we are not able to realize this. We are useful to the patriarchy as long as we don’t understand how important we are and how much influence we actually have. Enloe goes on to say, “But many of those needs, values, and worries are defined by patriarchal structures and strictures. If fathers, brothers, husbands didn’t gain some privilege, however small in global terms, from women’s acquiescence to those confining notions of femininity, it might be much harder for the foreign executives and their local elite allies to recruit the cheap labor they desire. Consequently, women’s capacity to challenge the men in their families, their communities, or their political movements will be a key to remaking the world” (498). Only when we are comfortable enough with our own power and rights as women will we be able to gain access to equality of the sexes. We are “victimized” by a tangle of wires, of patriarchal expectations, that when examined individually seem harmless, but cooperatively cage us (Oppression by Marilyn Frye). I believe that Valenti says it best when she states in her essay You’re a Hardcore Feminist, I Swear!, “It pays—literally—to keep women half there” (13).
Although this reading has little to do with female sexuality in the media, it has a lot to do with the misrepresentation of women in a specific forum. Women are portrayed a certain way and we automatically agree with what we are told verbatim. Women are not always the global victim nor are they always hypersexualized. We need to make a point to search for accurate information politically and recreationally so we no longer have a skewed impression of our own gender.


~Katie Frye

Friday, April 10, 2009

Juarez and Recognizing the Global Victim



While it may not immediately seem so, international issues have a substantial influence on our daily lives. Cynthia Enloe, a feminist political scientist, claims that “feminists need to pay attention to international issues not only because international politics affects our futures but also because patriarchy creates gendered divisions of labor…international politics leads to both inequalities among women and the possibilities of organizing against those inequalities” (496). International politics’ role in our lives continues to grow as the world becomes more and more intertwined due to globalization. Our CAP is a clear example of how Western standards heavily affect the rest of the world. Having realized how much of an impact cultural imperialism has on the idea of female beauty, it also became clear that women quite often are the objects and victims of these international issues, which Enloe points out (497). Unfortunately, the majority of women are not aware of these happenings.

One event that seems to have received far less attention than it deserves, especially from women, is the ongoing saga of the Juarez murders. Shockingly, many of the locals know very little about it unless they have been directly effects. It is more essential than ever to promote the circulation of international events and policies. One very effective method of spreading information is through video; Senorita Extravida: Missing Young Women, Lourdes Portillo’s documentary on the Juarez femicides is very successful in relaying all the information that was available at the time. Unfortunately, due to a low budget, this film is very poorly circulated. In order for women to play a more substantial role in international relations as they are encouraged to do, dominant media outlets must work in conjunction with the creators of such essential films so they can be made available; then a higher level of awareness among women will be more possible.

What makes Senorita Extravida successful as a documentary is Portillo’s use of cinematic techniques; they function to catch the eye of the viewer and keep them engaged during the entirety of the film. Additionally, they make the content of the film very easy to interpret. The first technical aspect that is noticeable is the somber music that plays as a series of newspaper clips of missing women are shown throughout the film. The newspaper clips have a lasting impact on viewers; the quick transition between each picture functions to enumerate the victims of this rampage, but the music really confirms the grim nature of these segments. Additionally, a large portion of the film is composed of interviews of people who have directly been affected by the Juarez murders. Interviewees include victims, people involved in solving the case, and potential culprits. A personal touch was added by the interviews, as they worked to humanize both the victims and offenders; viewers most likely found they could relate to the circumstances some of the interviewees were put in.
Perhaps the most startling part of Senorita Extraviada is the interview with the two local girls, who are shown at the beginning and end of the film. At the start of the documentary, the girls claim that they don’t know much about the Juarez murders and that they don’t feel particularly frightened by the disappearance and death of hundreds of girls. Towards the end of the film, it is revealed that the sister of one of the girls went missing. This reverts back to the prospect of women being aware of international affairs, even though these particular girls don’t seem to be very knowlegable of what is happening in their own back yard. Can we expect that all women will suddenly learn everything there is to learn? What about the fact that for most of history women were not permitted anywhere near the realm of politics of any sort? Enloe states that “a woman working in a garment factory in Ireland should learn more about the EEC because what the EEC commissioners do in Brussels is going to help determine her wages and maybe the hazards she faces on the job” (496). She would become more educated about the EEC by “devoting precious time and energy to learning about events outside her own country because as women she is one of the objects of those events” (496). While it is completely true that this garment factory worker is an object of world events, I don’t think she is in any position to devote so much time to keep track of current events, which is possibly why the local girls in Juarez did not have an inkling of the scope of the Juarez femicides until they were directly affected.


-Lavanya

Thursday, April 9, 2009

Seeing Through a Different Eye







This week our assignment was to read The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison. It is the story of a young black girl in Loraine, Ohio towards the end of the Great Depression. It is told through the perspective of many people, most notably, her younger friend Claudia who has yet to be affected in the way older children and adults have regarding beauty and race. This novel contains many themes regarding race, beauty, and love.



One of the main themes that guide the progression of this novel, as well as it guides us in society, is that white skin is the standard of beauty. To discuss this warped ideal Morrison writes, “It had occurred to Pecola some time ago that if her eyes, those eyes that held the pictures, and knew the sights—if those eyes of hers were different, that is to say, beautiful, she herself would be different” (46). This is the first time that we learn Pecola desperately wishes for blue eyes. It is not that she wants to beautiful by white standards, however. She also wants to see “new pictures, new faces” and believes that if she had blue eyes, people wouldn’t want her to witness all the painful things that she does now (45). This is also reinforced when boys who are teasing Pecola choose to cease their malice after a lighter-skinned Maureen Peal happens by. They no longer want to commit crimes in front of the beautiful eyes of Maureen Peal. Although Pecola never wishes for white skin, her desire for blue eyes emphasizes how features of white women, even if they would be ridiculous on a black girl, are more “beautiful”. These same ideas are seconded as Abra Fortune Chernik writes in her essay The Body Politic, “Hatred of my body generalized to hatred of myself as a person, and self-referential labels such as ‘pig,’ ‘failure’ and ‘glutton’ allowed me to believe that I deserved punishment” (104). Although she suffers from hate of her body size rather than color, Chernik too believes that she is defective. If she were skinnier, she needn’t be punished; if Pecola had blue eyes, she needn’t witness bad things. White skin as the beauty ideal is also noted when Morrison writes from the perspective of nine-year-old Claudia. Claudia explains her disdain for Shirley Temple when she says, “…I had felt a stranger, more frightening thing than hatred for all the Shirley Temples of the world. It had begun with Christmas and the gift of dolls. The big, the special, the loving gift was always a big, blue-eyed Baby Doll” (19-20). Her view is extremely different from the views of her older peers as well as the black community featured in this novel as a whole. Shirley Temple is idolized; she is pretty and worthy of affection. The motifs of Shirley Temple and a white doll are used to represent a master’s tool such as the ones described by Adre Lorde in The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House. Only the childhood innocence of Claudia who has yet to be tainted by the psychological damage her older peers have already fallen prey allows her to see the absurdity of admiring a little white girl or doll when they are treated more preciously than she is.



Another major theme in The Bluest Eye is sexual experience and its abuse. Through the character of Claudia, Morrison writes, “It never occurred to either of us that the earth itself might have been unyielding. We had dropped our seeds in our own little plot of black dirt just as Pecola's father had dropped his seeds in his own plot of black dirt. Our innocence and faith were no more productive than his lust or despair” (6). Through this quotation, we first learn that before the close of this story, Pecola will have been impregnated by her own father. The thought that it mayn’t have been Claudia’s fault that the marigold seeds her and her sister Frieda planted never sprouted mirrors the thought that there mayn’t be anyone to blame for Pecola’s pain. Although Pecola’s parents (especially her father) are a huge part of the problem, both of them have also received much pain at the hands of others. The possibility arises that there is no escaping suffering. Pecola’s first sexual experience is more violent than many of the others but not necessary less hostile and humiliating. Frieda is fondled by a tenant Mr. Henry and Pecola’s father carries out his first sexual experience under the hostile gaze of white men. The implications of sexual abuse within this novel are not simply the fact that sex is dangerous for black teenagers; black girls are ill-equipped to handle the consequences. Frieda’s parents do not explain the extent of perversion associated with Mr. Henry’s actions and she thinks that she’ll be “ruined” and fat. Pecola’s mother doesn’t believe Pecola has been raped making it possible for Pecola’s father to do this a second time. Pecola seeks solace in the comfort of a friend who can see Pecola’s new blue eyes. The girl is driven to madness because there is no place for her to be beautiful and loved and cared for as long as she is black.



To conclude her melancholy story, Morrison once again uses the voice of Claudia to say, “Love is never any better than the lover. Wicked people love wickedly, violent people love violently, weak people love weakly, stupid people love stupidly, but the love of a free man is never safe. There is no gift for the beloved. The lover alone possesses his gift of love. The loved one is shorn, neutralized, frozen in the glare of the lover's inward eye” (206). These thoughts convey a scary argument that love does not heal or help. Pecola’s father felt love for his daughter and committed such a horrific act out of that love (though mingled with disgust). Love can’t ever be perfect because even loved ones hurt you. Even though there is a hope for perfect romantic love, a black girl like Pecola can never achieve that love. She is black and, therefore, she is ugly. She doesn’t deserve that kind of love. The only beacon of hope Claudia gives us about love is that no matter how grotesquely this love is shown, the way Cholly demonstrated love for his daughter, it was still an act of love; he cannot be completely bad. If even this disgusting man can show love, perhaps there may be a “gift for the beloved.”



Toni Morrison’s The Bluest Eye ties in with our CAP project because it discusses perception. The sexuality of black women and girls in this time setting is nothing more than an obstacle. It is to be possessed by men (such as Cholly’s first conquest, Pauline Breedlove, Frieda, Geraldine, and Pecola) or to be used as a means of living (such as the prostitutes). Although the media does not highly impact their sexuality as such, it is responsible for their self-perception as women and as people. The recurrent themes of Shirley Temple, a white baby doll, and blue eyes are what these women and girls desire to be or to have. Similar to today with television shows, music videos, and magazine advertisements; these women are given an unachievable ideal to live up to. At that time there weren’t black dolls or child celebrities; there weren’t accurate representations of their femininity, as there often isn’t accurate portrayals of female sexuality. The problem lives on but it has simply taken on a new form.
~Katie Frye