Women's Views on News |
- Women less politically aware than men
- Breast isn’t always best for mum
- Breastfeeding takes balls
- Sleep out to raise money
| Women less politically aware than men Posted: 07 Aug 2013 08:15 AM PDT
The study, funded by the Economic and Social Research Council, revealed that the gap in political awareness is actually the widest in affluent countries and countries that promote gender equality. The UK has the second largest gender divide in political knowledge out of the ten countries examined in the study, which includes Australia, Japan and the USA. Professor James Curran, director of the Goldsmiths Leverhulme Media Research Centre at the University of London, asked 10,000 people questions about politics and political news. British men correctly answered an average of 5.8 questions out of eight but British females correctly answered just 3.9 questions. Norway had the largest differences in scores, while Columbia, Greece and South Korea had the smallest differences at less than 20 per cent. Professor Curran said: "Our finding that the gap between men and women's knowledge of politics is greater in Norway – a country ranked globally as one of the very highest in terms of gender equality – than in South Korea – a country with a much lower equality rating – is particularly striking." In order to investigate these surprising results, Professor Curran and his colleagues examined the content and supply of news in the ten nations. They found that in all of these countries primetime television news predominately featured male sources, with women only cited and interviewed in less than a third of news stories. When female sources were used, it was usually for topics concerning culture, family and lifestyle. Professor Kaori Hayashi, Professor Curran's co-researcher, believes that women's under-representation in the news may be one reason why men know more about politics. "Such under-representation and topical bias of women in news media may curb women's motivation to acquire political knowledge actively and discourage them from political participation, and even prevent women from engaging as citizens in a democratic society," he suggested. Professor Curran agreed: "It's enormously off-putting for women to be looking at the news as always being about men." "Politics is projected as a man's world and that encourages a sense of disconnection," he added. The professor thinks that this projection could easily be changed. "If there was more about health and education and less about the Westminster bubble, it would be more interesting to women," he argued. Professor Curran's research team also discovered that listening to, reading and watching the news are largely male activities. Men in Canada, Norway and the UK claimed that they are much more exposed to the news, both via newspapers and television, than women. Professor Hayashi said: "It seems that gaps in exposure to media are related to the gaps of knowledge between men and women. "The reasons why women watch less TV, read fewer newspapers and listen to less radio programmes in many countries than men could include the discouragingly male bias of much media content, less leisure time because of the greater unpaid work undertaken by women in the home and persistent social norms and expectations inherited from the past." The research team hopes that their findings will help to eradicate gender inequality within politics. Dr Sharon Coen, who co-wrote the study, said: "These results highlight that there is still a lot of work to do in order to allow women to take an active role in the political life of their countries of origin – and we are determined to help."  |
| Breast isn’t always best for mum Posted: 07 Aug 2013 05:37 AM PDT
The general consensus is that in the majority of cases breast feeding gives a baby the best possible start in life. So what happens when breast feeding simply doesn't work for a mother and her baby? I spoke with two mothers who had quite different experiences but for whom breast feeding definitely wasn't best. Before the birth of her daughter, Claire was open-minded about breastfeeding. "My gut feeling was that it wouldn’t be for me, but I decided to give it a go anyway," she said. She didn't feel under pressure from family or friends to breast or bottle feed and her husband was supportive of whatever decision she made at the time. But when her daughter was born with blood sugar levels were already low, Claire explained, she was told that they had to get food into her 'ASAP' – and eventually they fed her an 'emergency bottle of formula'. "The midwives were squeezing my nipples like I was a milk cow…all day long I was passed from one midwife to another to be milked!" Not quite the introduction to breastfeeding exhausted new mothers hope for, but a surprisingly common experience. Claire breastfed her daughter for two days in the hospital, and although it started out well, her nipples soon became cracked, sore and bleeding – a common side effect – and her daughter wasn't getting enough milk. With the support and help of one of the hospital midwives Claire decided to switch to bottle feeding. The midwife, Claire recalled, said that she “wasn’t going to get funny about me deciding to go to bottles as she would rather see happy mums and babies than stressed-out ones.” Claire clearly appreciated the health benefits and advice about breastfeeding, and indeed that was why she tried at the start and made an effort to get her daughter the first few days of essential colostrum. But she also feels comfortable with her decision to switch to a bottle, and she agreed with her midwife that a stressed out, unhappy mother is more of a problem for the baby than the potential long-term benefits of breast milk. Laura breastfed her first son for two weeks exclusively, but found it a distressing time. Contrary to what we're so often told, this 'natural' way of feeding your child is by no means an easy or simple process. Like Claire, Laura quickly found herself suffering from sore nipples and every time he latched on it was, in her words, agony. And she felt a lot of pressure from the media, the health professionals and every book she picked up about newborns and caring for your baby. The stress of being a brand new mother, combined with the inevitable exhaustion of birth, as well as recovering from a poorly stitched tear that had occurred during the birth, knocked Laura's mood and confidence. She feels that she received no support in the hospital at the time of the birth, and later the health visitor gave her the impression that mixed, or combination feeding of formula and breast milk was as 'bad' as just formula feeding. "At the time it all felt such a big thing and I felt my ability to breastfeed my baby was a reflection on my overall ability as a mother. I felt so awful about it all for months and months.” Laura feels that the NCT classes she attended prior to the birth of her son had painted breastfeeding in an unrealistic way, making it seem 'easy' and 'natural' which compounded her feelings of failure. Two weeks after the birth Laura telephoned a breastfeeding counsellor who told her the whole experience, including the agonising mastitis was perfectly 'normal'. Needless to say, this did little to improve her mood and she decided that enough was enough. "It was a very low moment for me and [my son] was only 2 weeks old. I couldn’t shake off the feeling that I had failed him. Every time I bottle fed him in public I felt such a failure and that people would be making judgements." Despite this awful first experience, when Laura's second boy was born she decided to try again, and armed with a lot more, realistic, knowledge and advice, found the experience was a lot more positive. He was a very hungry baby, as many breastfed babies are, and when he lost a little weight the health visitors suggested introducing a daily bottle, which worked well, without having the slightest negative effect on how he fed or how much milk Laura produced. But even with the extra bottle, her baby still demanded a lot from her. "I was still up all night feeding him and survived on about 3 hours sleep but I was determined to give it a go. I enjoyed breastfeeding and I felt like a ‘proper’ Mum!" Then, after three months of looking after a baby and a toddler on so little sleep Laura decided it was time to switch to bottle feeding. Not without guilt, but she knew that she had done the best she could possibly do. "Literally the day that I started to formula feed him he changed into a content and chilled baby and he slept 7 hours through the night. My sanity began to return and I began to really enjoy being a mummy to two children." The health benefits of breastfeeding for the baby – and to a lesser extent the mother – are impressed upon mothers-to-be at every turn, but little consideration is given for what happens when it doesn't work, when it isn't so easy or when it is not the right thing for both, when breast simply is not best. We need to find the right balance between encouraging the best, healthiest start for babies and their mothers, but not set up those same mothers for a fall. Help needs to be about finding the right way for a mother to feed her child, as opposed to 'support for breast feeding' or 'support for bottle feeding'.  |
| Posted: 07 Aug 2013 03:30 AM PDT
Guest post from Cassandra Fox. Nothing to trouble the squeamish – I was just sat in a cafe, amongst a clientèle largely made up of other mothers, with a strategically-placed muslin cloth saving my modesty. For many breastfeeding mothers, no biggy. But, nonetheless, it had taken me 8 weeks to build up the courage to do this. And this is my second child – my first son I breastfed for 6 months, only ever in my own home. So this was a biggy for me, and I was nervous. Scoping the room for potential peeping Toms/disapprovers/former work colleagues, and arranging my ridiculously complicated clothing to allow the minimum necessary flesh exposure, I took a deep breath, held my baby close, and whipped out a bit of a boob. To my huge relief, no one (besides my grateful son) noticed. No sirens went off, no hazard lights illuminated, no torch-bearing mobs descending to pull my baby from me and brand a scarlet 'B' on my forehead. People drank their coffee, chatted their chats, and may or may not have noticed that I was breastfeeding my baby at the table. I simultaneously patted myself on the back for being brave and doing the thing that had scared me, and kicked myself hard for having been scared in the first place. (Quite a manoeuvre to pull off while breastfeeding a wriggly baby, I can tell you.) So why had it taken me so long to do what should come naturally? Well, I have many excuses. Here are a few. Firstly, I'm blessed with an above-average size pair of knockers, which does make public feeding a little more 'showy' than those mums whose babies' heads are bigger than their boobs. Yeah, yeah, I know – "poor me and my lovely big rack", and as a good friend pointed out while I was hiding indoors feeding my first baby, I often wear tops so plunging I will be displaying far more tit on an evening out than I would have done by public nursing. Somehow this feels different though – choosing to display a selected area of flesh, as opposed to having to get the whole thing out, and it is, after all, my flesh. My post-pregnancy body feels both unfamiliar and appropriated – revealing intimate parts of it in public makes me uncomfortable. Secondly, breastfeeding is not an easy thing to do – and our cut-back NHS services don't help. My introduction to breastfeeding began with 3 days in hospital with my first son, where every few hours a different midwife would come over to see me and give me different advice on how to do it. 'Lie down.' 'Sit up.' 'Don't worry that he's not latching on yet.' 'Hold your baby like a rugby ball.' 'Hold your breast like a hamburger.' 'Feed your hamburger to your rugby ball.' (What?) 'Don't worry that he's turning yellow now.' 'Lie on your side.' 'No, the other side.' 'Lie on your back and let him feed himself.' 'Don't worry that he's asleep all the time.' 'Wake him up.' 'Blow in his face.' 'Tickle his feet.' 'Here, let me grab your sore, swollen boobs and shove them into your weak, sleepy baby's mouth.' 'Stop crying.' A paediatrician eventually intervened and insisted that my by now very yellow and skinny baby was given a formula, much to the disapproval of the midwives, who warned that letting a baby so much as look at a bottle would mean the end of breastfeeding. However, with some food energy inside him, we took our anaemic and sick baby home, and in my own calm bed, away from the conflicting advice and poking gloved fingers, my son and I learned how to breastfeed. I'm quite amazed that we managed to do it at all, let alone continue for a further six months. Every feed was a little victory, and I lovingly devoted hundreds of hours to feeding my son up to be healthy and plump. It was emotional. And I didn't necessarily want to get emotional in the John Lewis cafe. There's also the complicated logistics of holding a big jubbly in the right position so as not to suffocate baby, which is more difficult to attempt on the move. (Too icky for you yet? No? Good.) Plus there's my over-active milk supply and fast let-down, which means that when my baby breaks off from his feed to have a look round the room, and whacks my nip with his little fist, there's a good possibility of milk spurting across the cafe in a perfect arc of lactation, straight into someone else's skinny latte. Now, how's that for icky? None of these issues are unsurpassable, although I've used all of them as excuses for not feeding in public. But there's another more seedy issue adding pressure on my reluctance, and that of course is a lifetime of thinking of my boobs as symbols of my sexuality. Boys at primary pinged my bra straps to embarrass me; barmen served me alcohol with a wink when I pushed my teenage elbows together; workmen hollered that you wouldn't be getting many of those to the pound; and partners came and went and generally always were 'boob men'. Thirty-two years of my Devil's Dumplings being bouncy conductors of both unwelcome and welcomed sexual attention, and suddenly my breasts take on a completely different function as baby feeders. I knew that breast milk is the best food for my babies during the first months of their lives, and I would do anything to keep them healthy, but nonetheless it took me a while to get my head round this new unsexy role. Which is hardly surprising. Mainstream media is overspilling with big round boobs, in and out of clothes, selling us everything from yoghurt to life insurance. Page 3 has taught a generation that a woman's tits should be big, firm, and exposed every morning for male titillation. And the internet taught the following generation that those dirty pillows are available to aide sexual gratification 24 hours a day, once your credit card details have popped that bra clasp. That kind of availability clearly isn't compatible with a 3-hourly newborn feeding regime: so capitalism dictates that breasts become synonymous solely with sex, their nourishing and nurturing function obfuscated by lace and whipped cream. Freud would, I like to imagine, be frothing in his beard over the irony that the source of this sexualisation of breasts is the way we fed as babies, a method that capitalism is killing in favour of lucrative powders. You can see 10 foot titties on billboards across the nation, but images of breastfeeding women are classed by Facebook as 'obscene' and removed. And of course it's the most vulnerable mothers – the poor ones, the ones living in rural communities, and the young ones – who are most under pressure to live up to live up to capitalism's glamour myth. And those are, unsurprisingly, the ones spending money (and time) they can ill afford on bottles of formula for their newborns. I fully appreciate that mine was a very minor step forward for breastfeeding mothers, sat covertly feeding my two month old baby in my child-friendly cafe in my leafy suburb of London. The conflict I feel between my boobs as both sexual and child-nurturing objects (and, let's not forget, part of MY body) was eased in surroundings that were positive and welcoming to me and my baby. Had I taken that (for me) big step, only to have been scorned by onlookers, leered at or, worst of all, asked to leave the cafe, I imagine this might have sent me right back to hiding behind the curtains in my living room, stuck in the house for weeks on end. So next time you notice a woman breastfeeding her baby in a cafe, on the bus, in the pub, or anywhere else that her baby has decided is a dining area, know that however confidently she may be acting, it has quite possibly been very difficult for her to do so: breastfeeding takes balls. Give her space, give her respect, and, give her baby the chance to have one more vitamin-packed, bug-fighting, free feed. And here's the brilliant Hollie McNish saying this in a much better way:  |
| Posted: 07 Aug 2013 01:09 AM PDT
The Kairos Sleepout is a fundraising event where a team of staff, volunteers and Friends of Kairos Women Working Together (WWT) will be sleeping rough in a car park in Central Coventry. And they need more people to join them in raising vital funds by ‘sleeping out’ for the night. Kairos WWT supports women who are involved in sex work, or at risk of entering it in the Coventry area. They do this in a variety of ways, from giving food and clothing to the women they work with, to offering advocacy and advice. Currently Kairos supports around 40 women every month who are at risk of or subject to sexual exploitation. I spoke to Kairos’s project manager, Lucia Leon, to find out more about why they are raising money in this way, and what the funds raised are to be for. Why have you chosen to raise money in this particular way, rather than say, a sponsored walk or something similar? Kairos WWT aims to support, empower and give a voice to women at risk of or subject to sexual exploitation, including those caught up in sex work and those aspiring to leave it. Street-based sex workers are one of the most excluded and marginalised groups of homeless people and we wanted to run a fundraising event that was also about raising awareness about important issues that affect our service users. Many of our service users have experienced episodes of homelessness and difficulties obtaining or retaining accommodation. Our own research (2007) found that 70 per cent of our service users had experienced some type of housing difficulty and that, for most, this meant recurring or continual housing problems and that 25 per cent of our service users at that time had no fixed abode. The Sleep Out not only provides an opportunity to raise money for Kairos WWT but also to gain a small insight into what it is like to have to sleep on the streets. A report by Shelter (Off the Streets, 2004) highlighted the sobering risks associated with homelessness among female sex workers. The consequences of street homelessness for female sex workers are dire. These women face serious health problems, early mortality, violence, rape, and mental illness. The barriers that our service users are up against are vast and complex and it seemed fitting that a fundraising initiative to meet the needs of our service-user users should be a challenge and test our own resilience and resourcefulness. How does homelessness affect the women who Kairos WWT support? One of the biggest problems for female street sex workers in Coventry is the lack of appropriate, safe and supportive accommodation. Without stable accommodation, it is almost impossible for women to tackle the other barriers they might be facing, including their physical and mental health, lack of income, social exclusion and steps towards exiting sex work. In Coventry, there is a definite lack of suitable accommodation for females involved in sex work and/or drug use. Hostels and domestic-violence refuges often exclude sex workers because of their complex support needs. Crisis accommodation and specialist accommodation for sex workers in Coventry is much needed if women affected by street sex work are going to have the best chance of staying safe and exiting sex work. What will the funds raised be used for? We are approaching the final year of our current funding cycle, and like any charity we are dependent on a fundraising strategy to ensure our work continues within the community. While we are predominately funded through charitable trusts and foundations, we recently started a 12-month programme of fundraising activities to help meet the financial costs of the coming year and beyond… Kairos offers a range of services to women in Coventry including a Street Outreach and Drop-In Service, Prison Inreach, Floating Support, a women’s development group, a Befriending Scheme and a Protective Behaviours Project aimed at raising awareness of young people of issues around sexual exploitation. Our services are designed to meet the needs of our service-users at whatever stage they are in on their journey; from prevention, to harm reduction, to self-advocacy and exiting. All of our fundraising initiatives are to meet the needs of these services. How can people get involved? Friends of Kairos can participate in the Sleepout. We are holding the event on 24 August from 7pm to 7am on 25 August. Food and cardboard boxes will be provided to all participants. If people want to support Kairos, but don’t fancy the sleeping rough bit, how can they do so? We would be delighted with any sponsorship that could be raised in support of the Sleepout. We have a Big Give page where online donations can be made or we would be happy for people to contact the team with donations. For more information, call 02476 559550 or email here. The deadline to sign up for the Sleepout is 9 August. You can find out more here.  |
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