I find myself as a Feminist Interior Designer feeling the need to explain my choices to a populace that may not understand the interconnectedness of these options. How does design fit in with the feminist agenda or how does feminism fit in with design? What constitutes a feminist and can a woman be a designer and feminist or does that cross some weird bound?
I have felt this need since finding both as my passions in life to explain their importance and relation. It makes since to me, two things I am passionate about would have to have similar characteristics. Yet, my design half feels flawed in the feminist world and my feminist half feels flawed in the design world. Also, I would have to say that feminists are more accepting of my design half than the designers of my feminist one. It is not in what they say but their reactions to what I say. I will admit that I, myself, could see both sides of the situation and at first did not think that the two fields could really go together either.
I joined the ranks of those who felt they were “not feminist enough” (as if there was some magical amount of things I must do to be a feminist). I desired to be a “good feminist” to fit in with that community. However, what I failed to realize, at the time, was that to fit in I had “to be real” to myself and to do that I had to be me and stop trying to live up to some ideal I had created of what a Feminist or an Interior Designer was or wasn't as I am both and as both expand the definitions of what they mean. Just as “a narrow stereotype has always eliminated most of the people in the room” I was eliminating myself through my own stereotype. I was making myself not feel like I fit with any group. I truly believe that the biggest hurdle we must all jump over on our path of self discovery is our own thoughts, stereotypes and judgments about ourselves.
So I created this blog, The Design of Gender, where my two halves combine into a whole. Whether you want to admit it or not design has a huge impact on our everyday lives because we live in a designed world that reflects its injustices. People design things and whether consciously or not may stigmatize against another group in society. Societies “norms” can be seen in design, the privilege and oppression can also be seen and created by the design. Looking at race and U.S. history one can see that spaces were clearly designated for certain people. The spaces were designed as separate places. The space we take up as people is defined by our designed world. Looking at the difference between a work environment and a home environment clearly shows the influences of gender on the design concepts. And who exactly designs the stores and houses and buildings we use everyday? There are few women architects.
In this feminist design blog, I can write about a range of topics relating to the designed world, gender, sexism, classism, ableism, feminism, and how these intersect and create barriers for people in everyday life. It is important that new designs stop creating separation and stigmatization. The design world has a huge impact on people. It can reinforce societal standards or break free and create a new world. New Universal Design is crucial to help end oppressions.
*references to "To Be Real: Telling the Truth and Changing the Face of Feminism"
Monday, March 31, 2008
Store Layout
So I went shopping this past spring break week and noticed how many stores separate female clothing on the left and male clothing on the right. So why is it that men are on the right and therefore "right" while women are on the left and therefore "other" ? The right side is the most common dominate writng hand. I can't say that all stores were like this but it was enough that I took notice. However, I do remember one shoe store was opposite. Is it just that it is a fifty-fifty shot at which side the clothing lands on or is there another message? Further research needs to be conducted before any concrete findings can be asserted. What does everyone think? Has anyone else noticed this?
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
My Ethnicity Story
I am part of the “standardized test generation” and therefore know how to correctly fill in bubbles on test forms. However, when it comes to the “personal” question bubbles, I always had trouble. I hated the restricted options. How does one who fits in two bubbles respond? And those who don’t fit in any specific category?
See, I have always been very aware of my ethnicity. I have taken pride in being half Portuguese. In the fifth grade, I found it disheartening that I could not bubble in my “halfness” on the standardized state testing form all fifth graders were required to take. The teacher even asked us to raise our hands if we didn’t know which bubble we were supposed to fill in, if we didn’t know what our identity was. I remember her going around the room telling us our racial identity in a quick glance. We all learned something that day; we were white and you could tell just from looking at us. (My school is out in the country in a predominately white area, which could be somewhat of an understatement). I hated that I was denied the right to identify the “other half” that I was. (Yes, even in fifth grade the activist in me thought this was wrong.)
In middle school with more bubble standardized tests, I marked “other” in the race/ethnicity question on the sheet. I didn’t identify as any of the specific groups. I was my own category, my own person, and refused to conform to this notion that I should be one bubble, one identity, one life. However the “other” category has serious drawbacks not only in its name but its position in what being the “other” creates.
Throughout high school, I finally would fill in the “white” Caucasian bubble but had strong feelings against it. But in the eyes of everyone, I was white. I gave in to how society viewed me because the question was ultimately about how I was viewed from society’s standpoint and not my own identification.
During my freshman year of college, I lived in the Residence Halls on campus. I had a completely new roommate and life to become accustomed to. So when about a week into school my roommate decided to ask, “What’s your ethnicity?” My immediate response was to laugh. I have never in my life, before that moment, been asked what my ethnicity was. Even if I never liked identifying as a Caucasian person I knew that was how I was supposed to respond. I laughed at her political correctness of phrasing the question. I laughed at how she picked up on my subtle color difference. I laughed at the awkward timing of her question. Finally what I had known all along became more of a reality. I wasn’t just white; I was half Portuguese.
See, I have always been very aware of my ethnicity. I have taken pride in being half Portuguese. In the fifth grade, I found it disheartening that I could not bubble in my “halfness” on the standardized state testing form all fifth graders were required to take. The teacher even asked us to raise our hands if we didn’t know which bubble we were supposed to fill in, if we didn’t know what our identity was. I remember her going around the room telling us our racial identity in a quick glance. We all learned something that day; we were white and you could tell just from looking at us. (My school is out in the country in a predominately white area, which could be somewhat of an understatement). I hated that I was denied the right to identify the “other half” that I was. (Yes, even in fifth grade the activist in me thought this was wrong.)
In middle school with more bubble standardized tests, I marked “other” in the race/ethnicity question on the sheet. I didn’t identify as any of the specific groups. I was my own category, my own person, and refused to conform to this notion that I should be one bubble, one identity, one life. However the “other” category has serious drawbacks not only in its name but its position in what being the “other” creates.
Throughout high school, I finally would fill in the “white” Caucasian bubble but had strong feelings against it. But in the eyes of everyone, I was white. I gave in to how society viewed me because the question was ultimately about how I was viewed from society’s standpoint and not my own identification.
During my freshman year of college, I lived in the Residence Halls on campus. I had a completely new roommate and life to become accustomed to. So when about a week into school my roommate decided to ask, “What’s your ethnicity?” My immediate response was to laugh. I have never in my life, before that moment, been asked what my ethnicity was. Even if I never liked identifying as a Caucasian person I knew that was how I was supposed to respond. I laughed at her political correctness of phrasing the question. I laughed at how she picked up on my subtle color difference. I laughed at the awkward timing of her question. Finally what I had known all along became more of a reality. I wasn’t just white; I was half Portuguese.
Sunday, March 2, 2008
Exploring Ableism through Design: A Day in a Wheelchair
Recently, as part of a class assignment, I had to check out a wheelchair and go to my classes on campus and explore how design affects everyday occurrences for different abilities. So for half a day I got to experience ableism and how the designed world helps create and stigmatize people of different physical abilities. We are often taught as young children to not stare at "different" people. But we are intrigued by that difference and look because of it. When does looking change to staring?
Socializing ideas taught at a young age continue into adulthood. Being in the wheelchair, I found myself the center of the idea of "not staring." People would look and then look away. I was there but not really acknowledged. And people would try to help but didn't want to step on my own ability to navigate the world for myself. Some asked while others just opened the door for me with a kind smile. People are nice but still are uncertain of what they are supposed to do and not do when it comes to helping.
My independent nature meant I wanted to do everything myself. Though I don't know what I would have done without the kindness of total strangers. A woman offered to push me up the hill I was attempting to wheel up by myself. I was happy to have the help. It is a tough world out there, navigating in a wheelchair in an environment built for the mythical norm of able bodied people, especially on a college campus built long ago.
However, I found even the newest building, which is LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design) certified, hard to navigate in a wheelchair. Simple things like the weight of doors or the height of tables and counters were impediments to my normal daily tasks. I would have thought that universal design principles would have been incorporated in this new building that was also designed to be so eco-friendly. One of the positive features was the step-less entry. I could use the same entrance as everyone else. I was not forced because of my different ability to use a back entrance designed after the building was built. Ordering food, using a water fountain, library computer and the bathroom were interesting tasks to complete as well.
After I returned the wheelchair, I had a new found appreciation for being able to walk. I noticed that the smoothness of the sidewalk makes a huge difference and even slight slopes are hard to roll up.
I feel that universal design is important in helping to eradicate ableism in society simply by designing for all abilities. Everyone can benefit from these design principles from children to older adults and parents with children in strollers. Design can promote equality and that is a powerful thing.
The next time you are walking around notice how different it would be in a wheelchair. Are the doors automatic? How are the table heights, or counter heights? Is the brick or the sidewalk going to be a smooth surface to roll over? Notice sink and paper towel heights in bathrooms.
Become aware of your surroundings.
Socializing ideas taught at a young age continue into adulthood. Being in the wheelchair, I found myself the center of the idea of "not staring." People would look and then look away. I was there but not really acknowledged. And people would try to help but didn't want to step on my own ability to navigate the world for myself. Some asked while others just opened the door for me with a kind smile. People are nice but still are uncertain of what they are supposed to do and not do when it comes to helping.
My independent nature meant I wanted to do everything myself. Though I don't know what I would have done without the kindness of total strangers. A woman offered to push me up the hill I was attempting to wheel up by myself. I was happy to have the help. It is a tough world out there, navigating in a wheelchair in an environment built for the mythical norm of able bodied people, especially on a college campus built long ago.
However, I found even the newest building, which is LEED (Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design) certified, hard to navigate in a wheelchair. Simple things like the weight of doors or the height of tables and counters were impediments to my normal daily tasks. I would have thought that universal design principles would have been incorporated in this new building that was also designed to be so eco-friendly. One of the positive features was the step-less entry. I could use the same entrance as everyone else. I was not forced because of my different ability to use a back entrance designed after the building was built. Ordering food, using a water fountain, library computer and the bathroom were interesting tasks to complete as well.
After I returned the wheelchair, I had a new found appreciation for being able to walk. I noticed that the smoothness of the sidewalk makes a huge difference and even slight slopes are hard to roll up.
I feel that universal design is important in helping to eradicate ableism in society simply by designing for all abilities. Everyone can benefit from these design principles from children to older adults and parents with children in strollers. Design can promote equality and that is a powerful thing.
The next time you are walking around notice how different it would be in a wheelchair. Are the doors automatic? How are the table heights, or counter heights? Is the brick or the sidewalk going to be a smooth surface to roll over? Notice sink and paper towel heights in bathrooms.
Become aware of your surroundings.
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