Size discrimination leads to getting paid inequitably, receiving inferior health care, and being classified by teachers as unintelligent. These facts alone should convince you that fatphobia is a form of oppression. Moreover, philosopher Manne’s personal struggles with dieting punctuate that fatphobia seeps into all our souls. The solution, she advocates in this engagingly written book, is for fat people to stop thinking of themselves as thin people trapped in large bodies and to stand in solidarity with other fat people—and for everyone to challenge this insidious injustice.
Rejecting the popular belief that bigotry is an extension of ignorance, University of Kansas professor Mitchell begins with the premise that bigotry is a moral code of hatred, and that the only way to overcome it is to gain literacy in its language. It’s a message he learned as a Black millennial from New Orleans in the wake of the racist government and media response to Hurricane Katrina, when Black people facing life-and-death decision-making were derided as “looters,” while their White counterparts were not. In addition to 20 useful lessons, Mitchell reminds us that no one is immune to bigotry and that victims of bigotry can themselves be bigots.
We like to believe that bigotry is a product of ignorance and that if we educate people enough, they will become immune to bigotry. But what if bigotry isn't a lack of education, but rather a moral code that people live by? What if bigotry is a common code of hate to which no community is immune?
On Bigotry is a field guide for understanding how bigots think and teach others to think, how bigotry disguises itself, how bigotry teaches people to act politically, and, most importantly, what individuals and communities can do about it. This is an essential read…
In this juicy novel that begins on the campus of Vassar in the aftermath of World War II, Anne guards her secret—that she is Jewish—as her charmed-life WASPy classmates denigrate Jewish people at large, and one Jewish classmate in particular, Delia. But Anne is drawn to stylish, sophisticated Delia and befriends her—until Anne betrays and slut-shames her. The suspenseful narrative ripens as the story moves to France and Palestine/Israel. This can’t-put-it-down novel spurred me to think about cruelty and discrimination, forgiveness and growth.
The beloved author of Not Our Kind and The Dressmakers of Prospect Heights returns with a story of secrets, friendship, and betrayal about two young women at Vassar in the years after World War II, a powerful and moving tale of prejudice and pride that echoes the cultural and social issues of today.
Anne Bishop seems like a typical Vassar sophomore—one of a popular group of privileged WASP friends. None of the girls in her circle has any idea that she's Jewish, or that her real first name is Miriam. Pretending to be a Gentile has made life easier—as Anne,…
Slut-shaming expert Leora Tanenbaum explains that when we criticize young women for wearing body-revealing outfits and sharing sexy selfies, we are losing the plot. The problem is not with the actions young women take but with the toxic, sexist conditions they are responding to.
Young people are sick of being held responsible for others’ inability to keep their eyes off their bodies. They explain that most of the time, they aren’t even trying to sexualize themselves—and, when they do, they are taking control over their bodily autonomy and standing up for themselves.
In choosing to wear body-revealing clothing and posting sexy selfies, young people are taking a stand for themselves and against three pillars of nonconsensual sexualization that shape their daily lives:
* Gendered dress codes, which allow teachers and administrators to scrutinize and comment on girls’ bodies; * Nonconsensual sharing of intimate images (“revenge porn” and “deepfakes”), which portray girls and women as sexual objects deserving of public humiliation; * The aftermath of sexual harassment and assault, when victims are told—still today, even after #MeToo—that they were “asking for it.”
There’s nothing wrong with taking and sharing intimate pictures. There’s nothing wrong with feeling good about one’s body. Everyone should be able to stand up for themselves, experience a sense of bodily autonomy, and shape and share their image on their own terms.
