Stereotypes Of The Feminists In Markets Sociology Essay

Stereotypes Of The Feminists In Markets Sociology Essay When somebody mentions the word feminism it often sparks stereotypical ridicule surrounding unattractive women who cant get a man, mainly stirred up by subjective political publishing. In reality what was achieved by feminists throughout the 19th, 20th and 21st century has paved the way for a more intellectual and emotional acceptance of women in modern society. When we discuss the subject of feminism we automatically begin to consider the work of radical, Marxist and liberal feminists, but in order to understand the thoughts and feelings of this enlightening subject we must observe the work of not only feminists but other theorists, in an attempt to analyse the changing views of women from the 1960s onwards. The start of the sexual revolution remains prominent within our discussion, and throughout this essay we will refer to academic material in an attempt to educate ourselves on the thoughts and theories of the changing sexuality of women from the first wave of feminism onwards. landmark book the second sex offered women an existential and intellectual framework where by women could break down the barriers of social conditioning and take control of their own lives and sexuality, her famous words one is not born a woman, one becomes one offered an iconic phrase which would help support the movement of the sexual revolution of the 1960s. The sexual politics which took place throughout the 1960s and 1970s cannot be discussed without talking about the highly publicised second wave of feminism. The combination of student protests and medically prescribed contraceptives made it possible for women to own their own sexuality and move away from the confinement of sexual pleasure in the boundaries of a heterosexual marriage (Escoffier, 2003). The previous century has been that of a bourgeois one, where sexuality was held on the strict basis of a heterosexual family (Ollman, 1979). Marxist writer William Reich offered a revolutionary sexual radicalism which argued that capitalism sexually repressed the masses in the interest of its exploitative goals (Ollman, 1979). Betty Friedan (1963) is often referred to as the mother of the movement. When her book the feminine mystique was published in 1963 she discussed the roles of women in industrial societies, whose main aim was to fulfil the stifling role of homemaker; for women these traditional roles were often deemed unsatisfying: emotionally, intellectually and also sexually, as she quoted no woman gets an orgasm from shining the kitchen floor (Womens History, 2011). Betty Friedan (1963) was also noted for criticising Freuds theory known as penis envy along with feminist writer Karen Horney (Hichcock, 2005). Horney describes how it is men who are adversely affected by their inability to bear children, she referred to this as womb envy, and Freud saw Horneys theory as being a striking example of her own personal penis envy (Hitchcock, 2005). Horney and other feminist theorists have gone on to describe Freuds work as condescending and distorted surrounding his opinion of women being inferior to men (Hitchcock, 2005). Many feminist writers gained a high level of interest in the work of Foucault (1978) whose work is highly prevalent when discussing sexuality of the 1970s and power (Hekman, 1996). Foucault (1978) argued that sexuality was regulated and controlled. His theory of the body and sexuality has allowed feminists to appropriate it due to the consequences of drawing a distinction between sex and gender, which allows us to challenge the idea that a womens biological make up is her social destiny (Foucault, 1978). The views of sexuality altered greatly from the 1960s onwards. It was a period of high criticism of the conventional heterosexual practices of sex, and the liberation of gay men and lesbians meant there was a positive control of identity (Escoffier, 2003). The gay liberation challenged the essentialist view of the natural sex, however for many gay and lesbian activists sexual exploration was not the only goal; the importance was recognition for the need to change. Essentialist theori sts argue that sexuality has a reproductive function and how vaginal intercourse is seen as the sex (Duggan, Hunter, 1995). By observing Foucaults (1978) literature the history of sexuality we can see an anti-essentialist account of the sexual body. Foucault (1978) argued that the construct of the natural sex functions in order to disguise the productive operation of power in relation to human sexuality. Based on Foucaults (1978) work, Judith butler (1990) discusses that the notion of natural sex naturalises the regulatory idea of natural heterosexuality which then goes on to reinforce constraints on sexuality. McNay (1992) outlines how Foucaults history of sexuality exposes the contingent and socially determined nature of sexuality. McNay (1992) argues that this frees the body, allowing the breakdown of heterosexuality and the emergence of new realms of pleasure. Much of the debates surrounding sexuality during the 1960s and 1970s were viewed as having a large emphasis of the theories of pleasure and power. On the way into the 1980s the importance for feminists shifted onto the subject of the degrading acts towards women through the process of sado-masochism, pornography and prostitution (Strud, 2010). Feminists have been noted for arguing that pornography works in the exploitation of women which in turn contributes to the male objectification of women and sexism (Strud, 2010). A prominent figure in the anti-pornography movement was Andrea Dworkin, a feminist who aligned herself with the far-right movement (Strud, 2010). Dworkin and her fellow radical feminists characterised pornography as an industry of damaging abuse, and frequently discussed prostitution as a system of severe exploitation (Strud, 2010). Dworkin also suggested that heterosexual intercourse is a key factor in the subordination of patriarchy (Strud, 2010). Third wave feminists known as lipstick feminists made attempts to reclaim sexual power (Duggan, Hunter, 1995). They argued that dressing provocatively and maintaining sexual allure empowers women, it is also suggested that these feminists did not see a conflict between stripping, exhibitionism, girl-on-girl displays or pornography with feminism (Duggan, Hunter, 1995). A criticism of the third wave is often how it came about. The first and second wave are acknowledged as coming from a period where the main aim at hand were womens rights, it was a period where politics were intertwined with culture (Agger, 1992). The third wave which is also refereed to as the feminist sex wars rose from the popular culture of punk rock, consumerism and the birth of modern technologies and outlets such as mobile telephony and the internet (Agger, 1992). It has been discussed how there is often tension between the second and third wave of feminism due to the methods used to gain attention for important causes. However when these are observed we can elucidate that the methods used, such as lipstick feminists sexual allure or Riot Grrrl bands political anarchist lyrics, they can be deemed appropriate for the fast chaning modern culture of the 1980s and 1990s (Leonard, 1997). Some people think little girls should be seen and not heard, but I think Oh bondage up yours, lyrics sang by Poly Styrene of X-Ray Spex (1977), one of the female punk rock bands who were part of the feminist anarchy movement. As can be observed by many of the lyrics of such bands, there is a level of sexual empowerment in the female youth of the 1980s and 1990s. Riot Grrrls were seen to not meet the needs of all women, mainly due to the white middle class youth orientation (Agger, 1992). Riot Grrrls were seen to succeed in the overturning of the male hegemonic punk culture, Turn the tables with our unity- They neither moral nor majority Wake up and smell the coffee Or just say no to individuality quoted by L7 (1992), this supports the sense of community felt among young girls, who felt a sense of alienation from mainstream culture (Leonard, 1997). A prominent band in the Riot Grrrl movement was Bikini Kill (1998), there powerful, political and sexual songs featured heavily in the popular culture of American youth feminism, with lyrics such as Just cause my world, sweet sister, is so fucking goddamn full of rape does that mean my body must always be a source of pain. Christine Hoff Sommers (1994) discusses women who have betrayed feminism, she talks about an article written by Roiphe in the New York Times Sunday Magazine. In the article Roiphe accuses feminists of defining rape to include any kind of sex a woman experiences as negative (Sommers, 1994). This could be seen as challenging for feminists who were attempting to educate girls that sex without their consent constitutes as rape. Although Riot Grrrls did not achieve any radical changes for women, they were seen to make differences on a more individual level, supporting the female youth on issues such as sexual abuse and rape, which are seen as important factors in the s ubject of female sexual empowerment (Agger, 1992). Duggan and Hunter (1995) discussed that the controversial sex wars which focussed on debates surrounding political and cultural battles over sexuality in the 1980s and 1990s, also characterised key feminist debates of the second wave. The false stereotypes of feminists such as anti-male, fat, humourless, bra-burning were seen to be actively challenged in the third wave (Hollows, Moseley, 2006). It is also discussed that some of what is currently referred to as third wave feminism is indistinguishable from popularised atheoretical post feminism; Michelle Goldberg (2001) describes this as shopping and fucking. We can observe by this that where third wave feminists viewed their actions as being methods of sexual control politically and culturally, early theorists and feminists conduced their behaviour was un-intellectual and made important issues void by allowing them to revolve around hotter-sex, designer shoes, intimidating clothing and expensive make-up (Hollows, Moseley, 2006). The acknowledgement of theorists and feminists has allowed us a deeper insight into the views of sexuality from the 1960s onwards. What is interesting is how different feminist theories began to differ in aims on the way into the 1980s. The common aim had been to liberate women from the societal constraints, not only in public places but also in the privacy of their own home. There remained however a range of strong views surrounding heterosexuality and the mystery of the female orgasm, with the liberation of gay men, lesbian women and straight women sexually, the traditional theories, such as essentialism were challenged. The changes made by feminists cannot be denied, changes that span over decades and in some cases centuries, it is easy to take for granted the sexual freedom that can be experienced by women in modern society, however when we observe feminist history we can begin to understand the sacrifices that have been made on behalf of women and the empowerment of female sexuality. This is their legacy. Word Count 1,922

Analysis of Eleanor Rigby :: Douglas Coupland

Eleanor Rigby is a story about a 30-something female who lives her life with a very conscious and accepting feeling towards to her complete loneliness. She never goes out beyond her daily work experience, which she begins by counting down to her predicted date of death. This seemingly perfect mirage of a life is broken when Liz receives a phone call from the hospital saying that she best come to the E.R. As she arrives she meets a charming young man who turns out to be her son Jeremy, who she gave up after a drunken one-night-stand in the 10th grade on a school sponsored trip to rome. Soon after being reunited with her son the doctors tell her that he has m.s. and that he doesn't have much time to life. Liz takes him home and begins to care for him, marking an incredible change in her life. As Jeremy's condition declines, Liz's attitude towards life progresses, and soon she finds herself in a journey to find Jeremy's father, and to find real meaning in life. Eleanor Rigby starts out slowly and in many instances you may be tempted to put down the book, so one may be able to shut distance themselves with Liz Dunn?s seemingly incessant whining. Yet as the novel progresses it is impossible not to feel compelled by the read. Coupland incorporates dark humor that drips off of every page leaving the reader satisfied. At times its hard not to read with a smirk on ones face. Yet the reality of the story is so real and just that the reader will find their minds wandering towards thoughts of the Liz in their life, or the liz in themselves. The theme is that the prescient knowledge of death exists not to discourage but to motivate one to acknowledge the shortness of life and to exist with the greatness any individual possesses. This is supported throughout the novel by many moments coated with loneliness and sorrow. and these moments seem to permeate all of what occurs. Liz seems to live off of this feeling of intense solitude and use it as an excuse to be mediocre in life. Only when Jeremy is introduced into her life does she begin to take on roles she should have been motivated to do so earlier, and only when his imminent death becomes a pressing factor does she realize why he is not a miserable person.

Psychology in Modern Drama and Buchners Woyzeck Essay -- Psychology B

Psychology in Modern Drama and Buchner's Woyzeck When reading the play Woyzeck by Georg Buchner, one must be willing to delve deep into the surreal as well as the confusing and even uncomfortable. The play hinges upon psychology and the fact (one of the few facts found in the play, even) that the main character of the play (Woyzeck) has obvious psychological problems that none of the other characters seem to pay attention to. Psychology is a constant theme in modern drama, and Buchner seems to bring that to the forefront in Woyzeck, especially. But why is psychology so pertinent to modern drama? Modern drama, specifically, seems to focus on the more dark and twisted things in human nature, and what can be the darkest and most twisted creations besides the mind? C. Bigsby, in his article titled, Drama As Cultural Sign states, â€Å"drama has always had the power to engage the present in a way that is less true of other genres.† Again, modern drama especially seems to focus on psychology. It is engaging to the audience, and an interesting new subject to explore in drama. There are far too many examples of psychology used in modern drama to focus on in this essay, but a few to name have been read in class, such as Machinal, A Doll’s House, The Birthday Party and even Angels in America. It is true that every play in existence incorporates psychology into it, but modern plays, and these specifically, make it much more obvious and almost seem to take it upon themselves to purposely make the audience uncomfort able and push the audience into a position where they are forced to recognize some sense of surrealism in life and a basic sense of â€Å"screwed-up†ness, as it were, that exists in life. If there are so many examples... ...himself and the doctor (the conversations that Buchner provides for the play are creations of his own mind, as his research did not state specifically what Woyzeck said to people). Were it not for the development of modern psychology, modern drama would no doubt be unable to explore the darker side of human nature as thoroughly as it does with plays such as Woyzeck. Works Cited Bigsby, C. W. E. Drama as Cultural Sign: American Dramatic Criticism, 1945-1978. American Quarterly. Vol. 30 (1978), pp. 331-357. Buchner, Georg. Woyzeck. The Longman Anthology of Modern and Contemporary Drama. pp 16-28. Hauser, Ronald. â€Å"Georg Buchner†. 1963. McCarthy, John. Some Aspects of Imagery in Buchner’s Woyzeck. MLN. Vol. 91. April 1976. pp 543-551. Somerville, John. The Strange Case of Modern Psychology. The Journal of Philosophy. Vol. 31. October 1934. pp. 571-577.

Mass Media Filling the Moral Void Essay -- Morals Ethics Television En

Mass Media Filling the Moral Void A walk down the streets of D.C. provides more than just exercise and scenery. It is a journey through the stages of Mass Media. The first newsstand one spots is full of every newspaper one could possibly want to read. A couple more steps down the sidewalk, and one can see the televisions flashing through the windows of ESPN Zone, and one is bombarded by the blaring sounds of radios from car stereos and stores alike. It is almost impossible to escape the claw of Mass Media, because there are very few places to which media influence does not extend. Through the beginning of Mass Media during the 1400’s to the present, television, radio and video games have become a large part of every child’s life. With media surrounding more than one’s immediate family, it is hard not to be influenced in everyday life. Experts continue to debate the influence that Mass Media has on the youth of this generation, and whether it is vital to growth or an impairment on a childâ €™s education. The first step when taking a look at Mass Media and its influences is to find out how clearly it can be defined. Mass Media are the mediums or channels through which images, information, and entertainment are sent. As defined by Professor Lawrence Grossberg of Communication Studies, Mass Media is exactly that: media generated from a single point to a large number of points or from a single source to an audience of many people (Grossberg 8). Media can best be explained as communication through television, radio, newspapers or the Internet. Since Mass Media is transported from a single source to multiple sources, it is hard to realize how each person will perceive it. Indeed, the sender of media has little or no contro... ...on, is a topic that will be continually discussed. In any case, no matter which kind of media it is, someone with always find it entertaining. Works Cited: Baker, Karen. "Kick the TV habit for a week." Times-Picayune. 22 Apr. 2004. Lexis Nexis. 13 Feb. 2005 <http://web.lexis-nexis.com>. Grossberg, Lawrence, Ellen Wartella, and D. Charles Whitney. Media Making: Mass Media In A Popular Culture. Thousand Oaks: SAGE Publications Inc., 1998. Guernsey, Lisa. "Tuning Into a Problem." The Washington Post. 9 Nov. 2004. Lexis Nexis. 14 Feb. 2005 <http://web.lexis-nexis.com>. Raymo, Chet. "Bach on the Wing." The Boston Globe. 3 Oct. 2004: 34. Lexis Nexis. 13 Feb. 2005 <http://web.lexis-nexis.com>. Scheibe, Cyndy. "Television in the Lives of Children." CRETv. 15 Feb. 2005. <http://www.ithaca.edu/CRETv>.

New grading policy

In the present paper, I would like to provide my arguments against the new grading policy, whose nature is random selection of grades. In fact, there are two points of its fallibility: the fact that it actually measures students’ luck rather than their true achievements and that it destroys the entire purpose of education as the process of gaining knowledge and skills. First of all, it is necessary to define the term â€Å"grading†. According to the Educational Policies Committee, grading is â€Å"the main symbolic method of recording the evaluation of a student’s academic performance† (Educational Policies Committee, 1991). Evaluation, in turn, can be defined as assessment of the value of individual achievements, according to the existing educational standards. Education, according to Fuhrmann and Grasha (1983), is â€Å"the development of knowledge, skills and character of students through continuous motivation† (Fuhrmann and Grasha, 1983, p.156). As one can understand, the new grading policy does not set up the interrelation between the student’s academic attainments and performance and the symbolic mark, letter or figure. Those learners whose achievements are poorer have an opportunity to receive higher grades through random selection method, whereas more successful and hard-working students might fail in terms of grade. Consequently, one can sum up that the new policy actually measures the person’s luck, as the grade does not depend upon their efforts, skills or abilities. Furthermore, given the definition of education, it is possible to assume that the new grading policy contradicts to the purpose of college or university studies. This principle of grading does not motivate students to develop the necessary knowledge and skills, as their performance is not appropriately evaluated, i.e. the truth about the value of achievement is distorted. Therefore, students, being aware of the fact that the true information about their attainment will not be provided, are unlikely to work on their academic performance and lose the willingness to succeed. To sum up, a positive appraisal of one’s achievements is amongst the major incentives in the education system. The learners thus are unlikely to become true professionals after this motivator is eliminated with the introduction of the new grading policy. Works cited Educational Policies Committee. Responsibility for Grading and Grading Policy. 4 Apr 1991, < http://www.usu.edu/policies/pdf/Grading-Responsibility.pdf> Fuhrmann, B. and Grasha, A. A Practical Handbook for College Teachers. Boston: Little Brown, 1993.      

Vampire Academy Chapter 1

ONE I FELT HER FEAR BEFORE I heard her screams. Her nightmare pulsed into me, shaking me out of my own dream, which had had something to do with a beach and some hot guy rubbing suntan oil on me. Images – hers, not mine – tumbled through my mind: fire and blood, the smell of smoke, the twisted metal of a car. The pictures wrapped around me, suffocating me, until some rational part of my brain reminded me that this wasn't my dream. I woke up, strands of long, dark hair sticking to my forehead. Lissa lay in her bed, thrashing and screaming. I bolted out of mine, quickly crossing the few feet that separated us. â€Å"Liss,† I said, shaking her. â€Å"Liss, wake up.† Her screams dropped off, replaced by soft whimpers. â€Å"Andre,† she moaned. â€Å"Oh God.† I helped her sit up. â€Å"Liss, you aren't there anymore. Wake up.† After a few moments, her eyes fluttered open, and in the dim lighting, I could see a flicker of consciousness start to take over. Her frantic breathing slowed, and she leaned into me, resting her head against my shoulder. I put an arm around her and ran a hand over her hair. â€Å"It's okay,† I told her gently. â€Å"Everything's okay.† â€Å"I had that dream.† â€Å"Yeah. I know.† We sat like that for several minutes, not saying anything else. When I felt her emotions calm down, I leaned over to the nightstand between our beds and turned on the lamp. It glowed dimly, but neither of us really needed much to see by. Attracted by the light, our housemate's cat, Oscar, leapt up onto the sill of the open window. He gave me a wide berth – animals don't like dhampirs, for whatever reason – but jumped onto the bed and rubbed his head against Lissa, purring softly. Animals didn't have a problem with Moroi, and they all loved Lissa in particular. Smiling, she scratched his chin, and I felt her calm further. â€Å"When did we last do a feeding?† I asked, studying her face. Her fair skin was paler than usual. Dark circles hung under her eyes, and there was an air of frailty about her. School had been hectic this week, and I couldn't remember the last time I'd given her blood. â€Å"It's been like? ­more than two days, hasn't it? Three? Why didn't you say anything?† She shrugged and wouldn't meet my eyes. â€Å"You were busy. I didn't want to – â€Å" â€Å"Screw that,† I said, shifting into a better position. No wonder she seemed so weak. Oscar, not wanting me any closer, leapt down and returned to the window, where he could watch at a safe distance. â€Å"Come on. Let's do this.† â€Å"Rose – â€Å" â€Å"Come on. It'll make you feel better.† I tilted my head and tossed my hair back, baring my neck. I saw her hesitate, but the sight of my neck and what it offered proved too powerful. A hungry expression crossed her face, and her lips parted slightly, exposing the fangs she normally kept hidden while living among humans. Those fangs contrasted oddly with the rest of her features. With her pretty face and pale blond hair, she looked more like an angel than a vampire. As her teeth neared my bare skin, I felt my heart race with a mix of fear and anticipation. I always hated feeling the latter, but it was nothing I could help, a weakness I couldn't shake. Her fangs bit into me, hard, and I cried out at the brief flare of pain. Then it faded, replaced by a wonderful, golden joy that spread through my body. It was better than any of the times I'd been drunk or high. Better than sex – or so I imagined, since I'd never done it. It was a blanket of pure, refined pleasure, wrapping me up and promising everything would be right in the world. On and on it went. The chemicals in her saliva triggered an endorphin rush, and I lost track of the world, lost track of who I was. Then, regretfully, it was over. It had taken less than a minute. She pulled back, wiping her hand across her lips as she studied me. â€Å"You okay?† â€Å"I? ­yeah.† I lay back on the bed, dizzy from the blood loss. â€Å"I just need to sleep it off. I'm fine.† Her pale, jade-green eyes watched me with concern. She stood up. â€Å"I'm going to get you something to eat.† My protests came awkwardly to my lips, and she left before I could get out a sentence. The buzz from her bite had lessened as soon as she broke the connection, but some of it still lingered in my veins, and I felt a goofy smile cross my lips. Turning my head, I glanced up at Oscar, still sitting in the window. â€Å"You don't know what you're missing,† I told him. His attention was on something outside. Hunkering down into a crouch, he puffed out his jet-black fur. His tail started twitching. My smile faded, and I forced myself to sit up. The world spun, and I waited for it to right itself before trying to stand. When I managed it, the dizziness set in again and this time refused to leave. Still, I felt okay enough to stumble to the window and peer out with Oscar. He eyed me warily, scooted over a little, and then returned to whatever had held his attention. A warm breeze – unseasonably warm for a Portland fall – played with my hair as I leaned out. The street was dark and relatively quiet. It was three in the morning, just about the only time a college campus settled down, at least somewhat. The house in which we'd rented a room for the past eight months sat on a residential street with old, mismatched houses. Across the road, a streetlight flickered, nearly ready to burn out. It still cast enough light for me to make out the shapes of cars and buildings. In our own yard, I could see the silhouettes of trees and bushes. And a man watching me. I jerked back in surprise. A figure stood by a tree in the yard, about thirty feet away, where he could easily see through the window. He was close enough that I probably could have thrown something and hit him. He was certainly close enough that he could have seen what Lissa and I had just done. The shadows covered him so well that even with my heightened sight, I couldn't make out any of his features, save for his height. He was tall. Really tall. He stood there for just a moment, barely discernible, and then stepped back, disappearing into the shadows cast by the trees on the far side of the yard. I was pretty sure I saw someone else move nearby and join him before the blackness swallowed them both. Whoever these figures were, Oscar didn't like them. Not counting me, he usually got along with most people, growing upset only when someone posed an immediate danger. The guy outside hadn't done anything threatening to Oscar, but the cat had sensed something, something that put him on edge. Something similar to what he always sensed in me. Icy fear raced through me, almost – but not quite – eradicating the lovely bliss of Lissa's bite. Backing up from the window, I jerked on a pair of jeans that I found on the floor, nearly falling over in the process. Once they were on, I grabbed my coat and Lissa's, along with our wallets. Shoving my feet into the first shoes I saw, I headed out the door. Downstairs, I found her in the cramped kitchen, rummaging through the refrigerator. One of our housemates, Jeremy, sat at the table, hand on his forehead as he stared sadly at a calculus book. Lissa regarded me with surprise. â€Å"You shouldn't be up.† â€Å"We have to go. Now.† Her eyes widened, and then a moment later, understanding clicked in. â€Å"Are you? ­really? Are you sure?† I nodded. I couldn't explain how I knew for sure. I just did. Jeremy watched us curiously. â€Å"What's wrong?† An idea came to mind. â€Å"Liss, get his car keys.† He looked back and forth between us. â€Å"What are you – â€Å" Lissa unhesitatingly walked over to him. Her fear poured into me through our psychic bond, but there was something else too: her complete faith that I would take care of everything, that we would be safe. Like always, I hoped I was worthy of that kind of trust. She smiled broadly and gazed directly into his eyes. For a moment, Jeremy just stared, still confused, and then I saw the thrall seize him. His eyes glazed over, and he regarded her adoringly. â€Å"We need to borrow your car,† she said in a gentle voice. â€Å"Where are your keys?† He smiled, and I shivered. I had a high resistance to compulsion, but I could still feel its effects when it was directed at another person. That, and I'd been taught my entire life that using it was wrong. Reaching into his pocket, Jeremy handed over a set of keys hanging on a large red key chain. â€Å"Thank you,† said Lissa. â€Å"And where is it parked?† â€Å"Down the street,† he said dreamily. â€Å"At the corner. By Brown.† Four blocks away. â€Å"Thank you,† she repeated, backing up. â€Å"As soon as we leave, I want you to go back to studying. Forget you ever saw us tonight.† He nodded obligingly. I got the impression he would have walked off a cliff for her right then if she'd asked. All humans were susceptible to compulsion, but Jeremy appeared weaker than most. That came in handy right now. â€Å"Come on,† I told her. â€Å"We've got to move.† We stepped outside, heading toward the corner he'd named. I was still dizzy from the bite and kept stumbling, unable to move as quickly as I wanted. Lissa had to catch hold of me a few times to stop me from falling. All the time, that anxiety rushed into me from her mind. I tried my best to ignore it; I had my own fears to deal with. â€Å"Rose? ­what are we going to do if they catch us?† she whispered. â€Å"They won't,† I said fiercely. â€Å"I won't let them.† â€Å"But if they've found us – â€Å" â€Å"They found us before. They didn't catch us then. We'll just drive over to the train station and go to L.A. They'll lose the trail.† I made it sound simple. I always did, even though there was nothing simple about being on the run from the people we'd grown up with. We'd been doing it for two years, hiding wherever we could and just trying to finish high school. Our senior year had just started, and living on a college campus had seemed safe. We were so close to freedom. She said nothing more, and I felt her faith in me surge up once more. This was the way it had always been between us. I was the one who took action, who made sure things happened – sometimes recklessly so. She was the more reasonable one, the one who thought things out and researched them extensively before acting. Both styles had their uses, but at the moment, recklessness was called for. We didn't have time to hesitate. Lissa and I had been best friends ever since kindergarten, when our teacher had paired us together for writing lessons. Forcing five-year-olds to spell Vasilisa Dragomir and Rosemarie Hathaway was beyond cruel, and we'd – or rather, I'd – responded appropriately. I'd chucked my book at our teacher and called her a fascist bastard. I hadn't known what those words meant, but I'd known how to hit a moving target. Lissa and I had been inseparable ever since. â€Å"Do you hear that?† she asked suddenly. It took me a few seconds to pick up what her sharper senses already had. Footsteps, moving fast. I grimaced. We had two more blocks to go. â€Å"We've got to run for it,† I said, catching hold of her arm. â€Å"But you can't – â€Å" â€Å"Run.† It took every ounce of my willpower not to pass out on the sidewalk. My body didn't want to run after losing blood or while still metabolizing the effects of her saliva. But I ordered my muscles to stop their bitching and clung to Lissa as our feet pounded against the concrete. Normally I could have outrun her without any extra effort – particularly since she was barefoot – but tonight, she was all that held me upright. The pursuing footsteps grew louder, closer. Black stars danced before my eyes. Ahead of us, I could make out Jeremy's green Honda. Oh God, if we could just make it – Ten feet from the car, a man stepped directly into our path. We came to a screeching halt, and I jerked Lissa back by her arm. It was him, the guy I'd seen across the street watching me. He was older than us, maybe mid-twenties, and as tall as I'd figured, probably six-six or six-seven. And under different circumstances – say, when he wasn't holding up our desperate escape – I would have thought he was hot. Shoulder-length brown hair, tied back in a short ponytail. Dark brown eyes. A long brown coat-a duster, I thought it was called. But his hotness was irrelevant now. He was only an obstacle keeping Lissa and me away from the car and our freedom. The footsteps behind us slowed, and I knew our pursuers had caught up. Off to the sides, I detected more movement, more people closing in. God. They'd sent almost a dozen guardians to retrieve us. I couldn't believe it. The queen herself didn't travel with that many. Panicked and not entirely in control of my higher reasoning, I acted out of instinct. I pressed up to Lissa, keeping her behind me and away from the man who appeared to be the leader. â€Å"Leave her alone,† I growled. â€Å"Don't touch her.† His face was unreadable, but he held out his hands in what was apparently supposed to be some sort of calming gesture, like I was a rabid animal he was planning to sedate. â€Å"I'm not going to – â€Å" He took a step forward. Too close. I attacked him, leaping out in an offensive maneuver I hadn't used in two years, not since Lissa and I had run away. The move was stupid, another reaction born of instinct and fear. And it was hopeless. He was a skilled guardian, not a novice who hadn't finished his training. He also wasn't weak and on the verge of passing out. And man, was he fast. I'd forgotten how fast guardians could be, how they could move and strike like cobras. He knocked me off as though brushing away a fly, and his hands slammed into me and sent me backwards. I don't think he meant to strike that hard – probably just intended to keep me away – but my lack of coordination interfered with my ability to respond. Unable to catch my footing, I started to fall, heading straight toward the sidewalk at a twisted angle, hip-first. It was going to hurt. A lot. Only it didn't. Just as quickly as he'd blocked me, the man reached out and caught my arm, keeping me upright. When I'd steadied myself, I noticed he was staring at me – or, more precisely, at my neck. Still disoriented, I didn't get it right away. Then, slowly, my free hand reached up to the side of my throat and lightly touched the wound Lissa had made earlier. When I pulled my fingers back, I saw slick, dark blood on my skin. Embarrassed, I shook my hair so that it fell forward around my face. My hair was thick and long and completely covered my neck. I'd grown it out for precisely this reason. The guy's dark eyes lingered on the now-covered bite a moment longer and then met mine. I returned his look defiantly and quickly jerked out of his hold. He let me go, though I knew he could have restrained me all night if he'd wanted. Fighting the nauseating dizziness, I backed toward Lissa again, bracing myself for another attack. Suddenly, her hand caught hold of mine. â€Å"Rose,† she said quietly. â€Å"Don't.† Her words had no effect on me at first, but calming thoughts gradually began to settle in my mind, coming across through the bond. It wasn't exactly compulsion – she wouldn't use that on me – but it was effectual, as was the fact that we were hopelessly outnumbered and outclassed. Even I knew struggling would be pointless. The tension left my body, and I sagged in defeat. Sensing my resignation, the man stepped forward, turning his attention to Lissa. His face was calm. He swept her a bow and managed to look graceful doing it, which surprised me considering his height. â€Å"My name is Dimitri Belikov,† he said. I could hear a faint Russian accent. â€Å"I've come to take you back to St. Vladimir's Academy, Princess.†

“Australian Rules” essay Essay

Australian rules is set in a small rural town, where the relationships between the white townspeople and the Aboriginal people on the mission are complex, conflicted and marred by deeply entrenched racism. The local football team in many ways serves to represent the town, it reflects the conflicted relationship between the white people and the Aboriginal people- we begin to understand this as the film unfolds. Other themes inherent in the film are themes of family, love, loyalty and violence- the secrecy of domestic violence and the more overt forms of racial violence that spill out onto the public spheres of the football field and the pub. The opening narration informs us that half the football team is Aboriginal and that there would not be a football team without the Aboriginal players, therefore we understand how the town team relies on the talent and number of the Aboriginal players. We then witness the contradiction of the white and Aboriginal boys playing side by side as team members followed by the social segregation between the members after the match. This segregation is highlighted by Blacky (a white boy from town) and Dumby (an Aboriginal boy who is the best player on the team) whose friendship transcends these borders and we also witness ways that this segregation between the white teenager and Aboriginal teenagers is culturally imposed by certain adults. In one of the beginning scenes, just after a football match, Dumby and Blacky want to ‘hang out’ together, but Dumby is taken back to the mission by an older friend and Blacky cannot follow. Blacky, Clarence and Dumby all call out to each other ‘Nukkin ya’ and this use of Aboriginal language between two Aboriginal teenagers and Blacky the white boy signifies the level of their friendship and mutual acceptance. Pickles’ comment to Blacky that ‘now he even talks like one’, symbolises the town’s disapproval of such respect for Aboriginal culture and Aboriginal people. The character of Pretty, Dumby’s older friend from the mission, plays an important role in the film. He was once a talented football player himself but no longer ‘kicks goals for whitefellas’ and he is significant because he is the main character to verbalise that Aboriginal people are treated  differently and unfairly. He is somewhat aggressive in his approach, expressing bitterness and resentment, yet it is implied that his approach is reactionary to the way he has been treated, and his statementsoverlooked by the white coach- are significant examples of changing responses to uneven power dynamics. For example the white coach tells Dumby to make sure all the Aboriginal team players turn up to the next match and Pretty interjects stating that it doesn’t work that way anymore, his metaphor of ‘yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir’, clearly refers to the history of Aboriginal people being used as servants and points out that the coach’s approach of ordering Dumby around is no longer appropriate. Unfortunately the coach does not take this message on and rather than acknowledging the Aboriginal boys as talented, valuable and indeed essential team players, he nervously treats them as unreliable boys who may destroy the team’s chances by not turning up. This attitude of relying on Aboriginal talent, whilst refusing to appropriately acknowledge this talent is made explicitly clear during the award giving ceremony that takes place after the team win the finals. Pretty is made to leave the ceremony after he disputes the truth of a speech about the egalitarian nature of football ‘where you can be anyone, from anywhere, and receive the recognition you deserve’. Pretty is immediately proved to be right when the awards are given only to white boys, and Dumby, who is obviously the most talented player on the team is left completely unacknowledged. There is a direct shift in Dumby’s response and he becomes more like Pretty, demonstrating anger and resentment, rather than his normal cheerful, co operative self. This gives us insight into Pretty’s character and how he may have developed the attitude that he has towards white people. Pretty and Dumby’s break-in to the pub that very night can be interpreted as a direct response to the unfairness of the award ceremony- although there are characters, such as the coach, who are not willing to see the connection. The fact that Dumby is then murdered by Blacky’s father is a complicated event with many layers of meaning. The insights we have been given about Blacky’s father prior to the shooting is that of a man who dominates his family, puts down his sons for showing vulnerability and who physically abuses his wife. There are  instances in which we can see links between the violence he demonstrates towards his family and the verbal and physical violence he feels justified in displaying towards Dumby, and then later towards Dumby’s sister, Clarence. There is a scene in which the father physically attacks Blacky and forces Blacky to declare loyalty to him (regarding the shooting), meanwhile verbally abusing Clarence with racial slurs and ordering her to get out of his house. During this scene the camera pans onto the faces of the Blacky’s mother and siblings and we see how domestic and racial violence become enmeshed, that the father’s attack on Blacky for being with Clarence is an act of violence that hurts his whole family. Interestingly it is Clarence who is the least cowed in this scene, she does not show fear and walks out with dignity. In this way we can see how control and domination is a particular pattern in this family, but is not taken on by Clarence. In many ways, the shooting, and the following events, are catalysts for great changes, both in the town, and more specifically in Blacky’s family. Blacky rejects his parent’s demands to maintain loyalty to his father and instead Blacky remains loyal to his friendship with Dumby. Blacky’s rejection of his father’s authority instigates other members of the family, such as his mother and next youngest brother who subtly take Blacky’s side. The scene where his brother urges him to get up and face his father, (when his father beat him to the ground), symbolises the request of his family for Blacky to represent them all and challenge the father’s authority. The resolution of the film sees the father gone, leaving Clarence and Blacky happily together but planning to this town ‘that has nothing for them’. The fate of the town is not so happy, the boys from the mission won’t come to town and there is no longer a football team. In many ways we can see how Australian rules reflects the complexities of human relationships- of love and loyalty and hatred and violence, and clearly demonstrates how deeply entrenched racism hurts everyone. The town, through its racism has destroyed the tentative trust of the Aboriginal people and has lost its ‘glory’- its winning football team. Its seems empty, a place only good for leaving.