Why I Love TikTok...and Hate It

“Mommy, Mommy, do you want to see me dance?” my 7-year-old excitedly asks me. I nod and smile as she asks Alexa to play a song. She’s donning a half shirt that exposes her entire belly – an accidental purchase she’s thrilled to be sporting since she’s never allowed to wear it. Her huge, wild mane of red, curly hair surrounds her angelic, porcelain face. The music starts and so does she. Her body is up, down, moving fast, then slow. Her expressions are changing just as fast as her body movements. She looks surprised then shocked. There’s an artificiality in her varying smiles. She’s shaking her hips and half-mouthing the lyrics - which are becoming more explicit as the song goes on. When I recognize some moves from her dance class, I see glimpses of my little girl but it’s fleeting. I realize…she’s not dancing. She’s performing. When she’s finished, my outside voice tells her, “Wow, that was so…good.” while my inside voice asks, “What the hell was that?”

So cute…not.

I was first introduced to TikTok by my 11-year old daughter months ago when she showed me a funny lip sync video that her friends had made and sent to her. It was cute and innocent. At the same time, I’d heard stories about the misuse of this particular app and how it was causing problems among kids everywhere. My husband, wanting me to be more aware of the insidious nature of it, showed the app to me in more depth. The videos ranged from dumb to highly inappropriate, particularly for a child of any of our kids’ ages. After watching some of it, I quickly dismissed the app as “gross” and was thankful our 11-year-old wasn’t asking us to download it.    

Dancing Like No One’s Watching

Since then, I began noticing kids doing TikTok dances at swim meets and in stores. Basically, if there was a gathering of kids, there would inevitably be a TikTok dance happening at some point too. There wasn’t necessarily any music playing, which looked a bit odd to me at first. Kids would TikTok solo too. These sudden and spastic dance moves that would make TikTok into the cultural phenomenon that it is appeared so often in everyday life that it became as ordinary as a kid nibbling on her nails. The kids didn’t care about the fact that there was no music playing or that they were in public when they TikTok’ed. And I kind of loved that about it. We live in such a fast-paced, pressure-filled, image-obsessed, hurry-up/grow-up world and when the kids were goofing off doing their TikToks, I loved that they looked like, well…kids. 

In recent weeks, during our long, uneventful stint at home due to the coronavirus, my girls decided to teach me a TikTok dance. It was, surprisingly, a lot more fun and challenging than I thought it would be. While they taught me the dance (which ended up taking less than a minute to do but hours to learn), we laughed and laughed. It took more physical skill than I had expected, and worked things like hand-eye coordination, and muscle memory. After learning my first TikTok, I was giddy with accomplishment. I looked like a complete buffoon, but I got it done. I hadn’t worked out in a while and decided to count this as exercise. Winning. At the same time, I was amusing my kids. Winning again. I wanted to learn another one.

Research Findings

So, one night, unable to sleep, I reached for my phone and decided I’d surprise my kids by teaching myself another dance. Since I didn’t have the app, I started scrolling through TikTok dances on YouTube. In my quest to find the simplest one, I watched, for the first time, a lot of videos. The kids in them ranged in age from about 11 to 25. They made the dances look so easy, but for this 44-year-old mom, they were not. I unexpectedly found myself in awe of and impressed by these youngins. Like most social media apps and the internet in general, there was a lot of garbage amidst the gold. As I watched dance video after dance video, I was simultaneously delighted and disgusted. The girls and women dancing – almost every single one – had some portion of their torsos showing, from just a strip of skin to their entire stomachs. The dances were short, and many were suggestive. The girls and women of TikTok were beyond sexy.  Their moves - specifically designed to entice.  The longer I watched, it felt less and less like people were dancing for themselves, and more and more like they were dancing for someone else. It didn’t feel like there was any kind of authentic fun happening.  It felt staged, phony and airbrushed. And as I watched, I had this totally surreal epiphany. They reminded me of someone. My brain flashed to my 7-year-old daughter. Oh. OH! Ohhhhh. This is who she is imitating. This is why, every time she dances for me lately, she looks like she’s dancing for dollars. Holy Crap. Has she been watching these videos!?! But, wait, my kids don’t even have the app. (I know it sounds ridiculous, but it never even occurred to me that my littlest would be watching these videos by simply searching for them through the internet on the family iPad or my phone, just like I had done.) Oops. Gulp. Cue the guilt.      

Inappropriate but…

So, what’s a mom to do? Ban TikTok? But we were having so much fun! My 9-year-old son who was doing more observing than participating even joined in on learning our most recent dance. I watched as his big sister taught it to him. He listened patiently as she encouraged him. He got it down in just a few minutes (damn, these kids learn fast) and in that simple act of learning the dance, I saw him try and fail at something and keep trying and failing until he succeeded. And to witness that little glimmer of excitement and pride in his eyes as he gained mastery over something, well, my heart did a little dance of its own.

I’ve decided that many of the dance videos on TikTok aren’t appropriate for any of my kids but that doesn’t mean we can’t still watch some of the tutorial videos together and have discussions about them. If they want to watch some dances, I can make sure they are watching the “clean” ones that omit the explicit lyrics. I can also make sure they’re watching the ones that are done by kids closer to their age rather than the ones that are intentionally crafted for the male gaze. We can discuss which dances they like best and why. We can talk about the message(s) the dances and the songs might be sending about what it means to be female and male. We can discuss whether the dances on this platform are like the dances my girls are learning in their classes and how they are the same or different. We can talk about whether the people they know and love look like the people on the app and why or why not they think that is. The media our kids consume undoubtedly has the power to shape their malleable little minds as well as ours. Our intake of it matters and its impact on our feelings of happiness and self-worth shouldn’t be minimized. TikTok transformed my little girl into a provocative young adult and her grown-arse mother into a carefree child. It’s also taught me a thing or too, mainly that I have no short-term memory.  But, it also taught me to pay attention, to respect the seemingly “stupid” apps that my kids like, and to help them look at things with a critical eye rather than a judgmental one. I don’t know what tomorrow will bring but by God, I know that today, there will be dancing. 

The Hoarders and The Helpers: Who will YOU be during this crisis?

What a surreal time we are currently living in and how quickly things have changed from one day to the next.  My 7-year-old daughter was at a birthday party on March 13th and two days later, I opted not to send my son to one. 

Before the Virus

Before this virus confined us to our home, I remember thinking how frantic and loud life felt.  I found myself often longing for the time when I grew up - when we came home, did our homework, played, or found ourselves relying on our right brain to get us out of an excruciating bout of boredom.  When the word social was inextricably linked to physically getting together and had nothing to do with a device.  A time when extracurricular activities didn’t consume our every evening and weekend…when we picked up a sport at the age of 14 instead of 5 and we played that sport after school and during weeknights, which opened up our weekends for visiting grandparents and seeing our cousins.

And then the universe handed us this horrible virus and it made us (whether we wanted to or not) slow down and take a good hard look at our lives, our children, our spouses, and ourselves.      

At the Start of the Virus

While I was goofing off with my kids the other day, it occurred to me how lucky I was to be able to do just that.  For many, this isn’t an extended snow day.  Their source of income has ceased and there is no savings in the bank.  School districts have scheduled meal pickup sites for families who rely on school breakfasts and lunches to feed their children. People are dying from the virus (and also for reasons having nothing to do with the virus) in isolation without family and friends at their bedside.  Their funerals are being put on hold and as a result, families are grieving in isolation. 

In the beginning of all this, I was confused by the fact that the grocery store was almost all out of toilet paper.  We watched as people put not one but three - three - 20-pack packages of toilet paper into their carts.  Wait…why are people buying so much toilet paper?  It can’t be because of the Coronavirus, can it?  I texted my husband that I was going to hold off on buying toilet paper because we still had a few rolls left and they only had the super-soft, super-thick kind. (We are 1-ply people up in here.) This same day, I passed a local gun and ammunition shop.  A line of cars parked in front, across and down the street from the shop.  A line of men standing outside it.  What’s this gathering all about? It can’t be because of the Coronavirus, can it?  I came home and had this conversation with my husband.

Me: “Something is going on at that gun shop in town.  There was a long line of people standing outside and lots of people just milling about.”

Husband (matter of factly): “Yeah – people are stocking up.”

Me: “What…Wait…Why?”

Husband (surprised and kind of perturbed-sounding now): “What do you mean?  This is what happens with things like this.  People freak out.”

Me: “But…what do they need guns and ammunition for?”

Husband: No words.  He’s just staring at me now. 

(I think it’s important to note here that my husband is a police officer and as such, he encounters unique and disturbing situations on the daily that doesn’t make sense to most of us laypeople.)

At first, we were told COVID-19 wasn’t a big deal (here in the US anyway) and then we learned that it was, in fact, a big deal.  Schools shut down and then places of worship, restaurants, salons, gyms and stores followed.  And here we are now.  In our houses.  Trying to fill the days as best we can.  Scheduling time for classwork and fresh air for the kids.  Family time.  FaceTime.  Eating gluten-free chicken strips even though no one in the house is gluten-free.  More family time.  Napkin-less.  Gray hairs aplenty (on me, not the husband.) 

In the Face of The Virus

This crisis has shown me that when people are panicked and anxious and afraid, they will hoard.  There is no “we” or “us”.  It’s every man for himself.  This hoarding has left me totally taken aback.  People refusing to leave any paper products for the rest of us.  Or chicken.  They buy (a lot of) medical masks but they are not nurses or doctors or first responders.  They will even yell at you from across cash registers because you shouldn’t have brought your 5-year-old son out to the store “with the virus going around.”  (True story.)    

This crisis has also shown me that despite the panic and the uncertainty, people will figure out a way to help.  Instead of looking for the helpers, they become the helpers.  It’s the first responders in the medical and law enforcement fields.  But it’s also the everyday people.  People like my friend, Kelly who owns a shop that employs recovering addicts who changed the mission of her business from making designer handbags to making medical masks.  It’s a woman you recently met who took time out of her day to drop a book in your mailbox, so you had something new and exciting to read.  It’s the teacher who tells the overwhelmed, newly established home-schooling mom to just do the best she can and that whatever she does will be enough.  It’s the person who made the phone call that should have been made months ago.  It’s the blunt and truth-speaking friend that reminds you that “everyone on Facebook is a f*cking liar” after you tell her you feel like a complete failure because everyone is doing amazing things during this quarantine.  It’s the grocery store clerks who are potentially exposing themselves to the virus every day so we can buy rolls and rolls of toilet paper.

This whole thing is overwhelming.  It’s scary.  But, like the everyday helpers, we can each do our part.  Sometimes, it’s the small things in life that can be the most impactful.  We can stop the spread of the virus by washing our hands and staying in and away from people.  This means no meeting up at playgrounds – including those playgrounds right in our own neighborhoods.  We can not only point out the helpers to our kids but model what being the helper looks like. We can buy just one of the liquid hand soaps instead of all of the bottles that are left on the shelf.  We can write and mail a heartfelt letter of comfort to the family who lost their loved one.  We can have our kids use their sleeves to wipe their mouths and then practice gratitude for the fact that we can clean their dirty shirts in the washing machine that we own. 

After the Virus

When this is over and we return into the world again, we can go leave a stack of quarters in the local laundromat.  We can slip the grocery store clerk a homemade thank you note from our children.  We can visit a stranger in a nursing home who was alone before the virus and will be alone after it.  We can reflect on all the good that came from this crisis. 

Finally, if there is one thing we can all learn and do, it’s this.  Twenty rolls of toilet paper will last you about 20 weeks (or 4 and ½ months.)  For a family of five, this probably equates to more like 3 months.  Three months from now is June 29th.  So, as you shop this week, please go and put those two, 20-packs of toilet paper back on the shelf and leave some for the rest of us.

Learning During A Crisis

I recently posted a meme that pictured Karen Hill from the film, Goodfellas. It’s from the scene when Karen visits the apartment building of her husband’s mistress. In the scene, Karen has come undone. Her two young girls are holding her hand, looking up at her confused and wide-eyed as she slams the buzzers of every tenant in the building, yelling through the intercom system, even calling the superintendent, to let them all know that the woman in 2R - Janice Ross - is nothing but a…well…check it out when you can. It’s a powerful scene. Karen’s anger, stress, and unraveling came to mind after reading angry posts by (mostly) moms who are fired up about the amount of schoolwork being sent home during this crisis. Ok, their rage is on a much lesser scale than Karen’s, but it’s a meme.

This mom gets it. I’ve been so overwhelmed by the endless emails constantly coming home from the district and not just the school teachers but from the CCD and dance teachers as well. There are schedules to print and follow. Zoom calls to attend. There are a ton of links and passwords. There are the smiling children in my feed who are doing all the cool things that I need to do with my own kids. All of this combined with not being able to focus on my own work schedule and feeling anxious about the virus affecting people in my extended family and in the world around us. 

(Home)school is in Session…I think?

When this whole thing started and the schools decided to close, I feel like everyone (this includes the schools and myself) went into frantic mode. I received two weeks-worth of classwork for my 2nd grader and my 4th grader. (My 6th grader, who also received a large amount of work, was thankfully old enough to keep track of it and handle it on her own.) 

Then, at some point, we were told by the district that our spring break would be moved up and we’d use our unused snow days for this “time off.” I asked myself:  Do all these assignments need to be completed now or not? If it’s spring break, the kids get a break from schoolwork, don’t they?  I figured we’d get an email if the work that was posted didn’t have to be done. But that email never came and so I had my kids do what their teachers had initially sent them to do. My thought process was this: It looks like we are going to be in this house for a while. There are 12 hours in the day and these kids are going to need something to do. Schoolwork will help break up the day, and they’ll be learning at the same time. Maybe I’ll get some work done when they do theirs. It can be a good thing. 

Reality Sets In

Sitting with each of my kids to do the assigned classwork had to take place at different times since there’s only 1 of me, 2 of them, and 1 laptop. It ended up taking up large portions of the day. My work got pushed aside. I also wanted to make sure they got their down time because they were after all on spring break. Kinda. Sorta. Wait…were they? I didn’t really get if they were but nonetheless, they got their screen time. We went for walks. They taught me TikTok dances. We painted rocks. I fed them…again and again and again. We vegged. They played and fought. We painted more rocks. I did all that other stuff that comes with running a household like laundry, and cleaning toilets and floors. It was tough to keep up with all of it. The schoolwork was way more involved than I had expected. It was science projects. Videos with detailed questions. Math sheets. Elaborate writing assignments. Some of the things they could do on their own.  Much, I needed to assist them with or maybe I didn’t, but I felt compelled to. My 4th grader got most of my attention so the workload for my 2nd grader was put on the back burner and as a result, we quickly fell behind. I got anxious and annoyed. They got anxious and annoyed. I got resentful. What about my work - the work that helps pay the bills?   

The Email

During the course of all this, I sent an email to my youngest daughter’s teacher. I didn’t directly ask her if the work needed to be completed since technically - for all you Friends fans out there - “WE WERE ON A BREAK!” Instead, I mentioned that I was a bit overwhelmed by all of it. She wrote me back this:

I am sure it is quite overwhelming with all 3 kids and working from home for you. Just do the best you can as I am sure you are. You can be sure to have your child read each day (whether it be online or reading real books), work on some sort of math, and perhaps do some writing (a journal, personal narrative story, or nonfiction book) and this will be good. We have our shining star moments and not so great moments working with our own kids. At our home we have been doing 1 hour of “paper” academics, reading independently for 20 mins, and 1-hour iPad academics each day and I feel this is plenty. We are also having fun with arts and crafts and outdoor play! I hope you all are well!

And just like that, the load was lifted. My husband had been telling me to just forget about the classwork for days, but I needed to hear it from my daughter’s teacher. Upon receiving this email, I decided to let it all go. We did much of what was posted but not all of it. We did the best we could. It would have been nice if the initial assignments were more like what was mentioned in the above email rather than receiving 2-weeks-worth of detailed work that made my head spin with each new click of a document. But in reflecting on this with my husband, I realized school officials were just trying to do the best they could with the hand they were dealt…all on the fly. They were (and still are) trying to figure out how to go on with the every day – much like us and the rest of the world are trying to do. 

The Kids Will Be Alright

Some of our kids’ teachers are also parents. My one teacher friend has a baby and a toddler at home and is putting in a 16-hour day to meet the expectations of her district, students, their parents, and her own children. They have their own kids’ classwork to tend to and are trying to balance working from home just like us. They are preparing lessons, grading work, and trying to find creative ways to get our kids excited about learning remotely during a very scary time. They are writing long, detailed instructions for parents who are not tech savvy. They are answering emails from not one, but several panicky parents, like me. (Godspeed, teachers...Godspeed.)

Something else I came to realize? (Thank you, husband.) I never asked any of the teachers my most pressing question about whether the work was mandatory or optional and it was on my mind and irritating the hell out of me for weeks. I could have easily bypassed a lot of taxing moments with my children had I just asked the damn question. When I did finally ask, it was way after the fact. Shame on me. The bright side? Doing schoolwork right from the start of all this got my kids into a routine and set up some much-needed structure. Yesterday’s “official” first day of distance learning was completely painless for all of us.  

I’m going to wrap up this post with an obvious reminder that is very worthy of mentioning…again. We are currently living in a state of crisis. We are experiencing something as a nation that we have never experienced before. The uncertainty of it all is unnerving. The world is on pause and as such, we are all going through similar situations and are going to be in the same place - at varying levels of severity - when we come out of this. We are learning as we go and need to cut each other some slack. It’s a high stress time for everyone. Nothing will run as smoothly as we want it to. We need to try to relax, breathe, and be patient with the new order of things – or the lack thereof. I know this is all easier said than done. I’m writing these words because I need to hear them myself, more than anyone else.

Crises have the power to make us unravel. We become Karen Hill and the school administrator becomes Janice Rossi. We are afraid and so we rant and vent while our kids are standing there listening. Karen was afraid of losing her husband. What are we afraid of losing when it comes to our children and their education? Are we nervous about losing our jobs because we can’t get to our own work? Our sanity? Are we afraid of our kids losing themselves? Are we willing to let it all go and decide for ourselves what is best for them? Are we willing to speak up to their teachers in an honest and diplomatic way? As we navigate this new role of teacher, we have to remind ourselves to just do the best we can. Our kids will be okay.  They will learn what they need to learn whether they complete all the assignments or not. For a control freak like me, realizing this has been a challenging learning experience. When we look back at this time, the grades our kids received aren’t going to matter. But the way we interact with them and with the people who are trying to help us teach them will.

The 2020 Super Bowl Halftime Show

My family and I were rooting for the Chiefs to win on Sunday. We got our win.  We also saw history in the making with Katie Sowers on the San Francisco sideline.  Another, even bigger, win.  And speaking of history-making women, we had two Latinas, who also happened to be over the age of 40, performing in the Superbowl halftime show.  A third win…or was it?

Almost a week after the big game, our social media feeds are still abuzz - full of different opinions about the infamous show, ranging in comments full of praise and awe to shame and outrage.  For this football coach, daughter of immigrants, and mom to 3 young children, I found it to be both inspiring and utterly disappointing.

The Highs…and Lows

The performance captivated people for a number of reasons. In JLo’s and Shakira’s performance, we saw pride-filled nods to Latino and American culture. Many have said the performance also made nods to the Arab world and digs at Trump’s immigration policy.  When JLo’s daughter and the all-girl choir took the stage, I know I felt the hope-filled promise of an inclusive, female-led future.  Aside from the beautiful Latin dancing by both performers, we got to see Shakira’s multi-talented musical abilities as she raged on the guitar and drums. I was excited to see the black and brown faces of the female dancers who took over the stage with a powerful Afro-Columbian-inspired dance. Yes, there were so many elements of diversity and female empowerment to this performance, except when it came to the same, old, tired, objectification of women thing.

It was this blatant objectification that had me shook. It was the sexism not the sex. The bending over so we, the viewer, is made to focus on one part of a woman’s body. It was the deliberate crotch shots.  It was watching, for the umpteenth time, the hardly dressed female artist with a fully dressed male artist gawking approvingly at her shaking bootie.  It was the pole. With all of JLo’s talents, and with a show that featured an all-girl choir, did the pole even have to make an appearance?  I know, I know – the pole in recent years is something we women have tried to reclaim. I was one of the many who checked out the pole dancing classes when they were presented to us as a killer, empowering workout.  But here at the halftime show, the pole was presented to us yet again as the played out male fantasy.  The one significant difference was that the pole dancer was 50 instead of 20.

The Normalness of Objectification

The thing that got me most disheartened were the remarks made by some female commentators – from the professionals on NPR to the every day moms in my Facebook feed.  Women of all ages, races, and socio-economic backgrounds seemed to largely agree on one constant thing.  The outfits and overtly sexualized dancing were no big deal and were to be expected, especially considering who was performing.  “Sex sells”, they said.  “It’s the nature of the entertainment industry.”  Here within lies the problem - the objectification of women being minimized - because we are simply used to it.  I am not here to admonish sex or sexuality.  It’s the commodification of women that perturbs me.  The image of ropes around Shakira’s wrists being portrayed as sexy.  It’s the overt sexual nature of performances like these that takes the sexiness right out of them.  JLo and Shakira are sexy and there’s nothing wrong with that.  Music is sexy.  Dance is sexy.  Throwing a tight spiral (to me anyway) is sexy.  But when girls and boys see these same sexualized images of women again and again, what is it telling them it means to be female and male? These images have the power to shape our ideas, thoughts, feelings, and even actions.

Would dressing these performers like Amish people (as Pink recently joked about on Instagram) solve the problem?  Of course not.  The problem is not in the outfits as much as it’s in where the camera takes the viewer’s eye.  I love seeing women running the show.  Teaching girls about powerful women that overcome adversity is my jam actually.  But it didn’t feel at all like JLo and Shakira were the ones running this show and the performance (as a whole anyway) is definitely not something I would use to illustrate female empowerment to the girls I teach.

It’s Not About Hating on Women (or Men)

Or Latina women for that matter.  Because the degradation of women does not discriminate.  It happens across all cultures.  Two strong, talented, influential Latina women who overcame sexism and racism, whose cultural backgrounds are rich with tradition, music, dance, family, and pride is something to be celebrated.  I’m not hating on Shakira or JLo.  I’m hating on a culture that simultaneously lifts women up as it tears them down. It’s the conflicting messages that were in the performance all at once – that our greatest strength as women lies in our sexuality.  Can we lift up two hard-working, successful women without also lifting them up as sex objects? Because when we see women as sex-crazed stereotypes, their power, their talents, and their message gets lost. 

Props to JLo and Shakira.  Yes, they look great.  Consistently working out is admirable and the results – feeling and looking sexy - can be empowering, even transforming.  I realize it’s in their job description to look good.  They, like all of us, should be entitled to wear whatever they want.  And this is exactly my point.  For women, from the multi-billion, dollar diet industry to the booming plastic surgery industry, it’s always about our bodies and what they look like.  So much of our worth lies in our appearance or at least that’s what we are told over and over again, starting when we are little girls.

And men, alone, are not the problem when it comes to this topic of oversexualizing women. They were raised in a culture where ideas about masculinity were and still are very narrow. We know that most men out there in the world are good guys. They are our fathers, husbands, colleagues, friends, and our brothers who care deeply about the women and girls in their lives. The objectification of women hurts them in a myriad of ways too - ways that are rarely talked about.

Adam Levine & the Cheerleader Argument

Yes, he took off his shirt during his performance and there was no uproar about it.  Because Adam Levine doesn’t live in a world where men’s looks and bodies are constantly being analyzed, judged, and demeaned.  And the comments about nothing being said about the scantily clad cheerleaders? Well, something should be said (and by the way, not every team has a squad.)  The comparison between them and the Super Bowl halftime show’s portrayal of women is valid and worthy of critique.  However, there is one major difference between the two. The cheerleaders are literally on the sideline during games.  Unlike, the hyped-up halftime show, they are never a major focal point of the game. They are an afterthought.  The crowd is literally looking past them to where the action lies - on the field.  This speaks volumes not only to their objectification but to their purpose as a whole. 

The “You didn’t have to watch it” Argument

Parents are being told that they didn’t have to watch or let their kids watch the show - as if shutting off the TV will make our kids immune to the images that were presented to them.  My 11-year-old daughter, 9-year-old son, and 7-year-old daughter were watching because it was 8:30pm.  And we are football fans. And we were having a Super Bowl party.  And we were excited to share in the highly anticipated celebration that has become the halftime show.  And I’m also the founder of a football program for little girls that teaches them about things like using their voice, inclusion, and bravery so I was particularly excited to see two strong women of color headlining this year’s show.  But yeah, we didn’t have to watch.  I had my reservations of course but I ended up giving in to my kids because well sometimes that happens and oh yeah, it was the Super Bowl and they were excited.  And as I watched, there was no real surprise there as to what I saw.  I knew what to expect when I heard who the headliners were. I knew the outfits would be what they were and the hyper-sexualization of women would be there.  But I was hoping for more.  In this performance, we got such incredible glimpses of what could have been. The all children choir. The beauty that is Latin culture.  Women of color seen for their whole, multi-dimensional selves, rather than for just their body parts. 

Changing the Narrative 

To have my kids surrounding me watching the halftime show was weird for lack of a better word.  I can’t stop thinking about the story that was being told to them about what it means to be female (and male).  When I asked my 11-year-old daughter what she thought about the show, she said she liked the dancing but some of it was “uncomfortable” to look at.  We adults have normalized so much of the sexualized images of women that they hardly shock us anymore. But, make no mistake these images shape the narrative. When boys and girls constantly see and hear women celebrated and honored and raised up for what their bodies look like (and how good women look “for their age”), our greatest asset continues to be what we look like.  Our bodies become a thing to look at, to admire, to watch, and sometimes, even when you don’t have our permission – to touch.  JLo and Shakira were dancing non-stop, singing (somewhat), playing instruments, commanding attention to political issues and to a culture rich with beauty and tradition.  This was more than enough.  That other degrading stuff?  There was simply no need for it.

One of my favorite mommy bloggers made this point:  “My husband pointed out the purity standards these women are being held to [and the fact that] no one is raising the standards for the number of men in the NFL who go home and beat their wives or worse. Some butt wagging and the Internet is outraged. But wife beatings are their own business.  Oh the double standards.” Yes, there are double standards and we should be outraged by all of them.  I find myself outraged on a regular basis with the NFL.  Their response (or lack thereof) to their players’ criminal histories off the field has been atrocious.  But make no mistake the “butt wagging” that has some of us fired up is deeply connected to this issue of men’s violence against women.  When women being viewed as objects in performances like these are seen as insignificant, the problem that is rape culture persists.  The dehumanization of a person often leads to violence against that person.  Violence against women is rooted in sexism. There is sexism all around us – in commercials, movies, memes, on YouTube, in songs, in a friend’s joke, in a Coach’s “encouraging” words, on billboards, in magazines, in apps, on city buses and in Super Bowl halftime shows - and we must not overlook it.  It is not some trivial, minor thing.

I am indeed holding female entertainers to a higher standard, but I’m also holding the producers of the halftime show, Roger Goodell and the NFL, its players, and all of us - students, teachers, coaches, and parents to a higher standard.  I read somewhere that the league was looking to become a more culturally inclusive organization, that they are even taking a stand against sex trafficking. Perhaps having a halftime show that doesn’t demean women – at all – would be a good place to start?

Whether you loved the 2020 Super Bowl halftime show or hated it, it presented us with an opportunity.  The opportunity to speak to our kids about how women (and men) are depicted in media, how men (and women) are being made to perceive those depictions, and how they compare to who men and women are in real life.