After writing the midterm on Thursday night I left class frustrated and in need of a strong Vodka Paralyzer and the company of a good friend to drown my exaggerated sorrows. In the midst of this little pity party I began to contemplate my discontent for failing to answer each exam question correctly or understanding every concept perfectly. After my third Paralyzer, my academic predicament unfolded and I came to realize my obsession with a cultural “model of perfection” (Baudrillard, 8). Baudrillard’s Illusion of the End discusses this phenomenon as a process of neutralization in which the individual becomes a member of the “silent masses,” failing to contemplate the significance of the information presented. On Thursday night I became a member of this silent majority. Regardless of the fact the material discussed in Women’s Studies 320 has provided me the tools to re-examine and challenge my own understanding of identity politics and the social framework within which I exist, I failed to abandon my “strong desire to anticipate the end” and therefore, my primary concern became obtaining that perfectly-packaged 4.0 (Baudrillard, 7).Call me crazy, call Dr. Phil or his Freudian sidekicks but it pisses me off when I don’t do well! I just can’t brush it off and say “better luck next time,” to me there is no next time (my mother always said I was a bit dramatic)! I become consumed with my failure to live up to standards set not only by myself, but by dominant capitalist ideals, and the Pharmacy schools to which I will be applying this spring. I view my subjectivity as stagnant and forever defined by my inability to be an example of successful and independent femininity. My conformity to this repressive social identity strengthen the “chains that bind” me within my “own mind and spirit” and perpetuate the belief that I possess little intellectual and cultural value (Friedan, 30). I plant my feet firmly on the path of temporary self destruction and begin picturing myself at thirty, with five children and minivan, concerned only with how to buy a “dishwasher, bake bread, cook gourmet snails…how to dress, how to look and act more feminine and make marriage more exciting,” rather than contemplating both the science and feminist theory that truly excites me (Friedan, 15). In this state of perpetual foolishness the future is analyzed from a position of complete pessimism and no matter how often I tell myself “No ones perfect” I can’t seem to abandon the discourse that tells me otherwise. I think I need another drink!
Kelly Mac.
Baudrillard, Jean. The Illusion of the End. pp 1-8.
Friedan, Betty. The Feminine Mystique. Norton: NY, 1963. pp 15-32.
Kelly Mac.
Baudrillard, Jean. The Illusion of the End. pp 1-8.
Friedan, Betty. The Feminine Mystique. Norton: NY, 1963. pp 15-32.
2 comments:
Amen to that sister!
I leave all exams feeling like I probably shouldn't have bothered. I am not good enough, not smart enough, not capable enough and, most importantly, not a good enough woman or feminist. And no matter how hard I try to silence that little voice in the back of my head, after exams, it screams "forget grad school, you can't cut it. Give up. Take the out and just have a kid." But on top of feeling like a total failure myself, my mother IS the woman who gave up, had five children, drives a minivan, and worries about which dishwasher to purchase - and she has a medical degree. It brings new meaning to the term Dr. Mom. So there's also that hanging over my head (I cringe every time I hear, "you're so much like your mother", which happens far more often than I would like).
But, ranting aside, I think the idea of a discourse of human perfection is fascinating. Baudrillard proposes a vanishing point of music and history wherein the thing itself is perfected out of existence. So can there be a vanishing point of the subject? Can we perfect our own subjectivity to the point that we no longer exist? This may sound a bit Dr. Phil-esque, but if I rid myself of all my idiosyncracies, all my secret fears, desires, embarrassing short-comings, and type-A neuroses, at what point do I stop being me? Perhaps it is all of these rough-edges that ultimately define the subject. Without them, we are reduced to - perfection, and then... poof! We’re gone!
Yep exam time can be stressful, and I'm pretty sure most students go into their exams with the mindset "oh please oh please let me do well on this test so that I can get into grad school, get into med school, etc." I too am definately guilty of being obsessed with that "model of perfection" that comes from being bombarded with societal standards and the pressures to meet them. If you look around at your fellow stressed out students during this time of year, it becomes obvious just how neutralized we have all become. School bombards us with so much information and so many expectations, that we have no time to critically consider or think about any of it. Is it like Baudrillard says, that we have no control over this marching forward of the loss of history and the move toward perfection? Would it make a difference if all students protested and refused to write their exams or demanded an overhaul of the school system so that our 'models of perfection' were no longer based on grades but maybe on our ability to show that we were critically thinking about the things we were learning about and applying them to our daily activities? It scares me to think that I am just allowing this to happen because i'm too bogged down with my busy schedule and my desire to get into grad school to change it....
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