Tag: feminism

Brazil’s Political Crisis Explained for Non-Brazilians
A week ago, Brazil’s House of Deputies voted 367 to 137 to impeach President Dilma Rousseff. The vote lasted five hours and involved a lot of unnecessary shouting, spitting, and confetti.

I’m sure you heard about the impeachment vote even if you live outside of Brazil and aren’t following international politics. You might also have seen a headline about a corruption scandal in Brazil involving billions of dollars in public funds. Maybe you’ve read something about Brazil’s collapsing economy. The country’s gotten a lot of headlines in the last few months and a person could understandably be wondering, “What the hell is going on in Brazil?”

Here’s what’s going on in Brazil with enough context to paint a painfully vivid picture and enough jokes to make it palatable. To understand the extent of the seething rage under Brazilians’ normally chill exteriors, I need to jump back in time three decades.

Brazil is a relatively young democracy. The army seized control in 1964 and stayed in power until the mid-80s. The generals perfectly followed every page of the Military-Dictator Handbook, repressing speech, organizing, and all social rights. By 1980 student, workers, and militants were pushing back, and that year there were massive strikes organized, among others, by a young Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva aka Lula. Remember him. He’ll show up again. And again. And again until it becomes painfully ironic.

The strikes and protests helped lead to a “redemocratization” and a new constitution was adopted on October 5, 1988, making Brazil’s current government younger than I am.

The National Congress in Brasilia, currently hosting many future inmates.

The Constitution divided the Federal Government into three parts just like in the US: Legislative, Executive, and Judicial. Differently than the US, both the Executive branch and the Federal Government in general are much more powerful than in the US. Don’t be fooled by the constant use of flip-flops and nicknames in Brazil. The country is extremely hierarchical. It’s a cultural legacy brought to Brazil by Portugal’s policy of ruling colonies by refusing to build universities or even roads in order to keep people in total subjugation.

The current constitution reflects this deeply embedded hierarchy by giving certain powers and privileges to members of the federal government. For example, members of Congress, cabinet ministers, and the President can only be investigated and tried by the Supreme Court. Currently 303 members of Congress are facing criminal charges or under investigation, so the Justices must be pretty busy. At least the President of the Supreme Court gets the perk of being fifth in line to assume the presidency in the event of a political disaster.

Speaking of which, Dilma’s impeachment is actually the second impeachment of Brazil’s young republic. They impeached the guy back in ’92, but given the awful state of Brazil’s economy then, a presidential impeachment probably barely made the front page. The economic situation in Brazil throughout the 80s and early 90s was terrible. Like invest in precious metals because the country is on its third currency bad. The inflation rates looked more like typos than real data. People ran to the grocery store on payday snatching items off the shelves before the clerk could put a new price sticker on it.

During these turbulent early years of the republic, the Worker’s Party, (known as PT) which got started during the strikes in 1980, was the leader of the opposition coalition in Brazil.

Embracing its roots as the voice of the working classes, PT fought against the deeply entrenched economic elite and policies that facilitated a huge wealth gap. Lula ran for president as the PT candidate four times before finally winning in 2002. You only fail when you quit, right? At this point the economy had stabilized. Lula initiated some social welfare programs that lifted millions out of poverty. China began buying everything that Brazil could produce. The economy took off. By 2006 developed countries were like “Hey Brazil, when did you guys show up to the party? We gave your chair to India a few years ago, but we can ask for it back.”

An Economist cover from 2009

For the first time in 20 years, Brazil had a growing economy and stable government. In 2011 Brazil passed the United Kingdom to become the 6th largest economy in the world. Brazilians were pumped, proud, and ready to finally take their place as a global power.

All this history is to give you some idea of the soul-crushing societal let down that happened when the shit hit the fan in 2014.

From a growth rate of 7.5% in 2010, Brazil’s economy shrank 3.8% in 2015. Today, Brazil is the 9th largest economy behind Italy, which has a fraction of the people and arable land. Unemployment is 8.2% and inflation is 9.4%, compared the government’s target rate of 4.5%. All those numbers are just to say that the country’s in its second year of recession and people are pissed.

At the same time that Brazil’s economy was headed down the toilet, the largest corruption scandal in any democratic country ever was uncovered. Now is the time for popcorn because this story makes House of Cards seem small time and easy to follow.

Back in the 90s, there was a humble money launderer who made a decent living hiding illegal income of politicians. He was arrested, convicted, served his time, and released. By the mid 00s, federal police noticed he was back in business. Apparently in Brazil, money launderers are like great Mexican restaurants. They’re rare and if you find one, you keep going back even if you know deep down it’s probably being investigated by public authorities.

Well, police grabbed the humble launderer and the guy, who’d been to jail before and was not doing that again, cut a deal and started dropping names. And more names. And more names. Police had uncovered a corruption scheme amounting to more the $5.3 billion and involving the most powerful political and economic players in Brazil, the now internationally infamous Lava Jato case.

From 2004-2014 political leaders through the state owned oil company, Petrobras, awarded contracts to companies that grossly overcharged the government, and the companies used some of that excess payment to say “thank you” to congressmen and party leaders for awarding them the contracts in the first place. Nothing shows appreciation like a stack of cold hard cash.

And what party was in control of Congress and the Executive at this time? PT and its coalition partners. The Worker’s Party. The party that built it’s reputation on fighting for working class citizens against the privileged elite was the driving force behind the largest theft of taxpayer’s money in the history of democracy. (I told you Lula’s story got ironic.)

Foto Oficial Presidenta Dilma Rousseff. Foto: Roberto Stuckert Filho.

PT is also President Dilma’s party.

Back in 2015 when the investigation really took off, Dilma had NOT been implicated in the investigation. Everyone around was. PT’s treasurer is currently in jail. Lula’s former chief of staff is there too. Lula himself was under investigation. But not Dilma.

The thing is…Dilma was Chairwoman of Petrobras at exactly the time when the corruption was happening. That left 3 possibilities concerning her involvement:
1. She knew about and participated.
2. She knew about it but did nothing to stop it.
3. She didn’t have a clue Petrobras was overpaying by billions of dollars and was the worst chairperson in history.
All possibilities made Dilma look bad. Her approval rating plummeted to 13% only 3 months after her second inauguration in 2015.

And a cover from 2015

So to recap, by July of 2015 Brazil was grappling with shattered expectations, a terrible economy, an epic corruption scandal, and a universally disliked president. The Brazilian people were understandably furious at the government for blowing the country’s best chance in a century to really improve quality of life and become a global player.

However, none of these things is grounds for impeachment. According to the Constitution, a president can only be impeached for committing a crime while in office.

So how did Dilma end up getting impeached? We’re stepping into the political muck now. Put your boots on.

October 7, 2015 The Federal Accounting Tribunal files for impeachment accused Dilma of fiscal pedaling in 2014. They claim Dilma forced the state controlled bank to make social programs payments from the bank’s own funds because the government was short on money and her administration was trying to hide that fact during an election year. Technically, the federal government cannot payoff its own debts with the bank’s funds, but it’s been done by every president. It’s very shaky legal ground, like a frozen pond in spring during an earthquake shaky.

December 2, 2015 After ignoring the impeachment request for months, Eduardo Cunha, Brazil’s equivalent of Speaker of the House, formally accepts the charges. He does this hours after PT drops its support of Cunha in an ethics committee investigation of him on charges of bribery, tax evasion, and money laundering. But he swears, cross his heart-and-hope-to-die, he didn’t advance the impeachment out of spite.

December 17, 2015 The Supreme Court defines the impeachment process because the Chamber of Deputies can’t get its act together and form a commission of 65 deputies to consider the charges with any semblance of openness and fairness. The Court rejects two commissions formed by the Chamber, and the proceedings are paused indefinitely.

March 4, 2016 As part of the Lava Jato investigation, prosecutors bring former president Lula in for questioning. Federal Police raid his home. People freak out both for and against him.

March 11 In a jaw-dropping move, prosecutors ask for preventive detention for Lula. Lula supporters clashed with police when he was being taken for questioning. There is no doubt an actual arrest would spark violence.

March 13 Millions take to the streets in the largest anti-government protest in Brazilian history. The people weren’t protesting only Dilma’s administration. Several opposition politicians got booed off the mic when they tried to speak. It was truly The People v. The Federal Government.

March 14 In what has to be the most blatant middle-finger giving from a democratically elected president, President Dilma doubles down and starts discussing appointing Lula for a cabinet position! F.U. anti-government protestors! Dilma wants to make Lula Ministro de Casa Civil, the chief administrator for the Executive and the most powerful person after the president. Oh, and remember that members of the federal government can only be investigated by the Supreme Court, so the case against Lula would be moved away from the prosecutors currently investigating him. But it’s for the good of Brazil, guys!

March 15 Plea-deal testimony from Senator Delcídio do Amaral, the head of PT in the senate, is released and he testifies that Dilma’s Education Minister offered him a bribe in exchange for not working with prosecutors. He also says that President Dilma knew all about the corruption happening at Petrobras during her time as chairwoman. I can finally fill in my Dilma square on my Lava Jato Bingo card!

How convenient for future casting directors that Moro is an attractive man in real life.

March 16 Judge Sergio Moro, in charge of the Lava Jato case, releases a recording of a call between President Dilma and Lula revealing 1) that prosecutors had tapped a former president’s phone! and 2) Dilma seems to be appointing Lula only to keep him out of jail. While everyone freaked out over the phone call, a few did question if Judge Moro should have given up completely on judicial impartiality and released recordings in an ongoing investigation from a tap with a just-expired warrant.

March 17 Lula is sworn in as Minister. A new impeachment commission is sworn in. Basically, a lot of swearing happened in Brazil this day.

March 18 Supreme Court Justice Gilmar Mendes suspends Lula’s appointment on the grounds it was a blatant attempt to keep him from going to jail. Justice Mendes said it with more legal jargon but that was the gist of his decision. Also, large protests happen across Brazil against impeachment.

Can we say “future political career”?

March 22 The Supreme Court removes Judge Moro from Lula’s case to review his decision to release the recorded conversation. The Supreme Court will now oversee the investigation against Lula. Oh well, he can console himself with the fact people are wearing his face on t-shirts.

March 29 PMDB, the largest party in PT’s coalition, drops out and pledges to support Dilma’s impeachment. PMDB is also the party of Vice President Michel Temer, so things got super awkward at the Presidential Palace.

April 11 The Commission to the consider Dilma’s impeachment votes 38-27 in favor of impeachment. The question will now be to a vote by the Full House of Deputies. Fun Fact: Of the 65 members on the Impeachment Commission, 37 are facing criminal charges themselves. I think the vote concluded with a Deputy ironically shouting “If we burn, you burn with us!”

April 13 President Dilma publicly accuses Vice President Temer of conspiring against her.

April 17 The House of Deputies votes 367 – 137 in favor of impeachment, more than securing the two-thirds majority needed to pass.

And that brings us to today. The Senate has until May 11 to vote on the issue and simple majority is enough to suspend Dilma and start a trial.

A lot of people celebrated after the impeachment, but despite the anger and disappointment with Dilma’s administration support for impeachment is at 61%. A majority but not the super majority you might expect given Dilma’s 10% approval rating.

Ideally, the only question would be “Did Dilma commit a crime by using state bank funds to make government payments?” and a trial in the Senate would answer that question. Of course, nothing happening in Brazil at the moment is ideal except maybe for vendors of inflatable Lula dolls in prison stripes.

The reason many people have no faith in the current government but don’t support impeachment is because everyone else in line to be president is way WORSE than Dilma. Let’s go through the line of succession.

Temer during the impeachment vote. He seems very cheerful. He’d probably manage to stay positive while stabbing you in the back.

Vice President Temer is also under investigation and facing impeachment charges. He was named in Senator Amaral’s testimony for participating in an illegal ethanol purchasing scheme. His wife is 43 years younger than he is and has his name tattooed on the nape of her neck which I know is not a crime and and I shouldn’t judge but…ick.

Eduardo Cunha, the guy who led the charge for impeachment, is under indictment for taking as much as $40 million in bribes and faces 184 years in prison. He’s also known for aggressively pushing anti-choice legislation and tweeting bible verses. “And Jesus said, ‘Get while the getting’s good’.” Temer has already expressed support for Cunha and said he won’t ask Cunha to step down. Bros before the rule of law, amiright?

Third in line for president is the Senate leader, Renan Calheiros, who is also under investigation for corruption. Among the seven charges the Supreme Court is considering against him are accepting $600,000 to stop a Senate probe into the Lava Jato case and receiving $1.7 million in bribes for a drilling contract.

I think there’s one maid working at the Presidential Palace who isn’t likely to be in jail within the year. Maybe they could offer her the job?

Brazilians are facing a very tough choice in deciding between pro and anti impeachment. Did President Dilma commit a crime worthy of losing office and even if she did…do we give power to lying, hypocritical assholes? Who do you pick when everyone is a criminal?

Some commentators say Brazilians are being duped by a media controlled by that historically entrenched elite. They argue leaders pushing for impeachment are far more corrupt and will hault the Lava Jato once back in power. While it’s true the media here is extremely conservative both politically and socially, I think it’s a pretty patronizing view of the Brazilian people to think more than 60% of the country has been fooled by a handful of smarmy, rich guys. First, Dilma’s government did engage in some shady accounting and as for the Lava Jato case, she’s either guilty or incredibly incompetent. Nobody’s impeaching a saint. Second, from what I personally have seen and read from those in favor of impeachment believe removing Dilma is only the first step, not the last, in rooting out corruption in the government.

Still, it seems unlikely Congress is going to keep impeaching presidents until they get to the President of the Supreme Court, so removing Dilma just puts someone as guilty but more conservative in power who’s likely to stay there. For those against the impeachment, there’s nothing but a line of criminally indicted men from the economic elite pushing Dilma off a cliff. And she’s not even being impeached due to corruption. She’s being impeached for dubious accounting and to those against impeachment, it’s a purely political move.

Enough corruption!

One thing is absolutely clear, no one in Brasilia is removing themselves power. The only thing they all agree on is that they did nothing wrong. If this were Japan, a third of Congress would have committed suicide by now, but alas we’re in Brazil and once elected to office a person becomes immune to shame. They used to be immune from consequences too, but that seems to be finally changing. That’s one thing, at least, Brazilians can be proud of.
April 26, 2016
The Consequences of Going Gray

It’s been more than difficult finding time to write this post. My husband is away on a networking trip while Kiddo’s in the middle of summer vacation. That puts me on twenty-four hours a day parent duty. I’d probably be a little more frustrated if I didn’t know these networking trips of his were going to start tapering off.

You see my husband’s getting older, and in the spirit of honesty, it’s obvious. He’s getting more wrinkles and creases, but it’s the gray hair that’s really noticeable. My husband has black hair which has gone from lightly dusted to preserved cod salty in the last few years. Of course getting older isn’t a problem per se. He just could look a lot younger if he wanted to.

With all that gray hair, he’s not going to be tapped for any promotion. The quality of his work is going to become less obvious as people start focusing on his whiter hair. I’m sure the university he teaches for is going to want someone a little…fresher to represent them at conferences. I’m afraid it’s going to affect his student evaluations. Those undergrads are going to look at him and think his complete apathy about his appearance clearly indicates a certain indifference toward everything including class planning.

I’m also worried it’s going to affect his social life. He hasn’t said anything, but I think some of his friends have stopped calling. I feel terrible for him, but I can’t blame them. By not coloring his hair, he’s basically throwing his mortality in the face of everyone around him. Who wants to sit next to Mr. Death-is-Inevitable at the dinner party? That’s kind of a bummer.

Of course, it’s going to be harder to make new friends. Everyone says they don’t judge people by appearances, but let’s be honest. We all check a person’s roots before striking up a conversation.

I’ve made subtle comments about the gray hoping he’ll take some interest in his appearance and stop letting himself go. I realize I’m never going to talk him into botox or skin peels, but if he would just invest a little in himself, I think he’d really perk up and be more confident in all areas of his life. It feels like he doesn’t love himself anymore. When he looks in the mirror, he doesn’t see the incredibly handsome man I see. That’s why I want him to dye his hair. I think he would feel more handsome if he would just get rid of the gray.

Watching my husband deal with getting older has made me glad I’m a woman. I’ve been going gray since my early twenties. If had to hide my white hair, at the rate my hair grows…ugh, I’d have spent a small fortune on salon appointments. Fortunately, I’m not a man, and I don’t have to work at making everyone think I’m at least a decade younger than my actual age to be happy with my appearance.

Actually, women don’t really talk about our age that much. Now that I think about it, I’m not even sure I know exactly how old my best buddies are. We’re usually too busy talking about politics, whether or not to refinance our houses, the cost of health care. And sports. I swear my friends and I still don’t get through one round of drinks before someone references Lloyd’s hat trick in the World Cup final. Why would age even come up?

I hope my husband knows that I’ll love him no matter how old he gets and what he looks like. I hope he knows how handsome he is. Gray hair and all.

This of course is a piece of comedy. Although I have, in fact, been going gray since my early twenties. Unfortunately, I have spent a small fortune on trips to the salon. I had coloring my hair in the same category as bathing, an essential and basic part of my self-care routine. But in the last year, afternoons to myself for writing were in short supply. I didn’t want to give up a whole afternoon to painting my hair, so I let my hair grow and grow and eventually ended up with a couple inches of gray hair at my temples.

No, that’s not a lighting effect. That’s four months of hair growth highlighting my temple.

And life’s pretty much the same. It turns out coloring hair is a choice. One my salt-and-pepper headed husband chooses not to pursue without comment or consequence. I’m going to opt out too from now on. I’m not promising to never color my hair again. But for now, there are other things I’d rather do with my time and money. Will you still invite me over for dinner?

This post is part of Happy Mama Happy Baby‘s Body Positive January. Check out her site for more awesome posts from great writers, book reviews, and giveaways!

January 22, 2016
A Parent’s Weekly Writing Routine

MONDAY

Morning:

School Holiday so entertain and feed kid

Afternoon:

Entertain and feed kid

Evening:

Entertain, feed kid, and persuade her to take a bath

Night:

Fight with kid over everything because you’re both exhausted, Fight about getting out of the bath, brushing teeth, number of bedtime stories, going to sleep

9:30pm Open computer and stare listlessly at manuscript, pour wine, search new releases on Netflix

TUESDAY

Morning:

8 am Wake up & work on social media – Wake up late because child had a nightmare about Mommy getting her head bitten off by a monster and we were up for an hour in the middle of the night, race to get to swim class on time

9:59am Arrive at school on time

10:00am Watch kid’s swim class

10:40am Gym – Because yesterday was a school holiday – Think about dialogue for a tricky scene while on treadmill – Stand in front of gym for five minutes trying to remember what it was I needed to get at the drugstore…Bug Repellant!! I noticed my daughter’s almost out when packing her backpack.

Afternoon:

12:30pm Lunch w/ husband

1:30pm Write – Computer reminds me of family member’s birthday, quickly search internet for present

3pm Get back to Writing – Make mistake of checking phone and finding 41 messages from parents in kid’s class on the firing of a favorite teaching assistant in addition to a few suggestions for weekend playdates

4:15pm Get back to Writing – Suddenly remember a package for my daughter waiting to be picked up, race to post office, Dammit! race back home to get wallet, race to post office, realize there’s not enough time to get back home before school pick-up, go to bakery and get dinner

5:45om Pick up child

Evening:

6-6:30pm Dinner – eaten while child is having her snack

6:30-7:30pm Family Playtime

7:30 Begin persuading child to take a bath

7:50 Get child in bath

8:15 Finally persuade child to leave bath

Night:

8:30 Argue about teeth brushing

9pm Read bedtime stories

9:30 Write for two hours

WEDNESDAY

Morning:

8am Wake up & work on social media – Wake up to wet sheets and crying child because she peed in her bed. My fault. I gave her the whole bottle of coconut water after dinner. Can’t give her coconut water after dinner. Gotta remember that.

9:30am Take child to school

10:15am Gym, Revise previous night’s writing while on treadmill

11:30am Stop by toy store to pick up birthday present for kid’s classmate

11:50am Make appointment for kid’s haircut on way home

Afternoon:

12:30pm Lunch with Husband

1:15pm Write – Get call from school saying child is fine but has fallen and hit her head on the corner of a concrete pillar and now has a giant knot on her forehead, decide to pick her up from school early because I can watch her more closely than the school and it’s better to be safe than sorry

Evening:

6pm Dinner

6:30-7:30pm Family Playtime

7:30 Begin persuading child to take a bath

7:50 Get child in bath

8:15 Finally persuade child to leave bath

Night:

8:30 Argue about teeth brushing

9pm Read bedtime stories

9:30 Write for two hours

THURSDAY

Morning:

8am Yes. Finally. I am waking up to work… –Another school holiday?! Are you kidding me? Schools are closed and teachers don’t work on Teacher Appreciation Day?! What sort of socialist hellscape am I living in?

Afternoon:

Entertain and feed kid

Evening:

Entertain, feed kid, and persuade her to take a bath

Night:

Fight with kid over everything because you’re both exhausted, Fight about getting out of the bath, brushing teeth, number of bedtime stories, going to sleep

9:30pm Open computer and stare listlessly at manuscript, pour wine, search new releases on Netflix

FRIDAY

Morning:

8am Wake up & work on social media

9:30am Take kid to school

10am Gym, Tweak scene that has been complete in my head for a week while on the treadmill

11:30am Write – in total amazement that I’m looking at manuscript before lunch

Afternoon:

12:30pm Lunch with Husband

1:15pm Write – get call from school that daughter is complaining of a headache, she doesn’t have a fever, tell school she’s just trying to come home early and that I’ll pick up right after dinner

2:30pm Get back to Writing – get call from school saying that child has just thrown-up, race to pick her up driven by crushing guilt because she was not in fact lying about feeling bad

Evening:

Hover over sick child with bucket

Night:

Hover over sick child, Give her a bath, Get her to sleep in my bed, Read in bed to keep an eye on her

SATURDAY

No working. Family day.

SUNDAY

No working. Family day.

I imagine books entitled Write a Novel in 30 have a special chapter for parents that starts “First, find a place to send your children for the month.” If I get 2,000 words down, it was an awesome writing day and I don’t even have to do the daily household chores. We have a housekeeper! It’s one of the perks of living in a country that values human labor less than tomatoes. Imagine throwing in cooking, cleaning, ironing, grocery shopping, and basic home maintenance to that schedule. Imagine more than one kid! That’s the life of a parent trying to write.

A writer and mom I follow on Twitter recently wrote about finishing the 6th draft of a manuscript she’s been working on for 3 years. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s been able to get through so many drafts in that amount of time.

I raise a fist in salute to my fellow writers and parents. I bow in deep admiration to those…oh crap, I forgot to get the cotton balls for the ghost craft happening at the Halloween party I’m throwing on Saturday. Better go now. Gotta pick up the kid in an hour.

October 26, 2015
I Gave My Daughter a Dinosaur

It all started when the Littlest Pet army wanted to steal Polly Pocket’s kitty.

In her desperation, Polly called on her big sister, Wonder Woman, to defend her from the oncoming hoard of Littlest Pets. Wonder Woman joined the battle, the tide seemed to turn, but the Littlest Pets called on their Pteranodon freed from Jurassic World for air support. Wonder Woman countered by summoning her dragon, Storm Fly, and together they defended Polly and her pets from the Pteranodon. The battle raged. A pink poodle was decapitated. Then everyone stopped to have dinner.

I’ve clearly screwed up my daughter.

I should have realize it sooner, but it only became clear as I separated the earth-toned reptiles from the candy-colored pets. My daughter is terribly confused, and I have only myself to blame.

I should never have put both super heroes and Polly Pockets in the same playroom. I wasn’t thinking. She’s a girl. It’s not enough that she likes Littlest Pets and Polly Pocket; she must like only Littlest Pets and Polly Pockets. By acting out “Polly has a new pet kitty” and “Epic Battle to the death”, I have no idea what label to ascribe to her. Tomboy? Animal lover? Warrior? Caretaker? What is she?!

If I’m confused, I can only imagine everyone else in her life. How are people supposed to know what present to get her when she’ll play with anything? I can’t ask friends and family to walk down more than one aisle at the toy store.

Also I don’t think these toys can be used together safely. Thomas the Train’s wheels might fall off if he has to pull the Littlest Pets. What if Elsa’s dress gets glitter on the Pteranodon? Dinosaurs that were bred in a lab from DNA preserved in prehistoric mosquitoes weren’t meant to be covered in glitter. Neither are the toys inspired by them. The glitter will probably erode the wings off. I’m worried Batman might combust if he’s made to ride a My Little Pony.

The effects of this cross-play on the toys themselves are actually minor concerns compared to the effects on my daughter. If I had only stuck to tea sets, maybe she wouldn’t insist on climbing the bookshelves. Or leaping off the bed. Or running. Or moving. She would have learned that girls are supposed to sit quietly for long periods of time. If I’d limited her to baby dolls, she would have learned that changing diapers is an important part of care for infants handled exclusively by females. As such, girls aren’t supposed to find poop funny. Human waste management is a serious responsibility and constantly imagining your stuffed animals pooping on your mom’s head is NOT hilarious.

I definitely haven’t bought her enough Barbies. She’s still willing to leave the house with her hair unbrushed. If I hadn’t diluted the effects of the Barbies and princesses by including some super heroes, she’d be obsessed with accessories by now. As it is, she only wants to wear a crown some of the time not all of the time. Since she doesn’t have pierced ears, how are people supposed to know she’s a girl without a tiara and perfectly styled hair?

Allowing all the violent play was another mistake. That battle the Littlest Pets engaged in was brutal and not girly at all. Parenting fail. I bought the swords and shields. My husband and I read her illustrated Greek myths that referenced the Trojan War. We were forcing her to go against her nature when I taught her how to make a fist and my husband recalled his fencing days to teach her to properly thrust and parry. We should have known that having to set the rule “You cannot actually touch anyone when pretending to fight” was an indication our daughter’s development had gone off track.

It doesn’t matter that no scientific evidence has linked war play in kids to aggression in adults. I’m sure that’s only true for boys. A girl playing war is just unnatural. No girl in history has ever wanted to punch something. Girls don’t feel frustration and anger or desire to be powerful and heroic. They only ever want to rock babies, cook dinner, dress dolls, and put someone else’s needs ahead of their own. All girls. All of the time.

As every clothing, toy, and book store here in Vitoria make clear, girls are all the same by nature. So I can only assume my husband and I are to blame for my daughter being different.

I was still reeling from this disturbing revelation when my daughter announced her choice of Halloween costume. She wants to be a knight riding a flying unicorn.

“Like the man and his flying horse,” she said.

“What man?” I said confused. “You mean Bellerophon and Pegasus?!”

“Yes, like Beliphon.”

Great. On top of everything else, we’ve turned her into a nerd.

October 19, 2015
Dear Brazil: Pay Your Nannies a Living Wage!

Seriously Brazil, it’s 2015. Pay your help a living wage.

Dear reader, if you’re not in the mood for a rant, check back next week.

It all started when I received an early morning WhatsApp message from a fellow mom asking the group about rates for a substitute nanny while the permanent nanny is on vacation.

A little cultural context. Here in Brazil full-time nannies are common. This was surreal for me coming from the United States. In the U.S. full-time nannies are something only the Jolie-Pitt or Kardashian families can afford. I remember a combination of church daycares and grandparents after school and over the summers while my parents worked. Personally, I’ve never known anyone in the U.S. with a full-time nanny.

In Brazil, almost everyone I know has a full-time maid and many have a full-time nanny too. Often if the family has kids but can’t afford two employees, the maid will have childcare duties in addition to the housekeeping, grocery shopping, and cooking. Several of our friends also employ a weekend nanny because labor laws in Brazil don’t allow families to ~~demand~~ ask their nanny to work 7 days a week. It’s like Downton Abbey in flip-flops with more beer and better weather.

How can these middle class and professional families afford full time nannies and housekeepers in the year 2015? Minimum wage in Brazil for 2015 is $250 a month. (I’m using today’s exchange rate of 1 U.S. dollar to 3.15 Brazilian reais to put all values into US dollars.) U.S. federal minimum wage is $7.25 per hour, so assuming four 40-hour-weeks a month, the U.S. federal minimum wage per month is $1,160.

$1,160 versus $250 a month.

Now, a lower minimum wage doesn’t necessarily indicate a lower quality of life.

Maybe the cost of living is significantly lower in Brazil than the US? Maybe goods are less expensive? They’re not. The only things cheap in Brazil are coconuts and people, and even the coconuts are experiencing inflation.

Maybe there are a variety of free/very low-cost public services in Brazil? There aren’t. Public services from school to health care are abysmal. Everyone who can scrape together the cost goes private, and a full-time nanny at minimum wage is significantly cheaper than private day cares here in Vitoria.

But there’s no way people pay nannies minimum wage, right? In practice people are paying more than the legal minimum, aren’t they?

This brings us back to this morning’s Whatsapp conversation among local moms.

A mom wanted to know what other people had paid for someone to fill-in as a nanny for a month. The values reported ranged from $254 to $476 for the month. For two children. For the entire day, Monday through Friday.

But these shockingly low values are not what drove me to clutch at my hair and mutter obscenities at my computer. Nor was I upset that a family of four is looking for the highest quality childcare at the lowest possible cost.

I got upset after I sent a message saying that our kids’ pregnant preschool teacher was at the doctor again due to pain from her sciatic nerve. I commented about how what she really needed as a present was a housekeeper. My message got no response. The conversation continued about nannies until finally the original poster asked, “Did your nannies just take care of the kids or did they also clean their rooms and do laundry?” This sparked the rant.

Dear Brazilian Middle and Upper Classes, nannies are people! Housekeepers are people! Preschool teachers and assistants are people!

There are so many wonderful things about Brazilian culture, like the attitude toward children, the judicial selection process, and dental hygiene. But the way upper classes treat people in the working class is NOT one of those things. I’m so tired of listening to good, ethical people, friends, colleagues and parents I respect, refer to their nannies or maids as “them”. I’ve heard complaints about how much the maid eats, stories about getting older kids to spy on the maid and report back, and indignation about a nanny who went and got married. The underlying message is that “we” must be vigilant against “them” or they will use up our sugar and make a lot of long distance phone calls.

When I saw the movie The Help, I thought, “Wow, that’s like present day Brazil”. That’s what I see here. Upper-classes in Brazil often deny the basic humanity of the people working in their homes. (And to Brazilians who protest that Brazil doesn’t have The Help‘s racial component, I recommend a walk around Ipanema in the afternoon or a visit to a private daycare in Vitoria. Look at the color of the kids and look at the color of the people holding their hands.)

I believe for most people it’s unconscious. It’s how their own parents and everyone in their circle has always talked about nannies and housekeepers and drivers. They’ve internalized this division, don’t see anything wrong with it, and haven’t been challenged on it.

I’m not against paying for a housekeeper. We employ one. I’m not against paying for a nanny. I believe affordable child care is a HUGE barrier keeping women from advancing in the workforce in the U.S. and Brazil. I’m writing this while my kid is at daycare. Many of the mom’s I know are amazing professionals, and it’s only possible because they can find childcare be it a daycare or nanny. Many moms want to work. Many moms HAVE to work. Quality childcare is a necessity.

I’m against a system that keeps people from empathizing. That makes it “us” versus “them”. That causes a really nice person to ask the woman she’s paying almost minimum wage to watch her kids if she could also do the laundry.

What about the kids of the people we pay to watch our kids? Who watches them if we pay their moms $300 a month? Is it ethical to ask a woman willing to assume the enormous task of keeping two small children alive for only $350/month to also do the laundry? Is this woman really in a position to say “no”? Are we going to be annoyed if she does? If we’re paying minimal costs, why do we expect top-quality service and undying loyalty?

Beyond respecting and talking to each other as people as opposed to being constantly on guard against the machinations of “those” others who want to exploit us…I have an idea for improving things for the moms, maids, and childcare workers.

Everyone gets rid of their housekeeper.

We take the money we were paying to housekeepers and put it toward childcare, either by increasing the wage of the nanny or increasing the salary of daycare and preschool teachers. The former housekeepers come together and start cleaning-service businesses. Their former employers, now clients, hire the company for once or twice a week, and now the preschool teachers and nannies may even be able to afford the housekeepers’ services with their increases in salary. The former housekeepers can also find employment at all the new public daycares the government will open in my utopia.

And what about all the cooking and laundry and grocery shopping left in the wake of the maids? Well, I think it’s time for Brazilian men to stop watching soccer and do some freakin’ laundry.

How does that sound?

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June 29, 2015
We’re All A Little Prejudiced: My Personal Encounters with Racism Around the World

Is your dark complexion keeping you from happiness?

Many years ago I was dating a handsome Punjabi who lived in Milan, and we took a trip to Paris. (That sentence makes me seem way more interesting than I actually am.) While leaving our hotel one morning, he offered to carry my wallet. “Thanks,” I said, “but these pants have pockets. I carry my own money. I’m not an Indian woman.” He, being a human with feelings, rightfully gave me the silent treatment for the rest of the morning. I, being an idiot, couldn’t figure out what was wrong and had to pointedly ask over lunch.

My comment was referring to my fruitless quest to find a salwar kameez with pockets during my semester in Jaipur back in 2004. I spent four months in India looking for a place to put my cash. I was trying to make a joke. I failed. To my friend, it wasn’t just not funny. It was insulting to him, to his mom, his sister, and every Indian woman, so about 500,000,000 people. Not my best moment.

I share this memory in defense of Trevor Noah, the South African comedian who will be taking over for Jon Stewart on the Daily Show. He’s gotten a lot criticism for some unfunny and unoriginal tweets about people who are overweight and Jewish. I’m still a Trevor Noah fan. Good people can be insensitive and thoughtless. These people learn from their offenses, and these offenses can be pretty glaring when moving between cultures.

Different cultures have different prejudices and sensitivities. I’ve not been to South Africa but I wonder if they have the same level of sensitivity to weight related jokes that exists (only recently) in the US. Brazil doesn’t. I don’t believe any of Noah’s tweets would raise an eyebrow in Brazil.

The truth is I’ve never been to a country that was not rampant with prejudices. Every culture has groups of people that it marginalizes, fears, or has very little contact with and thus, no sensitivity to. To make my point, here’s a global tour of prejudices I’ve encountered around the world. And since people can be the worst with all our many, many prejudices, I’ll just focus on race for now.

I once spent a summer in rural Croatia. It is the whitest place have ever been. It’s like a town populated exclusively by the audience of the Country Music Awards, except with a better grasp of geography. When I mentioned to my homestay sister that it was weird for me to be in a place with no people of any color except white, she cheerfully informed me, “Oh no, there’s one African. He plays for our soccer team. They brought him here because those people are really good at soccer.” I was also told that throwing bananas during games is just a joke. It’s all in good fun.

Morocco was the first place I discovered the product Fair and Lovely. After repeated applications, this cream will lighten the complexion of any young woman and save her from the bad husband and unhappy life resulting from dark skin. I was so horrified by it, I couldn’t bring myself to buy it as a joke. In Morocco I also learned about the two Africas. A fellow student in my program had shown me how to wrap my hair up in a scarf, and I sported the look almost daily for awhile. Eventually, my homestay mom said I should try a different style because my style was how “African women” wrapped their hair. I was momentarily confused because Morocco is in Africa, but of course she meant Sub-Saharan Africa. Black Africa. Not Arab Africa. Even in Africa you can’t be black.

India, unfortunately, also had Fair and Lovely and it was running a truly spectacular commercial. A girl, in her early teens, is on the couch watching a cricket match, pretending to call the plays into a hairbrush. Her mom appears and lovingly embraces her daughter while handing her a tube of Fair and Lovely. The girl diligently applies the cream to her face before bed. Leap to the future and a young woman with skin several shades lighter is taking her place in the announcer’s booth at a cricket match. She’s smiling, loving life, and so thankful her lightened skin has helped her get a job as a radio announcer.

White skin is also a prized commodity in Brazil. Well maybe not “white” skin, not with all the beaches and lack of clothing, but blond hair and blue eyes are prized possessions. Almost every Brazilian who sees my daughter for the first exclaims over her blue eyes. The teachers and staff at school affectionately call her “Blondie”. The staff of the preschool is almost entirely dark skinned and the students are almost entirely white.

Brazil does have very strict hate speech laws which make racist remarks a crime, and I think they do limit the amount of explicit comments directed at Afro-Brazilians. The law does not, however, seem to protect gays or anyone from the continent of Asia. If there’s a gay joke your local PC police are holding you back from, come to Vitoria, Brazil. You’ll get a hearty laugh because here men know there is nothing worse than being gay. Do you think pulling down the corners of your eyes when talking about Japan is absolutely hilarious? So do a lot of people in Brazil. Here’s a commercial for the fast food chain China in Box. Please, watch it and tell me in the comments if your mouth dropped open too.

I used to teach high school here in Vitoria, and I’ve had to stop my classes more than once to say, “Never, never do that thing with your eyes in my class.” Some students then helpfully explain that the gesture is not racist in Brazil, and Americans are too sensitive about race. I’ve heard the sentiment many times. “Americans are too sensitive about race.” Also, “Americans have a real problem with racism.” Americans are very sensitive racists.

The truth is we’re all a little bit racist or homophobic or Islamophobic. Every person has prejudices and every culture has groups it doesn’t encourage empathy with. My students here have had little to no contact with anyone from anywhere in Asia. The jokes they make reflect this. I think the solution is asking the students, asking ourselves, to consider the other group’s perspective. In short, empathy.

I know, I know. Actively respecting other people’s feelings requires thinking and we’re all so busy. It may also require us to apologize when we fail to do that thinking and offend someone, and apologizing is the worst! It implies we’re not right all the time! I also understand the temptation to blame whoever for being overly sensitive. Then we don’t have to feel guilty for hurting someone. I hate feeling guilty. It’s such a downer. Speaking of downers, we are all going to have to drop some jokes about Latinos, women, gays, foreigners, the disabled, the indigent, Catholics, Muslims…oh my god, is it even possible to be funny while respecting others? Yes, it is.

And I think Trevor Noah will learn from his mistake. I learned from mine that morning in Paris and the many more I’ve made since. Empathy requires more energy than indifference, but the result, a kinder world for all, seems worth the effort.

April 6, 2015
I enjoy comics, therefore I am a geek. I think.

I admit it. I had X-men comics as a kid.

A couple weeks ago as I was skimming the Internet, I saw the latest Avengers: Age of Ultron trailer. I saw it five times in a row. When I discovered in the comment stream that the movie opens on April 23 here in Brazil, a full week earlier than in the US, I squealed for joy.

Last Friday, I was browsing books on Amazon and it recommended the fourth compilation of the Saga series. I hadn’t even realized it was out! I gave thanks to the omniscient Amazon gods and ordered it immediately.

This week I’m putting the final touches on the second draft of my 216 page graphic novel.

I can no longer hide from the truth. I am a geek.

I suppose I’ve always known on some level, although I’ve repressed it for decades. My brother is a gamer and has actually attended a Dragoncon, so I think it might be genetic. I definitely don’t think it was anything my parents or society did. I grew up in an upper-middle class suburb outside of Atlanta in a congressional district that doesn’t even have a Democratic party office. There were club sports, sleepovers, and more churches than gas stations. I had everything necessary to be totally mainstream. Yet, my absolute favorite cartoons growing up were X-men and Batman. I watched reruns of Batman every day after school long after I knew I couldn’t admit it at my lunch table.

I was very confused. I liked X-men comics, but I also made top grades, was elected to student council, and played varsity sports. I didn’t have trouble making friends or shopping at the Gap. It was made clear, by people on both sides of the line, that people who liked comics and superheroes didn’t do those kinds of things. Also, I have a vagina, so I couldn’t possibly be a comics fan. I was assigned a side, which I’ve stuck with until now.

And there are most definitely sides. I’ve done my research, and the internet divides people into two distinct camps: geeks and non-geeks.

Geeks like comic. They also enjoy animé, very elaborate games that require an entirely new language of acronyms like MUDs, ADnD, and MMORPGs, dressing as characters from their favorite comic/movie/tv show/video game, and toys. Lots of toys. When not cosplaying, geeks also enjoy wearing cotton tshirts with witty quotes or logos proudly promoting their geekhood.

Non-geeks enjoy the outdoors, Starbucks, Top Gear, and yogurt. They frequently wear cotton tshirts with logos promoting their favorite sports team and/or player. They believe books with pictures are for children and adults only read celebrity cookbooks, Literature (with a capitol L), or war memoirs. When not wearing their team colors, they are wearing Old Navy or J. Crew depending on income.

Since high school, I have been living my life as a non-geek. I love Starbucks and my reading time has been devoted to Capitol-L authors such as Jhumpa Lahiri, Barbara Kingsolver, Margaret Atwood, and Toni Morrison. Then some time in my mid-20s, I came across a list of the “100 greates books of the 20th century.” I don’t remember who created the list. I think it was Times or maybe a freshman English major at Berkley. Either way, I know the list included Watchmen by Alan Moore, illustrated by Dave Gibbons. I was intrigued. How did this comic, masquerading as a novel, end up on a list of “Greatest Books”? The contradiction was there in the title, Greatest Books. This list put a comic alongside Hemingway and Alice Walker.

I was aware of the term graphic novel but didn’t understand it until I read Watchmen. Then for Christmas my brother gave me Y: The Last Man and 100 Bullets. Another year, a cousin gave me American Born Chinese. I discovered Fun Home was named the best book of 2006 by Time. Then one day I looked at my bookshelf and discovered a row of graphic novels, what my non-geek kind still refer to as comic books. I had a shelf full of comic books!

What can I say? I’m sucker for a good story. Combine memorable and complex characters with good writing and you’ve got me, even if the story is told in illustrated panels. American Born Chinese is one of the most elegant pieces of story telling I’ve ever read, and it’s a graphic novel for young adults.

I guess that makes me a geek, but I’m a little worried about what coming out as geek means. Geeks seem to make being a geek such a huge part of their identity; I’m afraid about half-assing the role. Can I love the Avengers movies without understanding the difference between The Avengers, The Mighty Avengers, and Avengers Assemble? Because I’m really busy and just don’t have the time to figure that out. Do I have to be willing to stand in line for two hours for an autograph from a Star Trek cast member? Because frankly there’s nothing short of life saving necessities that I would stand in line for two hours to get. Although I admire the passion. And the patience. I could use more of both.

Oh, and about the costumes…they look wondrous but also super impractical. If I’m going to walk miles around a conference hall filled with 100,000 people, I’d prefer something breathable. Is there a character I could portray in linen pants and a pair of Toms? No? Well, maybe I’ll write one. As soon as this non-geek geek gets her first graphic novel sold. But that’s a post for next week.

March 30, 2015
What Would Jesus Do?

Recently I finished unpacking after moving into my apartment three and a half years ago. Why the delay? I simply didn’t care enough to discover where the dessert bowls were. Caring requires a crucial combination of both time and energy that I haven’t had since my daughter came home from the hospital.

After a month of being abandoned every night in the NICU, she arrived home with severe separation anxiety. I have not had a full night’s in over three years. In the initial tortuous months, I was able to care about ten things:

1. Feed baby.

2. Clean baby.

3. Make sure baby sleeps.

4. Try to sleep while baby does.

5. Feed myself.

6. Provide age appropriate stimulation for the baby.

7. Get dressed and take baby for a walk.

8. Acknowledge my husband’s presence.

9. Brush my teeth.

10. Take a shower.

For the first seven months, I consistently managed numbers 1 through 8. Then I went back to work, showering moved up among my priorities, and preparing classes got added to the list. Unpacking the DVDs, staying up on current events, making intelligent conversation were not things I cared about at all. Caring takes energy and with so little sleep, my energy became a commodity more precious than clean water in Sao Paulo. It was awful. It was also the most liberating experience of my life.

A nice outfit. A good hair day. Makeup. Staples of my leaving-the-house routine. I stopped caring about them all. My routine was reduced to shower, brush teeth, brush hair, use deodorant (I remembered it most days), a comfortable shirt, jeans, and flat shoes. I had enough energy to be clean, dressed, and present wherever I was required. Nothing more.

Then it dawned on me who’s routine I had adopted: my husband’s.

With my new routine, I was living life like a man. No makeup. No blowdryers or straighteners or curling irons. No time spent over earrings, necklaces, and bracelets. Only flat shoes that make stairs merely good exercise and not treacherous. Holy crap!!! This is how men go through the world. No wonder they still run everything. They’re wearing shoes that actually allow them to run.

My husband goes out in the world with visible bags under eyes when he doesn’t sleep and he is still wildly successful with many people who want to work with him. He doesn’t dye his hair and he still has friends. He regularly puts his t-shirts on backwards and his family still loves him.

Why the hell can’t I have it so easy?

Turns out I can. It was during this time when I regularly forgot to brush my teeth until after lunch, that I met and made my three best friends in Vitoria. I had great relationships with my boss and colleagues and earned more responsibility at work. My husband didn’t leave me when I kept my hair in a ponytail for three months straight. My new friends didn’t stop calling when I went six months without putting in a pair of earrings. My fellow teachers didn’t ignore me because I recycled the same five tops every week.

I hope with all of my heart that I can teach these lessons to my daughter. If she is honest, respectful, hard working, and fair, she will be successful personally and professionally. That’s all she needs. High school might be a bitch, but her life will be a success.

I believe the best way I can teach her these lessons is to apply them to myself. Now when staring in the bathroom mirror, I ask myself a question I haven’t since trying to fit in at my public high school in Georgia. What would Jesus do?

As a man, would Jesus arrive five minutes late because he had to pluck his eyebrows? Would Jesus wear the super cute shoes even though they’ll give him a blister on the walk to daycare? Would Jesus wear eyeliner to a pool party?

I wish I could say I’ve been hardcore enough to ask if Jesus would shave his pits but I haven’t and don’t plan to. I admit I apply my new philosophy somewhat selectively. I guess I’m not perfect. But I don’t have the energy to care.

February 16, 2015