Monday, December 14, 2009

Excuse Me, But I Think Your Bias Is Showing


I ran across two things on the internet today that seemed to resonate, and sent my train of thought on a cross-country haul. So I'll re-trace the journey here.

Thing the first: This blog entry by one James Chartrand. The funny thing about James is that he's a woman. "James" is a pen name, an identity the writer assumed when she found she wasn't getting the work she wanted as a freelance writer. In this entry, James outs herself and explains the reasoning behind her decisions.

Thing the second: This NPR broadcast which features a study by Emily Sands, in which "surprising" gender biases are revealed in the theater community. Surprising is in scare quotes there because I'm not sure how surprising it actually is.

If you live on the planet Earth, you have had to think about gender bias. If you are a woman, you have had to think about it frequently. If you are a woman trying to succeed in male-dominated industry, you would probably give your firstborn in exchange for not having to think about it. So in some ways, a story like James' is not surprising. People do have biases, and they are in some ways unavoidable. Does it suck that one has to hide their identity in order to get more money for the same work? Yes, yes it does. But I'm not really sure what to do about it.

The premise of the study by Emily Sands was to send out identical script samples to male and female artistic directors throughout the country, with some scripts having a male playwright listed as the author, and others having a female playwright. (The samples were in fact written by Pulitzer Prize-winning Lynn Nottage.) But here's the interesting part: while all artistic directors rated the script's quality equally well, the females gave it lower marks on the sections that asked about how well the script would be received by the theater community. One is made to wonder whether the female artistic directors have less faith in women playwrights, or whether they are simply being more realistic about the chances that the work has. They, having faced the monster of gender bias, know full well that the script with the female author has less of a chance to be produced. To what extent these artistic directors are creating a self-fulling feedback cycle was not addressed in the study. I'd also be curious to know what sort of theaters were asked to rate these scripts. Does the bias change when the sample set is just major regional theaters? Do small groups like the Neo-Futurists have a similar bias?

After reading both of these articles, I began thinking also about how they relate to ethnic bias. I recall vividly certain blog entries from a playwright friend of mine who has had trouble finding the elusive "stable day job." Having a foreign name, he must constantly wonder if his reusme is being sent straight to the circular file because of ethnic bias. Would he get more responses if his name were Bill, or Sam? Would he feel awful sending out resumes with a false "nickname"? Would interviewers feel tricked when he showed up with a decidedly brown face? Possibly.

I do feel that ethnic bias is perhaps a more complicated beast than gender bias. It taps into the kind of in-group/out-group thinking that was a survival necessity for our recently evolutionary ancestors. When we consider working with someone, we want to be sure we can communicate with them, joke with them, that they have a similar work ethic, cultural values, etc. These are the things that are hard to put on a resume. Perhaps in the future we'll all have video resumes so that employers can put a face to a name and get a sense of personality. But that's a minefield all its own.

Wednesday, December 9, 2009

In The Pines


I walk off the bus from Detroit directly into the midst of Chicago winter. It's not what I'm expecting, to tell the truth. When I left town it was still coat-and-hat weather. This temperature, on the other hand, requires the full breadth of winter accouterments. But I haven't packed those. So I shoulder up my burdens, trusting the strain of walking to keep me warm, and stride headlong into the wind whipping down Canal Street.

As I move south tiny snowflakes begin to fall and I think of whiskey and fireplaces, and my current demonstrable lack of both those things. Whiskey and fireplaces feel like home. My apartment does not feel like home, it feels familiar. Which is not at all the same. Eventually I make it to the train and there is the picking-up and putting-down of bags that always accompanies travel through public transit systems. And there is the waiting, and the avoidance of grifters and homeless and con-men and guitar players. But parking tickets are too expensive, among the many other reasons.

My key turns in the lock, click. The bags go on the brown thing. The mail goes on the desk. The clock says it is too late to be awake when you have to go to work tomorrow. Here it is, me and the cats, same old life. I sometimes cannot believe I have been here three and a half years. Other times I very much can, and it makes me want to rip things apart. But. Keep calm and carry on.

Wednesday, December 2, 2009

Buckle up, we're about to turn the engines on


This is going to be a mish-mash. A jumble, if you will. A list of loosely connected things. It has been a busy November and that trend looks like it will continue until mid-January at least. My thoughts are all a bit squibbly.

Firstly: My brother got married! Weird, yes. I know. He is 22 and has a house and a wife. This is unfamiliar to me. But the wedding was great and I'm sure there are embarrassing pictures of me in a nice tux floating around somewhere. And get this: they had a photo booth. An honest-to-God portable instant photo booth. Two sets of four tiny pictures! Color or B&W! Your choice! The world does not cease to amaze me.

More travel coming up. Detroit this weekend, and then Louisville again for Christmas. I don't mind it, though it is sometimes frustrating finding someone to watch the cats. I have too many cats.

I'm starting a writing group with Clift. We are getting together people from various Neo-Futurist classes and instituting a bi-weekly writing assignment which will be followed by in-person feedback and criticism. I'm hoping it goes well. I haven't done this sort of thing before, but I feel good when I'm writing, so I want to keep doing it.

In other Neo-Futurist news, the next prime-time season was picked. I don't know if I'm allowed to divulge the choices here, so I won't. Let me just say - very exciting things are coming. In order to prepare yourself, please watch this sad video about a dog. Because excitement should always be balanced by melancholy.

I ordered glasses online. Where are they, Zenni Optical? Where? And did I measure my pupilary distance correctly? Please let me know.

Lastly, a public service announcement. As we approach the seriously cold and nasty part of winter, consider your health and the health of your friends, family, and complete strangers you sit next to on the bus. Get your seasonal flu vaccine. Get the H1N1 if you can, although it's being rationed due to demand. And if you find yourself at all swayed by the McCarthy/Carrey squad, take a look here and here.

Lastly, for reals: I think I'm going to have a birthday party next month. I usually don't, but for some reason I feel compelled. I'm shooting for January 16th, which is also the 224th anniversary of the Virginia Assembly's adoption of Jefferson's Statute for Religious Freedom, which forms the basis of our modern concept of separation of church and state. How's that for a party theme? Yes, "pretty awesome" is the correct answer. Mark your calendars.