Yesterday I commented on my friend’s site, and her response to me touched on two of my favorite topics: entertainment and language. She and I will never see eye-to-eye on most subjects. What I like about her blog is her compassion, her sincerity and her skill.
She wrote about a boycott/protest some people were organizing on Facebook against the film “The Change Up.” According to the person organizing the protest, a character in the film uses the word “retarded” and suggests that a child looks “kinda Downsy.” My blogger friend has a daughter with Down Syndrome and takes these slurs personally. Here is my comment on her blog (edited for typos because I’m not using a stupid touch screen here)
“The problem with criticizing and condemning something you haven’t seen is that words are taken out of context and divorced from their intentions. Ryan Reynolds’ character in this film is despicable and ignorant and this line is meant to make him unsympathetic and hateful. The filmmakers are not promoting this kind of slur, they are ridiculing the kind of people who make it. I think it’s great that you want to educate and spread compassion, but I think your disgust is misplaced here.”
She responded that she doesn’t agree. Then she proposed that Hollywood (or “Hollyweird” as she puts it) has dumbed down our language and asked if I experienced that as a teacher.
I do see the deplorable denigration of the English language, but I don’t know if movies and television have caused it, or if they reflect it. It’s the age-old debate: does art imitate life, or does life imitate art? When it comes to language, I think that it flows both ways.
To answer her specific question about what I see as an educator, I think music has more influence than television or film. I’ve had the disconcerting experience of students who have been in the country for only a few weeks calling each other “dawg” and imploring me to “chill.” They constantly have earbuds either in their ears, or the new fashion, dangling off the top of their ears like jewelry. Music is everything to teenagers, especially boys who aren’t allowed to emote publicly.
I think films have people use words like “faggot” and “retard” because that’s the way people really talk. If you want your movie to have a ring of truth to it, then people have to use language that’s real. The hip-hop-ification of language would have me say the filmmakers of “The Change Up” are just “keeping it real, yo.” I cannot dismiss the counterclaim that people may use such words because they saw them in a movie. Or that it is hurtful to the special needs community to hear a theater full of people laugh heartily at the word “retard.” If we can stop people from using the word in life, then we will no longer see it in entertainment, because it WON’T be the way people talk. Just like we got rid of the word mongoloid.
Kids learn their values from their parents. They test those values with the things they learn from their friends and in entertainment, but if the parents have instilled a solid core, it generally stays intact. Nothing has more influence on the education of a child than the parents. My husband and I are going to make sure our daughters learn, so they could have the most “does not meet standards” teachers in the profession and they will still get great educations. I watched movies and tv shows all my life where kids and teenagers talked back to and disrespected adults, but I never did those things. I was not raised that way. I knew the difference between tv and life. My father also works in television, so Hollywood put me through college, and I’m grateful. The fact is, parents don’t read. They don’t value language. Reading is “gay,” especially for boys. No one writes anything anymore. Plagiarism is the rule, not the exception. Our entire culture is anti-intellectual. People prefer a president whom they can sit and have a beer with rather than one who is smarter than they are. “Ivy League Elite” is an INSULT, not a compliment. The world’s done turned upside down.
I think we’ve made progress if the best way to make us hate a character is to have him be cruel to a child. It says that cruelty to children is unacceptable. Only a real jerk would call someone a “retard.” And if it’s offensive, then I fully support people’s right to boycott. But someone in the group organizing the boycott should at least read the script. It gives authority to the protest. “I think that’s wrong, but I haven’t seen it” isn’t a weighty argument.
The Friendly Pedant by Mrs. Odie 
Sleeping baby, restless mind
Everyone is asleep. It’s 7:30 on Saturday morning and I’m sitting on my couch with my coffee (nonfat milk and Truvia) listening to the whirring sound of Pringles’ swing. All night long she has been grunting and moaning. She did the previous night too. Tiny babies and their tummies give new parents all sorts of woe.
My mind was industrious last night during feedings and soothings. I have some terrible back pain so I couldn’t get comfortable even when Pringles settled for one to two hours at a time. Motrin helped the pain, but my mind kept going.
The Bloom Project, renamed Flourish, has not manifested completely as planned. You can read about it by clicking on the tag “TBP” or “The Bloom Project” here on my site. The diet Odie and I are on is a big part of it. A new blogger I’m following wrote about how she doesn’t believe in dieting except in the short-term (for special events, she means). Weight loss maintenance eating is a way of life. I totally agree with her. She is very thin, eats well, and works out all the time. How much do we hate her? I don’t have the exact measurement, but it’s a lot.
I weigh myself daily and nothing anyone says is going to make me stop. It’s a compulsion. Dr. Moreno, who wrote The 17 Day Diet, is the first authority who has ever supported this practice, that I’m aware of. People who don’t weigh themselves are more likely to gain weight because they don’t pay attention to their weight (whether it’s through forceful denial or not, we don’t know). That is my experience. In my teens and twenties, the number on the scale in the morning determined whether I would have a good day or a bad day. Whether I rewarded myself or punished myself. Whether I was a worthy human being or a fat pile of shit. Presently, it just gives me information and I do not have a strong emotional reaction to it. Yesterday, the scale registered a one pound gain, even though I followed my diet.
It hurt a bit. I won’t lie.
Whereas 29 year-old me would have thrown herself onto the bathroom floor in tears and then either starved or binged all day, 39 year-old me went, “Huh. What do you know? Well, whatever.” I suspect that I might be eating too few calories, and my breastfeeding body which has a baby to sustain is going “Wait a minute here. We need to start conserving.”
In any event, it was an EXCELLENT excuse to munch on some tortilla chips and queso dip while pacing the living room with Pringles in the sling and watching Project Runway on DVR.
And I was right. I think.
Don’t tell Odie I “cheated.” I tried to talk him into us giving up the diet together and doing something reasonable like Weight Watchers, or even skipping to Phase 3 of this diet which is all about portion control, not about eliminating any foods. He obstinately refused. What choice did I have but secret rebellion behind his back? Whether I stay on this restrictive diet or not remains to be seen.
What I will take away from it is the emphasis on fresh produce, particularly vegetables. Unfortunately, our grocery bill has jumped considerably. For the first time, I understand that it is expensive to eat healthfully, especially if you go for organic produce. I feel that I must, since I am breastfeeding and need to minimize my chemical exposure. Red bell peppers are my favorite vegetable, and those bad boys are pricey! If we ate at fast food restaurants three times a day, we would save so much money. We live in a country where poor people cannot afford to be thin.
So, weight loss is ongoing. That is a huge part of Bloom/Flourish, but so is beautification. I’m average looking/borderline pretty, however I do not take great care of myself. I don’t “beautify.” I almost never wear make-up, shop for new clothes, wipe the baby barf off my shirt, clean my glasses, exfoliate, shave my legs, wear body lotion, etc. I sort of always look like I’m camping.
With an eye to improving in this arena, I have decided to color my hair. I ordered Garnier Herbashine Color Creme in 645 Copper Mahogany Brown. The ad in Us Weekly was a winner for me. This is the hair color I covet. Surprisingly, I don’t have gray hairs yet (not that I see anyway), but my brownish-red color could use some enhancement. When I feel good about my hair, I feel better about myself in general.
I had it in my mind that I would lose weight and get fit, then reward myself with hair coloring. But why wait for my body to be just right in order to fix my hair? Perhaps my shiny copper mane will distract people from my lumpy butt and my Flubber tummy. Besides, losing 58 (now 50) pounds is going to take some serious time. No need to have blah color for all those months when the solution is only seven bucks away. At least, I hope so. This could all be a huge mistake. We shall see!
Bigger goals include yoga and swimming. I also want to learn WordPress.com better to improve my blog. There are four topics I generally cover: teaching, dieting/weight loss, parenting/marriage and entertainment. I’d like to find a way to create different places for those subjects, because I know my readers have different reasons for following my blog. This fall, I plan to embark on something new: The Housewife Project. I get to be a stay-at-home mom for twenty weeks! I blew it last time, barely managing to get myself showered and all my stored-up TV shows watched. This time, I have higher aspirations. Because I get the luxury of staying home with Pringles and sending Viva to day care, I want to create a world where Odie doesn’t have to do any housework when he comes home. He is a stress monster, so I plan to handle all of the home stress. This will be my full-time job. There is much clutter to remove and organization to do, not to mention deep cleaning. And of course, I want to write about it. Not in an annoying DIY way where I post “tips” and charming photos of before and after. Like the internet needs any more of that.
Oh, hey, look! Baby barf! Back to work for me. Enjoy your weekend.
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