Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Hegemonic Masculinity in Disney Movies

The ever-evolving concept of hegemony has been stretched to uniform a wide range of historical facets.  At its onset, the term was applied to the political dominance in ancient Greece.  Most notably, however, hegemony’s most widespread definition came from Antonio Gramsci, a Marxist philosopher who emphasized the aspect of culture, saying that “A culturally diverse society can be ruled or dominated by one of its social classes.”  Henceforth, the idea of hegemonic masculinity is not a far stretch from the initial ideologies Gramsci first outlined.  The concept, though worded unfamiliarly, lies within something generation X was reared on: the magical world of Disney.
 
According to the online encyclopedia, hegemonic masculinity is “the dominant form of masculinity within the gender hierarchy."  The term is typically associated with whiteness, heterosexuality, marriage, authority, and physical toughness.  The term was first coined by RW Connell, a transsexual Australian sociologist decorated in the contemporary world of intellectuals.  She states that three elements comprise hegemonic masculinity: “the connecting of masculinity to toughness and competitiveness, the subordination of women, and the marginalization of gay men."  The concept becomes hegemonic, in layman’s terms, when a culture accepts it and allows it to resonate in its gender ideologies.
 
According to Nick Trujillo, author of “Hegemonic Masculinity on the Mound,” in which he analyzes the concept within the American sports culture, there are five particular dimensions.  That the stereotypical male exercise physical force and control is first and foremost.  Occupational achievement is followed by familial patriarchy. Frontiersmanship is the fourth, meaning the outdoorsy daredevil who can survive for a week with just a cane and some chicken wire.  Heterosexuality completes the list, and dually serves to eliminate any progressive room for change.  Basically, it sounds like Connell had a bad experience with Paul Bunyan. 
            
Paul isn’t the only one fitting the profile for hegemonic masculinity, however.  Consider the roles men play in such Disney classics as Snow White, The Little Mermaid, Beauty and the Beast, and The Lion King.  After establishing that Mom is somehow tragically out of the picture, each irresistibly beautiful princess (yes, even Nala) is saved by a swarthy man/lion dripping with testosterone.  Additionally, the other male characters in these films share the same qualities.  Arial’s father in The Little Mermaid is depicted as the almighty king of the sea, Doc is the more subtle father figure in Snow White, Scar is the cleverly evil, though nonetheless powerful, dictator in The Lion King, and who forgets Gaston in The Beauty and the Beast?
            
Gaston embodies all that is honorable and highest in the ways of hegemonic masculinity.  His character traits align with those pinpointed by Connell: aggressiveness, strength, drive, ambition, lack of emotion, and (an abundance of) self-reliance.  Disney artists crafted him to be larger than many of his fellow characters, with the exception of the beast.  His muscles bulged from his shirt, his feet were the length of Belle’s left leg, and his protruding jaw line complimented his dominating grimace in the “anything you can do, I can do better” way.
            
Let it be known that each male Disney character underwent some sort of strength training on the path to save the day.  Though the focus typically remains on the submissive picture of a “real woman,” any memory of a final scene ending with “If only he’d won the fight…” is lacking in me.  Each protagonist is drawn to hold the same bodily strength as a character from 300.  If Walt Disney liked one thing, it was definitely not sissies.
            
Occupational achievement is hazy in regard of Disney, as putting “Prince” on a resume will shoot someone straight back to Mom’s basement to play World of Warcraft nowadays.  How times have changed.  By the same token, it can be assumed that Aladdin achieved the American dream by going from “street rat” to marrying into money.  (This was probably a calculated move by his monkey companion.)  As well, the end credits of The Lion King left Simba as king of the jungle, so that’s big.
            
As previously mentioned, a rampant theme in Disney movies is a strong sense of family, or as Connell identifies it as familial patriarchy.  Such element is practically required in the bylaws of Walt’s masterpiece formula.  Belle acts dually as homemaker and daughter in The Beauty and the Beast, and traces of paternal assimilations can be seen in the beast.  He saves her from the wolves, makes sure she has food to eat, reprimands her for snooping (the trippy rose in the glass) and even surprises her with an entire library of books.  Additionally, the whole purpose of Simba’s journey to the throne, better known as Pride Rock, is to continue the dynasty his father left behind and frequently discusses with him via the sky.
            
Frontiersmanship narrows down the archetype of hegemonic masculinity.  Connell defines this role as “the daring, romantic frontiersman of yester-year, and the present day outdoorsman” (Trujillo 1991).  While maintaining that tough guy image, the frontiersman is synonymous with the cowboy, “a white male with working-class values” (Trujillo 1991).  Although these macho Disney characters project their tough guy, devoid-of-any-sensitivity images, they each seem to know a thing or two about the element of surprise and sweet talking the women who keep them going.  Ironically, each time a prince experiences love at first sight, he is in the midst of doing some mundane manly-man chore.  In Sleeping Beauty, the prince is simply doing his daily gallop through the treacherous backwoods when he spots Aurora, and without losing his masculine air, becomes captivated by her voice.  Aladdin is no exception as he becomes mystically entranced by Jasmine while doing street rat things with his friend, the monkey wearing a monkey-sized Aladdin outfit. 
            
The loudest and most pungent element of the hegemonic masculine figure is heterosexuality.  One may conclude that at the various release dates of said Disney classics were surrounding the release of RW Connell’s thesis.  Although the 90s saw somewhat of an advance for the homosexual community, present day children’s cinema still lacks any suggestion of same-sex romance.  The men of Disney maintain a strictly heterosexual taste, perhaps, based on social convention, but also based on tradition.  Most of the movies touched on are derived from folk tales originating in many different countries, so maybe it really isn’t Disney’s fault that the beast turned into a man, and not a hot husky girlfriend for Belle to ride away with on the white horse.
            
The concept of hegemonic masculinity proves to be a conceivable ideology easily grasped by adults and children alike.  Though its long journey from Greek city-states to Marxist communism led to the small-scale analysis of cartoons, it remains a dominating force in virtually every aspect of human life today.  

I really suck at blogging

College Dating Relationships: A Walk-Through
            
Escalating relationships are so much fun, really.  You meet someone, or better yet you are referred to meet someone and the anticipation is so great.  You guys hit it off and establish a few commonalities, perhaps a sacred inside joke or six.  This coincides with the first step in increasing intimacy, involvement and immediacy.  He (ok we are obviously operating from a girl’s point-of-view) somehow attains your phone number and you receive the oh so holiest of holy texts from an unknown number, wherein you find the familiar unfamiliarity of a casual introduction and also how to spell his name, as he has listed his first and last.  (Oh, you thought it was "Stephen,” but there’s a v…tricky.)
            
After you send the ceremonial mass text message to your disciples exclaiming that he FINALLY texted you after probably thirteen hours of anxiousness, you respond coolly and you pray.  Before you know it, rubbing elbows on a crammed couch in order to make room for everyone to watch a movie you don’t want to see becomes a norm, and the collision of elbows and thighs is apparent (because you can realistically only fit two people comfortably on a porch swing).  This is achieved through the second clause of intimacy, of depth and of similarity.  The book states that friends “gaze more, smile more, show more positive facial affect, sit closer, and touch more” (Burgoon, Buller, and Woodall, 254).
            
Moving through the chain comes affection, attraction, liking, and love.  Suddenly you find yourself engaging in long bouts of daydreaming about the next time he will see you, what he will think, how it will go, and how you should stop wearing sweatpants and find those earrings you leant to Madelyn because they really make your eyes “pop.”  This consumes you.  (WTF does Mom mean by "pop" anyway?!)  You fantasize about his flawless face, the kind worthy of a Taylor Swift song, and his lovable chuckle.  You feel as though the passenger seat of his car is not such, but rather the queen’s thrown next to a king’s, and you are suddenly enthralled by that song playing only because he gave the volume dial a volume spin.

After a few weeks, a few misread texts (you used an ellipsis; clearly letting him know your “that’s fine, have fun” really meant “come over or I’ll be really mad”), and a few nights of losing him after paying his cover charge, you find yourself in the passenger seat of his car, waiting for this stupid song to end because you hate it and you have no idea why you told him you loved it.  You find yourself thinking that he is not that great after all, and that perhaps your friend was right about him maybe having a lisp…  You imagine him meeting your parents, and you imagine the awkwardness between him and your brother.  You imagine what your kids will look like, and if they would have his bad skin or that annoying laugh.  Alas, the car you’ve grown so sick of reaches your driveway and he drops you off.  

These are all factors of declination in intimacy.  Such breakdowns in communication, loss of shared interests, diminishing fun, as well as the money thing (he always conveniently forgets his wallet!) really way on you, and you begin to develop the far away eyes you always listened to Mick Jagger sing about.  You just can’t wait to rid yourself of this burden of a person, and you find refuge on your porch while he waves goodbye.

Hopefully he will text you soon, fingers crossed!

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Late-lay

so0O0o I left my sports yob and now I am loving life.  I work for Senator Mary Landrieu on Wednesdays and Thursdays, and at www.sabistonconsultants.com the rest of the week.  I love it!  Here's what else I've been up to...

How I indulge - ice cream flavored snowball with cream

What I'm craving

How I survive

What I'm listening to

What I'm reading
Who inspires me right now
What I want right now, like RIGHT now
Where I always want to be - the botanical garden pond
What I can't get enough of
What I can't stop thinking about
(my own home in New Orleans)
Person who motivates me most - BeeBee
What I'm determined to do: cook well
(and have this kitchen)

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

Stairway to Heaven

If there's a bustle in your hedgerow, 
don't be alarmed now,
It's just a spring clean for the May queen.
Yes, there are two paths you can go by, 

but in the long run
There's still time to change 

the road you're on.
And it makes me wonder... 




Monday, May 23, 2011

GPS for life


I am seeking advice.  On what, I am not sure.  All I am certain of at this point, 1:45ish (really? I'm not even certain of the time? yikes) on Monday, May 23, 2011, is that I have no idea what I am doing with my life.  If possible, I would like to sit on the back breezeway where I'm staying, which provides a nice, well, breeze in the evening.  (They really knew what they were doing with that one.  Must be nice to be on track.  AH.)  

What I am seeking is some guidance, some constructive advice, and a little comic relief because at the moment, I may or may not be undergoing some sort of identity crisis.  (I'll leave the drama out of this, I promise...no tears.)  Although my uncertainty in future plans is very apparent, so is my clarity in not wanting to continue with this sports internship whatsoever, no way.  Nah ah.  Nope.  Mm mm [shakes head side to side].

Being with the people of New Orleans and meeting prominent people in, ok, kick-ass fields last night made me realize that my strengths lie in other areas, way outside the realm of sports.  (Although, I must say, we just did some interviews at the Tulane baseball practice and 2 guys asked me out and 1 whistled at me...not necessarily a dunk on my drowning ego.)  Alas, a date with a wide brimmed hat and a very large pinch of Skoal tobacco is the last thing I need right now.  (Seriously, how do they run with that stuff in their lips??  All it'd take is one car horn or random yell and all of that would be down my throat.)

I am so enthusiastic about beginning my life, putting everything I've done and learned (done-learned haha...Alabama) at school to good use, and really narrowing the vision, my vision, about exactly what I'd like to do.

What I guess I need is a recalculation of routes, if you will.

it's been a while...

...and it'll be a while.

Today I'm on day 4 of my internship.  Not really sure what I'm doing, but what I am sure about is the possibility that this is a sham.  (A sham?  Like the pillow?!)  Like...I might be on a hidden camera show.  Just a guess.  No, a hypothesis - the educated guess.  The guess used by arrogant assholes.  From the cast of people I work with to the still unknown job description, the chances of Candid Camera showing up, or maybe Ashton Kutcher, are pretty good.  Plus, what do I know about sports?

WebMD clarified my biggest fear: I'm undergoing the classic identity crisis.  Drama isn't even my thing, I promise, but I've been pretty dramatic these last few days.  Yikes.

Oy.  I'm sure they're tracking this via the common wifi.  Hopefully I'll make a habit of doing this again.  Blahblahblah

Monday, April 4, 2011

The Show Goes On

Twitta’s for losers, Jay; if someone wake up in the mornin’ wonderin’ what I’m doin’, they a loser.” Charles Barkley’s right. Twitter is for losers.

And like so many of you ladies, I too am a loser. As a late joiner to the social networking religion, I am bombarded by the convenience of having so many of my favorite voices all rolled into one happy medium.

Twitter allows me to do everything from keeping up with the headlines of all my favorite web media sources; to reading my favorite funny celebrities’ latest bit of comedic wit; to keeping tabs on my friends; to seeing funny pictures. (Funny pictures are the best, right?) But while I watch my fellow UA feminine peers ceremoniously create themselves in 140 characters or less, I can’t help but think that we could do better.

This thing that has many students, especially girls, ritually contributing their two cents five times a day was created as an outlet for information. Information in this sense means headlines, promotional work, social commentary, and of course, funny pictures.

Like all social networking sites, Twitter allows you to create an identity solely by yourself. There are reasons we choose the profile pictures we do. Because we look good!  There’s a reason why some of us still have that egg after two years. We just don’t care.            

Twitter is the essence of how we’d like to be seen, we hope. Still, some of us forget to look down at our bracelets and think, WWID? Well, what would you do? What do you want us to gather about you from this tweet?

One thing we gather from many of our peers is that, quite bluntly, things that suck are funny. Social commentary on things that just don’t make any sense is entertaining because we can all connect to it. (Thanks, Seinfeld.)

But do we always want to be reminded of the things that annoy us in an avenue for entertainment? (And why do we write so many letters?)

“Dear vending machine, thanks for giving me Grapico instead of Sierra Mist and ruining my whole life. Sincerely, #tickedoff.” This too-common drama in postal disguise really tells us nothing about you, except that you need to get a grip.

We’re in college! Wise up! You have to be at least a little bit narcissistic during this time of your life. (You’re still allowed to do whatever you want without worrying about anyone but yourself, and the people who raised you typically pay for it! They love you!)

Make a clever joke about that tiny water cup they give you at Panera Bread, as if they resent you for choosing the healthier and free option of beverages. Give a humorous play-by-play to pass the time at the health center. Own your hilarity. You know you’re funny!

Your brutal depictions of the “GDI” or “fat girl” in your class? Save it. We’ll just think you’re awful and we’ll unfollow you.

The other day, a tweet was addressed to Daniel Tosh from a UA student requesting that the comedian do more racist jokes. Her biography? A Bible verse.

Don’t confuse us. Take your misunderstandings of morality and logic to your blog. Aside from the more serious issue, this is Twitter. (This is entertainment.) (This is an app.) (Charles Barkley thinks you’re a loser.)

There are plenty of Twitter offenders though, most not as awful. Just irritating. You already probably follow them all—

The one we’re supposed to feel sorry for, but can’t stand: “The woman giving me a well-deserved deep-tissue massage for no occasion at all on this random Tuesday smells like my grandma.”

The alarmingly addicted coffee drinker who always stresses about lame assignments: “Well, after 4 cups, 2 lattes, and a bunch of espresso shots, staying awake in Rogers all night for this Geography 102 PowerPoint should be a breeze.”

The nightly soap opera queen who lives for nightly soap operas: “Barely slept after that Bachelor episode…btw, UM what’s going on in Japan? Who bombed them?”

The never alone girl whom you doubt has any real friends: “Just went to the Rec with @girl_who_only_tweets_about_food, and now I’m off to Bear Trap with my lovelies @girl1, @girl2, @girl3…@girl17!”

The shameless lover who probably has at least a few restraining orders: “OMG OMG OMG he texted me!!! I knew he liked me! He said, ‘hey, did you just drive by my house?’ Dreams really do come true!! xoxo”

And finally, the over-hashtagger: “Just saw a dog. #Iwantone #wheresmine #hernamewouldbeCinderella #mydadsaysImaprincess  #Imadaddysgirl #LovemybrandnewBMW #thanksDaddy”

We’re smart women. We can do better. We go to an excellent school. We live in the Southeast. Aside from a few smelly trees and a bit of pollen, things aren’t that bad right now for us, the female population of the University of Alabama.

We ain’t never been nothin’ but winners, according to the Bear. (Take that, Charles Barkley.) Let’s step up our game, our wit, our intelligence, our entertainment! Let’s make Twitter live out its purpose for creation, and gain followers far and wide. Let’s stop whining and start really #winning.

http://cw.ua.edu/2011/03/24/ua-females-should-focus-on-winning/