Wednesday, December 8, 2010

The Tragedy Pimp

In her piece, "Reigning in the Court of Silence: Women and Rhetorical Space in Postbellum America," Nan Johnson argues that rhetorical space has routinely and systematically excluded women, relegating them to the quiet private space in the home.  One of the works she cites is Rose Terry Cooke's "Real Rights of Women" and her identification of the "freedom shriekers who forget their position and their womanhood, who leave their families neglected and their homes forsaken to rant on platforms and usurp pulpits," as one of the most detrimental images of American women as public speakers.  She writes, "Cooke's image of 'shriekers' and 'ranters' is a damning one that constructs the public rhetorical performance as an act near to madness and one that compromises the efforts of sensible women to move forward."  The vocal woman, in Cooke's view, threatens not only her male counterparts but also the advancement and progress of other women acting within societally acceptable rhetorical limits.

One would think that at this time, women have the freedom to voice their opinions without fear of hinging on madness in the public perception.  The images that conservative political commentators Bill O'Reilly and Glenn Beck paint of left-wing anti-war activist Cindy Sheehan, however, would indicate otherwise, revealing the extent to which rhetorical space is still exclusive and very much gendered.  In 2004, Sheehan began her peace campaign against the unjust war in Iraq that cost her son, Casey's, life.  Among her antiwar efforts included letters to the president, speeches at protests and rallies, and even a camp-out--dubbed Camp Casey--outside of then-President Bush's property in Crawford, Texas.

Beck and O'Reilly have torn Sheehan apart, aggressively attacking her as insincere and insane.  On the January 4 broadcast of his radio show, O'Reilly stated the "fact" that Sheehan was being "run by far-left elements who are using her, and she's dumb enough to allow it to happen."  On the January 10 broadcast of his show, The Glenn Beck Program, Beck labeled Cindy Sheehan "A pretty big prostitute" and later "a tragedy pimp" because of what he perceives as her vocal use of her son's death to gain fame and money.  On a later segment, Beck even called her "shockingly naive, dangerously crazy, or more likely both."

What is so striking is the smearing suspicion and disbelief that Sheehan could be legitimate in her protests.  By automatically resorting to familiar images of the naive grieving mother, the attention-hungry tragedy pimp, or the insane shrieker, commentators like O'Reilly and Beck undermine Sheehan's oratorical performances and message.  It is crazy, even treasonous, they posit, that this military mother has spoken out against the war, an act they say is inappropriate and disrespectful.  In doing so, they restrict Sheehan's rhetorical space and legitimacy, ultimately attempting to squeeze her actual words out of the picture by questioning instead her sanity and her patriotism.

One step further: many of Sheehan's critics point to her as a bad mother, reinforcing the lack of faith "that a woman could minister to the home and the public affairs of the nation at the same time" (Johnson, 234).  Johnson cites Reverend Potts and his fear that women who "seek rhetorical power outside the home...will lose it in the home" leading to the implosion of the home and the moral destruction of the nation.  Put another way, in Potts's view, women cannot be effective mothers and wives and public speakers at the same time.  Critics of Sheehan have certainly adopted this line of thinking to undermine her rhetoric.   Critics pointed first at Sheehan's hysteria as a "stereotypical mother" but then began to criticize her for being a bad mother by neglecting the rest of her kids and disrespecting the death of her son Casey.  One poll for the "World's Crappiest Mother" succinctly summarizes much of this criticism by condemning her for "exploiting one dead kid, [being] too cheap busy to buy a headstone, [and for] abandoning her other kids."

In the case of Cindy Sheehan, her role as a woman and as a mother seem to matter more to her critics than what she was actually saying.  Perhaps we haven't come as far as we hope in regards to granting women the freedom to be vocal about their views. 

Here's a snippet of Beck on Sheehan.

Loraux, Funeral Orations, and Military Funerals

In her book, Mothers in Mourning, Nicole Loraux theorized--and successfully so--that the separation from mourning (threnos) from funeral orations (epitaphios logos) in Athenian funeral ceremonies constituted the gendered invention of the political through the exclusion of women and the oppositional definition of the public (polis) and the private (oikos).

Bringing her study of Athenian funeral rituals and the gendered nature of the public sphere and nationalism to the present day, we have contemporary American military funerals as a case study.  The tradition at such occasions consists of a funeral oration followed by the ceremonial folding of the American flag and its presentation to the mother or wife of the fallen soldier.  What is particularly striking and what makes Loraux's work so relevant in this case study is the presentation of the flag--the symbol of the nation--to the mother.  Essentially, the sacrifice (the death of the soldier, the contribution to the nation) as symbolized by the flag becomes the mother's to bear.


Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Moms in the Military




(images courtesy of http://www.theodoresworld.net)

Matriots vs. Mama Grizzlies!

Using similar rhetorical strategies, grieving-mother-turned-anti-war activist Cindy Sheehan and former vice-presidential candidate Sarah Palin, both call to arms the moms of the America, coining new terms for their maternal armies--Matriots for Sheehan and Mama Grizzlies for Palin.

In 2006 article entitled "Matriotism" for the Huffington Post, Sheehan declares, "Matriotism is the opposite of patriotism...not to destroy it, but to be a yin to its yang, and balance out the militarism of patriotism" and explores, "a new paradigm for true and lasting peace in the world."  In protest of the war that cost her son his life, Sheehan has been vocal about her opposition to the war, but her neoligistic Matriot is a curious pormanteau word that combines the qualities of maternity and patriotism--love and care for one's children and love and care for one's country.

Interestingly, Sheehan does not restrict Matriotism specifically to mothers or even women.  She writes, "Not everyone is a mother, but there is one universal truth that no one can dispute no matter how hard they try (and believe me, some will try): Everyone has a mother!  Mothers give life, and if the child is lucky, mothers nurture life.  And if a man has had a nurturing mother he will already have a base of Matriotism."  The effect of this conclusion--reasoning notwithstanding--is the transcendence of sex in the elevation of Matriotism from strictly mothers to a larger social and political identity.  That is, Matriotism is not unique to mothers, but rather, it constitutes a sentiment that runs through the general populace, or at least those with nurturing mothers.  This reminds us of the Redemptive Mother of Garner and Slattery's study on the mass media depiction of mothers during wartime.  Thus, it is the civic duty of the mother to instill in her children a healthy dose of Matriotism.

Sheehan's Matriotist rhetoric is strikingly similar to Palin's rhetoric regarding her Mama Grizzlies in their reference to the role of mothers and their responsibility to stand up for their children.  Sheehan writes, "There is one most important thing that matriots would never do, however, and this is the key to stopping killing to solve problems: a matriot would never send her child or another mother's child to fight nonsense wars...and she would march into a war that she considered just to protect her child from harm."  This seems a lot like Palin's invocation of the image of mother grizzly bears in Alaska.  She says in her ad for SarahPAC, "Here in Alaska, I always think of the mama grizzly bears that rise up on their hind legs when somebody's comin' to attack their cubs, to do something adverse toward their cubs.  Ya thought pit bulls were tough!  Well, ya don't wanna mess with the mama grizzlies."  Both Sheehan and Palin iconically reference the potentially militant and aggressive nature of Matriots and Mama Grizzlies to galvanize mothers across the country in support of their political agendas--anti-war efforts on Sheehan's end and support for the Tea Party on Palin's.  For both, the Matriots and the Mama Grizzlies constitute a new paradigm in thinking: common sense conservatism for Palin and peaceful patriotism for Sheehan.

In effect, we have invocations of similar images as well as similar rhetorical strategies in the new developments of the role of mothers in American.

Here Palin's ad!

Restoring Honor, Restoring Motherhood!

Former vice-presidential candidate Sarah Palin, of political and pop culture fame, spoke at Glenn Beck's "Restoring Honor" Rally in Washington, D.C.  She spoke "not as a politician" but "as something more - something much more...the mother of a soldier." In her distinction between her two identities, politician and mother of a vet, Palin reinforces the separation between motherhood and the political sphere and the gendered qualities of rhetorical space in America.

She says, "I've been asked to speak as the mother of a soldier, and I am proud of that distinction.  You know, say what you want to say about me, but I raised a combat vet, and you can't take that away from me.  I'm proud of that distinction, but it is not one that I had imagined because no woman gives birth thinking that she will hand over her child to her country, but that's what mothers have done from ancient days."

In effect, because she raised a vet herself, she is untouchable in her patriotism and her motherhood, which ironically reminds us of Cindy Sheehen's matriotism.  Implicit is that politics cannot affect her role and identity as a patriotic mother, that the realm of the mother (the private, the oikos) is distinguishable and mutually exclusive from the political realm (the public, the polis).  Watch the clip and notice how Palin's motherhood legitimizes her speech about honor and her Americanism.  Also, notice how it legitimizes her telling of these soldiers stories.  It's almost as if the honor of the soldier becomes the mother's to bear, much in the same way that the American flag from a military funeral is given to the wife or mother of the fallen.



See The Sarah Palin Blog for a full video and transcript of Palin's speech.

Good Mother, Bad Mother?

"How do the national news media depict mothers of United States combat soldiers in stories related to the Iraq War?"  In 2007, Marquette University professors Karen Slattery and Ana C. Garner asked this question in their study, "Mothers of Soldiers in Wartime: A National News Narrative," in Critical Studies in Media Communication (Vol. 24, No. 5).

In the study, they analyze the messages and images of the mother during wartime as portrayed in the mass media.  They identify three archetypes of the American mother: the "good mother" who is "selfless, protective, and caring"; the "bad mother" who "willingly harms her own child or allows her child to be harmed"; and the "patriotic mother" who is "stoic silent, and brave in the face of war."  How do we make sense of the underlying paradox that to be a patriotic mother requires one to be a bad mother and allow her children to risk harm and death?

In the theoretical grounding of the private sphere in their study, Garner and Slattery cite Ruddick's (1989) concept of maternal thinking as "a specific type of moral and political reasoning that derives from experience in caring for the young physically, emotionally, and socially and in the ways that humans interact and engage one another."  Maternal thinking is not restricted to biological mothers or even just women, but it constitutes a particular logic that informs society, morals, and politics.  They also cite Gilligan's (1977) "ethic of care, a moral philosophy that rests on human connectedness" and that "is grounded in love, respect, and responsibility" in contrast to the "ethic of justice, a moral philosophy that emphasizes individualism, separation, and autonomy."  As Gilligan argues, the ethic of justice predominates the public sphere while the ethic of care predominates the private sphere.

In their analysis of the public sphere, the authors identify specific maternal tropes: the Republican Mother who fulfills her civic duties by staying inside the home and instilling civic virtues in her children and the Redemptive Mother who nurturs not just her family's civic life but also the moral health and civic well-being of the nation.  The rise of the Redemptive Mother, the authors say, marks the point at which "we begin to see mothers' political positions made public vis-a-vis war and their sons' involvement in the conflict."

Mass-mediated images of the mother during wartime have pervaded American society and culture, especially in times of war (e.g. the "good mother" during the drafts of the World Wars).  What Garner and Slattery found in their study, however, was that the pervasive image of the mother during wartime, while "grounded in the notion of the archetypal good mother," changed from that of the stoically and silently supportive mother to that of the mother who could support her son or daughter but still voice her opinions on the war.  While the viability of mothers to voice their opinions of the war is debatable (consider Cindy Sheehan), media depictions of such vocal mothers has surely increased.  Garner and Slattery explain that this may be due to three factors: (1) the government has less actively silenced opposition to the war, (2) emerging technology and new media make it easier to publicize a diversity of opinions without the endorsement of the mainstream media, and (3) journalistic practices have changed over the course of the century.

More interesting than these conclusions, however, are the questions that arise from this study's findings.  Namely, how has the rhetoric of mothers in support of war and in opposition to war changed through the course of the century?  In response to the last war, we've heard Angela Lashley's "So Brave" as well as Cindy Sheehan's passionate speeches.  With the aid of new media like youtube and twitter, it has become more difficult to streamline and censor voices, and the concept of motherhood has been thrown back and forth as both approval and criticism of such voices.  For example, Lashley criticized Sheehan for embarrassing military mothers everywhere while Sheehan herself has defended that she is simply acting as a mother for all of our children by protecting them from dying in an unjust war (see Karen Houppert's article in The Nation).  Both have identified themselves as representatives for the unheard, for the voices normally silent.  Do they actually represent new iterations of the wartime mother tropes or are we now simply hearing the rhetoric that has existed for centuries?

The Military Mother's Anthem

Angela Lashley, a singer-songwriter out of Nashville, co-wrote and recorded "So Brave" with Grammy-nominated musician Byron House in honor of her son, Jonathan, a member of the U.S. Army in the 82nd Airborne Division.  Inspired by a question Lashley asked her husband the day Jonathan joined the service--"When did he become so brave"--the song has become what the media has described as "The Military Mom's Anthem."  Intertwining anecdotes of her son's bravery and determination through the years and her own feelings of pride and sadness, "So Brave" has found a strong following among military families.

The mainstream media, however, has been less enthusiastic in its praise.  In a 2007 interview with Tom Kovach of WorldNetDaily.com, she explains, "Some in the media have shut out the story of this song, which comes from a military mother's mouth, because it has a positive angle.  The 'mainstream' ignores the unheard majority.  If this was a protest song, it would be all over the airwaves."

In an interesting twist, she goes on to distinguish herself from another military mother, Cindy Sheehan, who has become the vocal figurehead of the anti-war movement.  Lashley explains, "The song originally had no political tones.  But, it has become political, because of 'the infamous mother,' who has embarrassed so many of us military mothers.  In contrast, there is a vast 'unheard majority' that I represent.  I've become 'an activist for the non-activists.'  And, as if we don't have enough to worry about with our children in war zones, mothers nationwide have told me of their concern about mistreatment of soldiers because of others in the media." 

It's interesting that Lashley fulfills her role as "activist for the non-activists" through song and not through speeches or demonstrations, bringing into question the appropriations of oratorical space according to gender and motherhood and bringing to life the work of Nicole Loraux (Mothers in Mourning) and Susan Faludi (The Terror Dream: Fear and Fantasy in Post 9/11 America).  Oppositionally, Lashley's song is the non-political foil to Sheehan's politically charged anti-war speeches, the emotion-packed threnos to the logical epitaphios logos, the appropriate behavior of a military mom to Sheehan's inappropriate actions, the embodiment of the private (oikos) and the public/political (polis).  Lashley fulfills her role of the "good military mother" by bearing her grief, shouldering her sacrifice to her country, and finding pride and patriotism in the deployment of her son.

(photo courtesy of the Lashley family and WorldNetDaily.com, 2007)


"So Brave" (See this site for the lyrics)

I remember when you learned to walk
I remember when you learned to talk
But I, can't remember when, you learned to be so brave.
That time you stood up for a little guy,
Took on the bully at school, twice your size;
Was it then, do I remember when, you learned to be so brave.
If you ship out in September
Will my Christmas wish bring you home by December?
I'll be thinkin' of you and I'll remember...
There was a puppy love you gave a valentine,
A broken heart that wouldn’t cry;
Was it then, do I remember when, you learned to be so brave.
When you ship out in September,
I won’t even know where you've gone.
I'll have to be so brave in December
If my Christmas wish don’t get you home.
Your courage came so young and tender
Thinkin' back now I remember...
So brave ...
The year you made the team and practiced everyday.
Hurt yourself and never got to play;
Maybe then, do I remember when, you learned to be so brave...
If you ship out in September
Will my Christmas wish bring you home by December?
I'll be thinkin' of you, son, I'll remember
How you learned to be so brave.
So brave...