stereotypes | Race, Class, and Gender

Woman First, Athlete Second

Participation in female athletics has skyrocketed in the past two decades and continues to be on the rise. The passing of Title IX in 1972 required all federally funded programs, including athletics, to provide equal treatment and opportunity for participation for men and women. High schools and public universities subsequently were required to spend equivalent amounts of time and money for male and female athletes (Curtis & Grant, 2001). Because of this law, more women began to participate in athletics. In 1971, only 1 in 27 girls participated in high school athletics, whereas in just 20 years, 1 and 3 girls participated (Women’s Sports Foundation, 1998).

Although female athletic participation increased, the media still objectifies their bodies. The popular magazine, Sports Illustrated, portrays male and female athletes very differently. In 1997, Sports Illustrated started using female athletes in the Swimsuit Edition. This had the potential to show the athleticism of female athletes. Instead, female athletes are posed exactly like fashion models; they show no athleticism in their photos. Similar to models, female athletes are portrayed to showcase their looks rather than their athletic talent.

Psychologists Barbara Fredrickson and Tomi-Ann Roberts proposed a theory explaining why women are portrayed as sex objects. The objectification theory proposes that women’s bodies are looked at, evaluated, and always potentially objectified. They believe people view women as bodies and evaluate them through a sexual gaze, specifically for their own pleasure. The American culture spotlights women’s bodies and body parts, causing viewers to have an implicit sexual gaze. The pictures in Sports Illustrated, in particular, show how the media targets women’s bodies for sexual objectification significantly more than men’s bodies (Fredrickson & Roberts, 1997). A previous study compared the female athletes in Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Edition to the models in the same issue within 4 categories: photo location, hand placement, body pose, and facial expression. Researchers found few differences. They also discovered that female models were underrepresented in general coverage and over represented as sexual objects (Kim & Sagas, 2014).

Building upon this study, I looked at seventeen issues of Sports Illustrated, ranging from December 2015 to April 2016. Of these seventeen issues, five had women on the covers. Of these five, three were female athletes and two were models (swimsuit editions). The covers that were female athletes portrayed minimal athletic ability and depicted more femininity. Descriptions of the pictures are as followed:

Help me, Ronda?

The May 2015 issue has UFC fighter, Ronda Rousey, on the cover. Around her says “Worlds Most Dominant Athlete.” She is in fighting attire. However, her blow-dried, long, light brown hair is down and placed perfectly around her face. In the picture, she has on light pink lip-gloss, her cheeks are perfectly blushed, her stomach is showing, and her breasts are visible. On the page of the article, she is dressed in a short, navy blue skirt, a white, laced, see through shirt, and high, strappy, red heels. She has on bright red lipstick, and has her hair down in a more messy fashion. Her hand is on her hip, like a teenage girl often does, her back is arched so her breasts stick out, and she is stepping on strong men who are on the ground. In the corner of the image it says, “Help me, Ronda?”

“We got this dance.”

The March 2016 issue has University of Connecticut’s women’s basketball player, Breanna Stewart, on the cover. She wears black eyeliner and mascara. Her long, straightened, reddish-brownish hair is down. Her eyebrows are perfectly arched and photo shopped to complement her face. Her hand is also on her hip, and she is wearing earrings. A basketball sits on her arm. Her blue eyes pop right out of the page and right above her, the words, “we got this dance” are shown. Last time I checked, basketball had nothing to do with a dance.

Tennis in a leotard?

Lastly, in the December 2015 issue, the cover shows “Sportsperson of the year,” Serena Williams. This picture shows no signs of athleticism; rather it shows multiple signs of femininity. Serena is posed to seduce the reader. Her long, black, shiny hair is perfectly curled; she has on dark red lipstick and has pink blushed cheeks. She wears a black, laced, partly see though leotard with black high heels. She sits sideways in the chair; one leg is up over the armrest, and the other is on the floor. Her legs are extremely shiny. Her face is seductive, serious and her cheekbones are very defined. The article is about her tennis ability…yet the picture has nothing to do with tennis.

I bring these examples to your attention because on every other magazine cover, there is a picture of a male athlete. These pictures are all action photos of the male playing his sport, showing masculinity, athleticism, and strength. Female athletes, on the other hand, are depicted as weak, feminine, sexy, and having no athletic ability.

What is the big deal…?

Depicting female athletes as sex objects reinforces gender stereotypes and stresses femininity rather than athleticism. The media already creates false expectations of female beauty with models. These gendered images and expectations can harm younger girls’ mental and physical health. In a study conducted by Fredrickson and Harrison (2003), sport magazine reading led to increased body shame and disordered eating for adolescent girls. Adolescent boys have plenty of athletic male role models to look up to, due to how they are portrayed by the media. Female adolescents, however, see the skinny, perfect looking models all over the media and think that is who they should look up to. How about we start providing real role models for young girls to idolize.

When a Compliment Isn’t a Compliment

“Asians have great skin. That’s why they look so young! You’ll love that when you’re older.”

I became self conscious of how young I looked when I was sixteen because that was when people started to make me aware of it. Their comments were meant to make me feel good about myself. Instead, I grew uncomfortable with how I looked, wondering if my perceived immaturity affected what people thought of me. As a twenty year old today, I’m surprised when someone says I look my age without any makeup on. The comments that people thought were harmless and flattering actually made me sometimes wish I was not Asian. Then, maybe I would not be infantilized. Thinking that Asian women looked younger than other races is an example of a positive stereotype that has negative consequences for both the stereotyped person and the person perceiving it as a compliment. Positive stereotypes do more harm than good to everyone involved.

A positive stereotype is a subjective “belief that attributes a favorable characteristic to a group” and implies an advantage because of your association with that group (Czopp, Kay, and Cheryan 2015; Lombrozo 2015). Negative stereotypes differ in that they associate negative traits with a group. Here are some common examples of both:

Positive Stereotypes vs. Negative Stereotypes

Asians are good at math vs. Asians are socially awkward

Women are nurturing vs. Women are emotional and irrational

Positive stereotypes do not seem so bad next to explicit prejudice. But positive stereotypes categorize an entire group of individuals based on an external characteristic, showing that even with a “positive” connotation, a stereotype is still a stereotype (Czopp, Kay, and Cheryan 2015).

Being positively stereotyped can lead to various negative unintended consequences. Because your identity is reduced to racial stereotypes, positive stereotypes can lead to feelings of depersonalization (Czopp, Kay, and Cheryan 2015; Siy and Cheryan 2013). When you feel as if your individuality is taken away, negative emotions such as hostility, anger, and annoyance result (Siy and Cheryan 2013). Another consequence is that the stereotype target is likely to think the other person also has negative stereotypes about them, and therefore will think that person is prejudiced (Czopp, Kay, and Cheryan 2015; Kay, Day, Zanna, and Nussenbaum 2013). The scary thing about positive stereotypes is that they can actually make this true.

Changing stereotypical beliefs requires knowing that they are incorrect and biased. But if you perceive positive stereotypes as compliments, you may continue to believe in them (Czopp, Kay, and Cheryan 2015; Kay, Day, Zanna, and Nussenbaum 2013). Additionally, thinking about positive stereotypes triggers the brain to think of other stereotypes, including negative ones. It also contains an implicit understanding that differences between your group and another’s is biological. Basically, even though positive stereotypes seem like compliments, they can actually lead to negative judgments about the target group and even discrimination, which is why they can be so damaging to society. (Kay, Day, Zanna, and Nussenbaum 2013; Medlyn 2013).

Although positive stereotypes seem relatively harmless, they have subtle, detrimental consequences. The next time you want to compliment someone on something you think is due to their race, instead try saying something positive about their individual features. I guarantee they will appreciate that more. The bottom line is, it is always better to attribute a positive aspect of someone to who they are as an individual, rather than saying they were born with it. Hopefully, being aware of how stereotyping makes someone feel will make the next person refrain from saying that I’ll appreciate their stereotypical comment when I’m older.

Hillary’s Hurdle: The Effects of Gender and Sexism on Professional Women

Hillary Clinton might lose the presidency, and even the nomination, because she is a woman. Among Sanders’ fans who support him with militant millennialism, or Trump supporters who talk about women as if they were dogs, this statement will likely be written off. I might be seen as another worried supporter crying sexism to distract from the actual shortcomings and missteps of Clinton’s campaign. But call off the Berniebots and silence the Trumpeters, because I aim not to qualify my decision to vote for Hillary nor to challenge yours not to. Pointing to professional gender norms and the role of sexism in the media, I aim instead to trace Hillary’s backlash to her gender performance, illustrating the double binds that obstruct paths to success by holding professional women at higher standards than their male counterparts.

Performing gender doesn’t happen in a social vacuum. It happens, rather, in a world of social hierarchies and pressures that enforce expectations and consequences of performance. Women and men are held to different standards of self-presentation, with male-associated behavior more suited for professional success. Tyler Okimoto and Victoria Brescoll’s (2010) study of women in power shows that ambitious women tend to engender feelings of anger and contempt from their male counterparts. These feelings likely come from the cultural understanding of women as “communal”- kind, sensitive and caring, and men as “agentic”-aggressive, competitive, and assertive. Women in public leadership positions who exhibit behaviors not traditionally associated with their gender often risk backlash, even if these behaviors are necessary for their job or position. This theory gains credence from a 2008 study in which male and female participants both “assigned less status” to women who exhibited competitiveness, strong leadership styles, authoritative rhetoric, and ambition (note that each of these characteristics are intrinsic to the demeanor of a president).

Gendered expectations force women to do intense identity work to prove their qualifications and capabilities both as a woman and as a professional. As a result, women can “easily cross the line and appear to be insufficiently feminine- that is, not “nice” enough” (Carroll 2009, 6). Sociologist Rosabeth Moss Kanter comments on this dynamic in her work on gender and tokenism, laying out four common stereotypes and associated identities forced upon professional women. Three of these four identities are markedly feminine (the seductress, mother, and pet), while one bares masculine undertones (the iron maiden). The latter is implicitly critical, using masculine imagery to shame strong women. This unfairly places women into roles they may or may not identity with, since “women inducted into the iron maiden role are stereotyped as tougher than they are (hence the name) and trapped in a more militant stance than they might otherwise take” (Kanter 984, 1977).

Viewed by many as an iron maiden, Clinton bears harsh attacks for her perceived lack of femininity. As articulated by Diana B. Carlin and Kelly Winfrey, in the 2008 race, “both Clinton’s physical appearance and her choice of pantsuits over skirts and dresses were the source of considerable derision.” Public figures speak often and sharply of Clinton’s appearance. Rush Limbaugh in 2008 contrasted Clinton with Sarah Palin by saying that Clinton is “not going to remind anybody of their ex-wife, she’s going to remind men, ‘Gee, I wish she was single’’ (Carlin and Winfrey 2009, 331, 338). The double standard therefore extends to the media by creating a platform to judge men on a basis of merit while women, as illustrated by Limbaugh’s statement, are judged by personality, physical attractiveness, and gender performance. FOX news contributor Tucker Carlson once said of Hillary: “when she comes on television, I involuntarily cross my legs.” This statement directly paints Clinton as a danger to men everywhere, reinforcing the harmful characterization of powerful women as threats to male-dominated institutions.

Journalists bear equal blame for negatively reporting on Clinton’s gender performance. Prominent amongst these pen-yielding mudslingers is New York Times columnist Maureen Dowd, whose scathing columns boil to the brim with sexist sentiment. In a 2015 column, Dowd described Clinton as a “granny” who should learn to “campaign as a woman.” Dowd, who once called Clinton “the manliest candidate,” later criticized her as over-feminizing, stating that she “should have run as a man this time.” From these wildly offensive (and contradictory) statements to the claim the Hillary “killed feminism,” Dowd and reporters like her use Hillary’s sex as a weapon of slander and hate, harming public perception by shaming her non-hegemonic gender performance.

Some media sexism comes in abrasive and obvious forms, like calling Hillary “shrill” or “bitchy,” but the majority of it comes by subtly addressing female candidates with less respect than their male opponents. As discovered in Joseph Uscinski and Lilly Goren’s 2010 study of the 2008 Democratic Primary, both sexes tend to call men by their titles and women by their first names. In the 2008 primaries, Clinton was referenced in newspaper coverage “by first name 3 percent more [than opponent Barack Obama) and her title of Senator was omitted 15 percent more.” On television, Clinton was referenced by first name four times more than Obama was. These seemingly minute and peripheral statistics actually resonate deeply within the dynamics of a campaign. As Uscinsi and Goren (2010) found, “referencing a woman by a first name may project an image of inferiority to the audience.” The media therefore disadvantages Clinton not only through overt sexism, but by subtly painting her as a less viable candidate.

Hillary Clinton is, and always has been, a polarizing figure. Her long career of spotlight scrutiny left her seasoned with scars, dividing the American public sharply between champions and critics. As a fellow on Clinton’s campaign who spent months canvassing door-to-door, I heard time and time again that people like her policies but not her personality, her vision but not her voice, her ideas but not her identity. These criticisms come largely from those who see Hillary as a threat to hegemonic gender norms, and who watch, unsettled, as she every day cuts cracks in the glass ceiling not with a stiletto or kitchen knife, but with her own two hands. We need to stop pretending that the playing field is level. Like it or not, Hillary Clinton is not a man. She’s a woman (a strong woman), and it’s time we stopped punishing her for it.

Whiteout: The Social Roots of Oscar Glory

A nervous energy filled the Beverly Hills theater on the morning of January 14, 2016, as agents and reporters sipped coffee, made predictions, and rubbed sleep from their eyes. It was a lull before the storm, the very seconds before the announcement of the 88th Academy Award nominations. For a moment, Hollywood stood united, excited and prepared to honor the most spectacular achievements in film. But when the four presenters stepped onstage and began to speak, all sense of unity disappeared.

For the second year in a row, all of the nominees were white. Moments after the 5:30 A.M. announcement, the hashtag #OscarsSoWhite began to trend on Facebook and Twitter. Actress Jada Pinkett Smith took to Twitter to call for a boycott, causing Mark Ruffalo (nominated for his work in ‘Spotlight’), George Clooney, David Oyelowo, Lupita Nyong’o, and Matt Damon (nominated for ‘The Martian’) to similarly admonish the lack of diversity in awards shows. Even Saturday Night Live joined in, airing a sketch in which the “best actor” trophy was awarded to “all white guys” (Oswald 2016).

Charlotte Rampling, nominated for her work in “45 Years,” sang a different tune, commenting that all performances should be judged equally and that “maybe black actors didn’t deserve to be in the final stretch.” Rampling found herself within minutes labeled as insensitive and prejudiced. To many, Rampling’s statement only validated the claim that Hollywood is inherently racist, and that changes must be made (Sage 2016).

So who is right? Is the Academy comprised of racists, as Jada Pinkett Smith suggests? Or is Rampling correct in suggesting that this year’s minority performances were subpar? A close study of the voting Academy and of the film industry as a whole reveals truths in the arguments of both Smith and Rampling.

The nominations are less surprising (but no less noteworthy) with an understanding of Academy demographics. In 2012, the median age was 62, with voters under 50 years of age making up only 14% of the Academy (this makes voters less likely to support a profane film like “Straight Outta Compton”). In 2012, the Academy was a staggering 94% Caucasian, with African-Americans comprising only 2% of voters, suggesting a fundamental racial inequality of representation. (Horn, Sperling, and Smith 2012). The Academy is therefore what sociologist Rosabeth Moss Kanter would describe as a “skewed” group, containing “a large preponderance of one type (the numerical “dominants”) over another (the rare “tokens.)” Kanter’s theory of tokenism holds that interactions and perceptions inevitably form around stereotypes imposed by the majority and sometimes accepted by the minority. This subconscious racism applies directly to voting biases and their roots (Kanter 1977).

The problem is both with the “skewed” Academy and with a shallow, white-dominated industry. Minority actors are often given the spotlight only to portray characters which are either underdeveloped or shaped by harmful stereotypes. For example, many black actors fall into type casting, playing maids or slaves. This underscores Kanter’s aforementioned theory that minorities tend to accept imposed stereotypes. University of Connecticut professor Matthew Hughey discusses this phenomenon in his book The White Savior Film, focusing on films where a “white messianic character saves a lower- or working class, usually urban or isolated, nonwhite character from a sad fate,” using Oscar-winning examples like “To Kill a Mockingbird” (1962) and “The Blind Side” (2009).

Portrayals of black characters as poor and in need of saving only reinforce a harmful and historically supported power dynamic, reminiscent of the American notion of the White Man’s Burden. The representation of “nonwhite characters and culture as essentially broke, marginalized, and pathological,” reveals within the industry a deep bias; the product of both subconscious racism and rampant type casting. This bias keeps minority actors out of the juiciest roles, and therefore out of Oscar contention (Hughey 2014; 1-2, 10). Should minority actors be given more complex, abundant roles, their names would show up alongside those of their white peers on nomination day.

But how much does this matter? Does the racial composition of an awards show which bestows privilege upon the most privileged bear any apparent weight? During Gina Rodriguez’s tribute to actress Rita Moreno at the 2015 Kennedy Center Honors, she spoke of seeing Moreno on screen and realizing for the first time that Puerto Rican women could be actresses. “You gave me hope, you gave me a reason to fight and to speak up, you gave me a voice,” she said through tears (Brucculieri 2015). When the Oscars aired on February 28th, young children of all ethnicities watched as white actors won gold statutes. For any racial minority, dreams of becoming an actor seemed that much less attainable. Just like that, dreams stayed dreams, and stars were unborn. This is why Hollywood is angry. This is why it matters.

The Academy should nominate the actors who give the most outstanding performances of the year. That’s it. No race. No campaigns. No politics. In a society characterized by subconscious racism, this is no easy task. But after accounting for the limitations and prejudices of the industry, I am confident that through increased awareness and calls for industry-wide reform, changes can be made. Actors can transcend race. They just need to be given the chance.