An Interview with Isotope Editor Christopher Cokinos
Melanie Domenech Rodríguez
CC: Sallie Tisdale says, “How we are rooted to the earth through our bodies determines how we see other bodies, and ultimately the earth itself.” As a psychologist, would you say this is in fact the case?
MDR: Yes and no. One thing that is evident in psychological research and theory is that people view others through their own lenses. A person suffering from depression will interpret a piece of abstract art from a “depressed” perspective, which would contrast with the interpretation of a person who is not experiencing symptoms of depression at the time. Our appreciation for our bodies often times hinges on our perceptions of beauty, both in mass media and those of the people that surround us. Models are especially influential when we can project ourselves onto them (e.g., same race). As such, how we see our bodies does in part determine how we see others’ bodies—your neighbor might look particularly thin after you’ve gained 10 lbs—but what we see, hear, and experience also affects how we see our bodies. I might feel fatter after perusing Vogue magazine. In addition to this bidirectional influence, there is also added complexity in how our perspectives change over time due to experience as well as how our perspectives change due to changes in the external environment. Many adult women share the experience of having been pregnant. While some women may be traumatized by the changes in their bodies, others may come to appreciate their bodies for their life-giving properties and be less concerned over time about meeting ideal standards of beauty. For a given woman, this intimate life experience may change how she’s rooted to her body and to the earth itself. External standards also change; Marilyn Monroe, Twiggy, Cindy Crawford, and Beyoncé have all represented ideals of beauty at one time or another. In short, I believe the process of “seeing” our own and others’ bodies as well as the earth, is a process in constant flux where influences are bidirectional.
CC: We’re so mobile and so much of America “looks the same,” that is, same stores, same gridlock, same products. Is that in a way like the standard model of beauty that gets foisted on us and so we’re less and less able to see the nuances of places just as we are less able to appreciate diversity of appearance, bodies, orientations?
MDR: The issue of place is a very interesting one. One can be almost anywhere in the U.S. and find pretty much the same resources. The same availability that makes a nation easier to navigate—we all know that Starbucks will prepare a half-caf, skinny, venti carmel latte no matter what plot of land it sits on—makes the nation less diverse and less interesting. The advantage is we can feel close to each other even when we’re geographically dispersed. A disadvantage is that the blinder that surrounds us as a nation becomes larger and more difficult to look around. Our magazines, television channels, and other media are primarily national. As such, the ideals of beauty and of healthy sexuality are transmitted at a national level. So JLo can be the coffee drink of the week, and she would be so at a national level. Interestingly this homogeneity of messages disallows polymorphous perversity. We are directed as to where and with whom to find sexual allure at a national level.
Indeed, the U.S. standard of beauty is not just a national issue, it’s an international issue. The dominance of U.S. media in global markets has delivered standards of beauty around the globe that are potentially being adopted in communities that are culturally very different from our own. It’ll be interesting to see where that leads us all in time.
CC: If we are caught between bodily shame and bodily pleasure, as Tisdale’s passage suggests, how might that act itself out in our attitudes toward each other and toward place?
MDR: I think most people live in that space but somehow manage it. For those in the most extreme crossroads, there is a substantial section developed in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders-IV outlining disorders of sexual nature, such as fetishes and paraphilias. I think people who are caught between intense shame and intense pleasure might find that they meet criteria for these disorders (either because they have a true impairment or because we have socially determined that certain behaviors, thoughts and feelings constitute an impairment). The issue of how this might act itself out is a very lengthy one. I’ll comment briefly. For example, a man may believe that women are objects intended to deliver pleasure to him. He might belittle and objectify women when indeed he might be masking shame about his feelings of inadequacy or concerns about his ability to make a woman feel pleasure. In gay, lesbian, transgender or bisexual individuals, these issues become even more complex because of social ostracism. Whereas for heterosexuals there is diffuse shame, social taboo, for persons of other sexual orientations there is open hostility. I would imagine the likelihood of being trapped between shame and pleasure would be for them much greater and much more difficult to tackle than for heterosexuals.
In regards to the role of place in this dynamic, I think what is most interesting is the homogeneity in landscapes across country makes it difficult for people to easily escape our social construction of beauty, sensuality and sexuality. Escape is one of our most essential coping mechanisms; when we do not have the possibility of escaping distressing contexts, we turn to other, oftentimes less healthy, coping techniques.
CC: Why do we have trouble talking about these matters? Tisdale says at the end of her passage, “This is what we never say.” Why?
MDR: I’m not sure where the trouble in talking about these matters originated, but I have some ideas as to how it is maintained. The social taboos around sex and sexuality are present in many cultures globally. Here in the United States it would not be terribly rare to find perfectly competent, verbally skilled adults talking about “getting some,” “getting lucky,” “doing the horizontal mambo,” or simply saying “y’know (nudge, wink).” The mere vocalization of the word “sex” leads otherwise dignified people to blush and stutter. The less we talk about something, the less we know how to talk about it. Our incompetence is reinforced by a society-wide avoidance of the topic. This incompetence is somehow reframed as reflecting good manners, modesty or decency. Of course, this is not limited to adults. We go further by disconnecting children from their bodies, and especially from any sexual feelings, from a very young age.
A beautiful playground example presented itself recently. A colleague and I were at the park with our two daughters, both around 3-and-a-half years of age. The two had played in the river and gotten thoroughly soaked and muddied. The girls, without even a hint of shame or concern, took all their clothes off (with the exception of underwear, by the request of their mothers who are already shaping them in the ways of “decency”) and continued playing in the park. In the same playground was a male child, not much older than the two of them, who looked at the girls with a mix of curiosity and horror. He proceeded to tell my colleague that the girls should not “be like that” because they could “get into trouble.” The child told the story of another girl at a park that was “like that” and was arrested. The fact that this child couldn’t even muster the word “naked” as a descriptor of the girls’ state was an interesting commentary on his own socialization and how it was unfolding at such an early age.
By the time children become adults they have very well-rehearsed scripts about the rules around bodily sensations and sensual experiences. Since the messages are so confusing, the scripts vary a great deal, but have one commonality: They are silent. And silence begets silence.
Responses from:
Tim Birkhead | Paisley Rekdal | Bruce Begemihl | Melanie Domenech Rodriguez | Dorianne Laux | David Shields | Gary Paul Nabhan