Knowing the concepts of “Ambiguous Loss” and “Learned Helplessness” can be useful for understanding a personal or professional rut you’re in. But for actually getting out of one, smiling “like you have laser tits” is a simple, fun, and surprisingly effective method—and has helped me stave off a repeat of clinical depression for nearly 30 years too!

Estimated reading time: 15 minutes; if you haven’t already, please consider reading the introduction and Part 1 first. Photo by Conner Ching on Unsplash.

Not everyone can see the pedagogical value of a film about finding the clitoris, let alone apply its lessons to power networking. So, if you do have a special skill set like that, then flaunt it baby—and these easy to learn methods will show you how.

Estimated reading time, 15 minutes; if you haven’t already, please consider reading the introduction first. Photo by Carl Jorgensen on Unsplash.

I have a confession to make.

The truth is, if you’re reading this because we talked recently at an exhibition of your art, a screening of your film, your band’s gig, your lecture on the Korean #MeToo Movement, an information session about your NGO’s work, and so on, our meeting was no coincidence.

Unbeknownst to you, I’d already been all over your website and social media. When I liked what I saw, I decided I just had to meet you in person. Same applies if the event wasn’t even about you, but I knew you were coming.

Indeed, if we met during this cold winter especially, you, and you alone, may have been the only reason I left my apartment at all that day.

If those stalker-like vibes don’t already have you reaching for a lighter to burn my business card with though, I fear also revealing I would still never have had the guts to approach you, had I not once watched a film about finding the clitoris, will have you burying the ashes too.

But seriously, there’s a lot to cover before we get to that point, and we’ll only arrive there once we’re both good and ready. So instead, let’s start on how, the fact is, now you’ve taken the time to look me up too. And not simply because you appreciated my interest in your work either, because of my knowing your shit as it were. (Which, being genuine, was a very easy trick to pull off.) More, it was because you thought I also seemed to be interesting, my having tricked you with just enough long words and wide hand gestures to make me seem just as knowledgeable and passionate about my work as you are yours.

In other words, that I seemed to know my shit too.

Which was a lot harder to pull off. And even just six months ago, probably not something I’d have been capable of convincing you of at all.

So how did I do it?

My recipe to success has three main steps, with ever fresher and more active ingredients added at each. And like most recipe books these days, it may seem like I’m obliged to annoy you with a long and rambling anecdote before getting to the meat of this first one. Only, the anecdote is the meat. When I was 21, I did suffer from clinical depression, my crippling social anxiety always preventing me from overcoming my chronic loneliness. The advice I heard as I was recovering, did have me dancing shirtless to Ecuador in nightclubs by the summer, moving in with drag queens and flamboyant gay sex workers, getting on a plane to Korea, and giving lectures to audiences of hundreds. That same advice did, seemingly by magic, render that awkward nerd you thought you saw in the corner one minute at that party this winter, playing with the host’s cat, to that suave and sophisticated guy beelining you to shake your hand the next.

Do you have your pots and pans ready?

Fresh Breeze by Gil Elvgren, 1960. Source: Amazon.

Continue reading ““Work hard. Know your shit. Show your shit. And then feel entitled.”” →

In dark times, strategies for accepting and embracing the single life have much to offer anyone seeking a sense of agency and empowerment. Here’s announcing my deep dive into some that worked for me, which completely upend outdated stereotypes that your personality is set once you’re 30!

Estimated reading time: 5 minutes. Photo by pawel szvmanski on Unsplash.

“Straight men rarely write about the end of their marriages,” I happened to read shortly after the end of mine, and that traditional gender roles were to blame. Forced to defy those ever since everyone in New Zealand pegged me as gay in my early-20s though, I resolved right there and then it wouldn’t be a case of if I would ever take on that mantle, but when.

My naïve, happy mistake. Unfortunately for exploring that topic, I’m on much friendlier terms with my ex than when we left the courtroom three years ago. (It’s so annoying.) We’re both fully committed to amicably co-parenting our teenage daughters too. If I could still offer any genuine insights or advice about divorce without getting too personal about ours then, avoiding potentially embarrassing or hurting anyone involved, I would. But I just can’t see how.

Besides, I’m long since past moping. I’m single now, for the first time in over 20 years. Happy. Been dating even. Were I to talk about what I’ve learned from that transition instead, any second-hand embarrassment or judgments would be entirely on me.

I sense some of you already cringing in anticipation. But it’s not how it sounds. Actually, the advice which follows is barely about dating at all, and was prompted by the prospect of quitting it entirely, inspired by a August 2024 Atlantic article by staff writer Faith Hill on people who did just that. Reading her article right about when what had felt like a flood of likes, matches, and dates over the summer was starting to reduce to a trickle by autumn, and ultimately no dates at all since, she helped me realize I’m probably going to remain single for much, much longer than I expected (indefinitely even), for reasons largely beyond my control. In particular, she had such a rare, enormously helpful piece of actual practical advice from a therapist for coming to terms with all the angst and frustration I’d felt, rather than just offering the typical unhelpful cliches about all the fish in the sea and how great single life supposedly was (so shut up and stop complaining already), that I absolutely had to share for that alone.

Yet that advice was only about dating. (Or indeed, not dating.) And it only had the impact on me it did, because it dovetailed with so many other pieces of advice I’ve gathered over the years about how to cope when life isn’t going the direction you expected, when you feel trapped, when nothing you do to escape seems to work, and you just feel like giving up.

I realized by the winter too, that the validation from getting matches and dates had only been a crutch. Blinding me from the personal and professional rut I was in, and the need to do the hard work of actually putting that advice into practice.

Hence the long break sorry. Much has changed for me in the last five months, and periodically writing and rewriting this deep dive over that time has been a fundamental part of that process.

Now that I suddenly find it in a form I’m happy to share though, I’ll gladly take as a sign that my transformation, if not nearing completion, at least has enough momentum that I know I’ll see it through. I honestly do think too, that I’ve stumbled on some methods that completely upend outdated notions that our personalities are fixed by our 30s, and am very excited to share my secrets!

And once I do, I think I can give myself permission to resume my typical feminist overanalysis and critiques again ;)

“Life is Immense (인생은 광대해)” comes from the 1998 Italian, English-language film The Legend of 1900; I’ll explain in the conclusion! Image source: 페페.

Much too long for a single post though, in Part 1 of this series I’ll jump straight ahead to the most useful and universally applicable advice. (It’s centered around two quotes by Mary Schmich and Mindy Kaling, but the contexts I give them and my interpretations are very much my own.) Next, in Part 2, I’ll very briefly comment on Hill’s article, and how it mirrors my own experience. Rest assured though, talking about the hows and whys of my lack of dates would be just as boring for me to write as for you to read, so I’ll avoid those as much as possible. But how I handled the result is needed, as the advice I end with—wholly my own, and far more serious and useful than its subheading suggests—is very much rooted in that. Finally, Part 3 will be the conclusion, with links to many other pieces of advice that unfortunately would have been just too long to develop here.

(For ease of navigation, here are the three groups of posts in the series; I’ll add links to each as they go up.)

• Part 1
  • 1. “Do one thing, every day, that scares you.”
  • 2a. “Chicks love confidence (sic).”
  • 2b. “Work hard. Know your shit. Show your shit. And then feel entitled.”

• Part 2
  • 3. “Being single can be hard—but the search for love may be harder.”
  • 4. It’s Okay to be Lonely
  • 5. Use Insights from Psychology and Therapy
  • 6. Smile Like You Have Laser Tits

• Part 3
  • 7. Make a Conscious Decision to Leave the Purgatory. Live Lewis’s Thought Exercise
  • 8. The Rest
  • 9. Life is Immense 인생은 광대해

See you next Monday then, for the first installment. It’s good to be back! And extremely annoying that, despite my best intentions, I actually had a great date last night—meeting her literally 24 hours before telling you all how great it’s been feeling not even looking for one. Grrrr.

If you reside in South Korea, you can donate via wire transfer: Turnbull James Edward (Kookmin Bank/국민은행, 563401-01-214324)

Okay, this is far too long and honest, damnit.

Estimated reading time: 12 minutes. Image by Riki Ramdani at Unsplash (account since discontinued).

Sorry for being so inconsistent with my posting schedule.

That’s about to change, big-time.

In three months from today, I’ll be bringing the blog to a close on WordPress, then continuing it on Substack, or on another, more ethical newsletter platform like it. Or in other words, all my preexisting posts will remain here, and remain freely available to read, but all my new posts will exclusively be published on Substack from then on.

At first, all those new posts will also be freely available to read. But later, sometime in the next three months after making the move, most of them, or at least the full versions of them, will only be available to paying subscribers, for somewhere between $2-$5 a month.

Well, that was the plan. Turns out, Korean internet banking restrictions considerably complicate getting donations for work published on non-Korean platforms. But I’ll work it out by March 8 (probably an overseas bank account will be required). And, whatever platform I do settle on, crucially all the new content will only be about the price of a cup of coffee. For a whole month.

So, I like to think that many of you won’t need to think twice about signing up when the time comes. Still, to help even further persuade you, the delay is only because over the next three months I’ll be making all the lifestyle changes and sacrifices necessary for me to begin delivering content to you regularly.

Starting by typing this with a broken finger!

How regularly you callously ask, indifferent to my pain? Well, I can’t make any promises at this stage, as this is only the first day of seeing what I’m capable of. But I can guarantee that once you get used to regular, much more frequent posts, you will genuinely miss them one they’re no longer available for free.

Here, the old me would start talking about the myriad of reasons for making the move, including the problems with the old tagline of “Korean Feminism, Sexuality, and Popular Culture.” But really, most would only be of interest to aging bloggers. So I’ll confine myself to just two, bumped to the end because they’re both a little disheartening, frankly.

Better to lead with the positive—my new tagline. Which a lot of thought went into, and which I’m very excited and passionate about focusing on in 2024—the year this Dragon comes into his element. But what do I mean by it exactly?

“The reaction to having a woman in a condom ad is exactly why we need women in condom ads.”

First, the “Sex,” short for “A Feminist Take on Korean Sexuality” (but which just didn’t have the same bite, you know?), will be the least changed from before. The only difference will be that there will be many more posts on that from now on, prompted by a dire need to reexamine and update the many aspects of it that I haven’t covered in many years. Some, in over a decade.

I have good excuses for that inattention. Compared to a decade or even just five years ago, the quality of instant translation programs, and of English-language reporting about Korea in general, have improved dramatically. When I have wanted to make another deep dive into any Korean-language sources on sexuality then, it’s seemed almost pointless when any non-Korean speaker can get their gist with just a mouseclick. (Albeit with some Korean ability still necessary to find the mistakes, sentences the program inexplicably missed, and so on.)

And yet, despite so much about Korean sexuality having changed in that time, and despite it being a more fascinating, contemporary, and relevant subject than ever, I’m just not seeing the attention I would have expected. Beyond academia, English-language coverage seems overwhelmed by Me-too, molka, and the ongoing legal limbo of abortion. All vitally important issues for sure, but hardly the entirety of what’s been going on.

So, because I really have always seen it as part of my mission to make factual information about Korean sexuality—not rumors and stereotypes from K-dramas and dating TikToks—available to international audiences, it’s high time for someone to step up and fill in those gaps. Again.

“Fuse Seoul” Clothing Brand Subverts Gender Stereotypes, Offers Women Comfortable Clothing. What’s Not to Love?

Next, “Sass” will be the biggest change. Partially, it’s to counter valid criticisms that I focus too much on negative news stories sometimes, which can be a downer for me to write just as much as they can be for you to read. But more, I’m emphasizing it because by this, the week of my first divorce-anniversary (divorcary?), I’m freer than ever before, and like to think I’m even acquiring some semblance of a social life too. Put all that together, and I have much more of a capacity and desire to meet and write about cool, sassy people who share my convictions, who are working hard for the many social changes needed in Korea (especially those related to sexuality), who inspire others to do so, and who very much deserve absolutely all the publicity and support they can get.

(Also, I’m finally realizing how many such people are right here in Busan, a much-neglected population compared to Seoulites. So, sorry not sorry for what will may be a local bias!)

Posters for the “Yoni Garden” exhibition, held in Gwangalli Beach back in May.

Finally, there’s “Sensibility.” Which, not going to lie, I hope that mention alone will endear me to the huge, 99% overlapping demographic of feminists who are also Jane Austen fans, thereby instantly conveying my feminist credentials/allyship (take your pick! It’s all good!) despite the lack of an obvious place to insert “Feminism” or “Feminist” in the tagline. (Believe me, I tried!)

If not, then I could take a photo of my eight books by or about Jane Austen—but won’t, because no-one needs to know that three of those are actually three separate copies of Sense and Sensibility. Instead, let me offer the screenshot below, of me recently explaining “The Darcy Moment” to some sadly deprived female members of my bookclub (you know it’s me, because it’s a pink phone case). So we’re good?

But of course, there’s much more to it than that (I’ve even read some of those eight books!). Google “sensibility,” and even the most diehard Austen fan will have to admit it turns out to be extremely vague, with multiple definitions, especially when applied outside of an Austenian context. I’ve no qualms at all then, in appropriating the term to mean things which bring me joy, which resonate with me, which appeal to my sensibility then, and which I share because I hope—nay, fully expect—you’ll feel the same way about them too.

Generally, there’ll be four kinds of them.

First, those about books (etc.) which may not even mention Korea, but will be about sexuality, feminism, and so on. Shared because they have such eye-opening lessons about and/or parallels to Korea, that not covering them because they’re not technically Korea-related would do every reader a grave disservice. Not to mention withholding an aspect of my life I’m extremely passionate about, am still searching for people in real life who feel the same way, and, if I couldn’t share it at least in writing, simply don’t know what I would do with myself. (Kill myself, I helpfully suggested in another recent bookclub meeting.)

A good example of this is what An Intimate Affair: Women, Lingerie, and Sexuality by Jill Fields (2007) revealed about the uncanny parallels between the corset industry in ‘Western’ countries—for want of a better term—in the 1920s and the “V-line” and “S-line” and other “bodyline” trends of the beauty industry in Korea 2000s-2010s, which have enmeshed themselves into Korean beauty ideals so successfully (see below) that they go almost completely unremarked upon today. All of a sudden while reading that book, how and why finally made sense.

And understanding is happiness.

Dat name.

Next, there’s similar epiphanies to share even if there’s no link to Korea whatsoever. Like what I learned recently about how stereotypes about ‘appropriate’ gender roles and slight, natural biological sex differences in various abilities end up magnifying and perpetuating them, and how in practice many of them are easily overcome with just a little training, no matter how much they may or may not be ‘hardwired.’ Because remember my post on that, in which I describe how what I read in one book led to what I’d read in another, to another book, to another article, and to another book I’d read nearly 30 years ago, and upended beliefs I’ve held dearly for nearly as long? Originally that was supposed to be just a quick quote, posted only to sound smart. Instead, I just couldn’t pretend I wasn’t making the connections as I typed the quote out. Connections I felt were absolutely necessary to do the original topic justice, but which also required a lot of time and effort to fully explore, let alone explain.

That’s why so many of my posts end up so long, and why my posting is so irregular.

Because I do, absolutely, want to give the deep dives people have said they prefer. But they’re just so exhausting, and just take so much time.

That said, they absolutely will keep coming. For maybe I’ve finally read enough books to reach some sort of tipping point? Because while writing that post, I reveled in my ability to make those connections just as much as I did from learning from them. And coincidentally, not long after, someone who knows me well, whose own special ability is recognizing the qualities and uniqueness of others, and who’s really adept at working with her knowledge of those to bring people together and pull off numerous successful meetings, clubs, and group events, made the same observation about me. Ergo, for the first time ever, at the tender age of 47, someone else noticed I was good at something I alone have also long thought I was good at.

Perhaps only now because, finally, I know I’m good at it.

So what then, if those connections I make aren’t always about Korea?

Third, there’s Korean popular culture. But almost always though, absolutely not mainstream movies, dramas, or K-pop. For various reasons, those have generally never appealed to me over the last ten years or so, and besides which they get more than enough coverage elsewhere. Instead, I want to share moments like when I went to see After Me Too last October, which I frankly attended more out of a sense of obligation than anything else, wanting to show my support but also expecting to find it dry and political, and that I would struggle with the Korean.

What actually happened though, was that I understood far more than I thought, and found the film surprisingly moving. And it sparked an interest in films like it I’ve ironically barely covered at all here.

I was still so reticent though, because if I had shared that reaction here, readers might have just been left frustrated with how practically difficult or even impossible it would have been to see the film for themselves. But then, not sharing would hardly help rectify that situation, yes? And films do sometimes get shown again, if you know where to look. Just knowing about how good one was then, even if you missed it, helps you keep an eye out for others coming up by the same directors and/or featuring the same actors. Extend the same logic to other much neglected, indie films. To all the female-centered Korean short films I’ve been watching on Purplay with a vengeance since that moment of mine in the empty theater last year. To the Korean-language books I’ve read. To the feminist dances. All links which are just a drop in the ocean compared to what I want to experience, have experienced, and, despite everything I’ve just said, am wondering what on Earth was stopping me from sharing previously.
Finally, if you’re reading this far, it’s safe to assume we likely share many of same interests—and the same needs to delve into things completely unrelated to Korea sometimes, or even any of all the other things mentioned so far. So—yeah, it’s not just you detecting a theme here—why not talk about those too?

But with sooo much to talk about, and so much passion to do so, and desire to be heard, that begs the question of why I’ll be limiting myself to only doing so with paid subscribers eventually. Which brings me to conclude here with those two, disheartening reasons I alluded to for making that change.

First, because other than a small flurry of one-time donations when I wrote about blogging in June 2021, for several years before and since then I’ve only had one regular donor, who donates $2 a month. While I’ll always be eternally grateful to her (I love you MT!), that there’s only her after 16 years of blogging just underscores how long overdue a move to paid subscriptions really is, and how ridiculous it is that even now, I’m not fully making the leap for another six months.

Next, although I have over 10,000 followers between all my social media and email subscribers, in the last five years say, I’ve probably only ever interacted with less than 50 of you, and only a dozen or so often enough to know your names. Add that almost no-one leaves comments on blogs themselves these days, then the reality is that writing here is a pretty lonely and isolating experience most of the time. Much more so than I think most readers realize.

Photo by Tim Gouw on Unsplash.

By saying that, I absolutely don’t want anyone to feel guilty for not engaging with my content in the past, nor that future paying subscribers should at all feel obliged to. It’s completely my own choice to write at home alone, instead of doing something more sociable. But, having made that choice, which presumably you’d like me to continue making…it’s just hard sometimes, you know? The utter silence I usually receive in response to most posts, even after spending weeks pouring my heart and soul into some of them, can feel heartbreaking sometimes. Like I’m just screaming into the void.

Put all those reasons together, then I’d much rather have just ten people who are inclined to say hi sometimes, or who at least show they value my work through their renewed subscriptions, than 10,000 who don’t think I’m worth even a cup of coffee.

(More than ten people would be nice too though!)

And with that, to those of you who do want to say hi, let’s get to work on finally building our community, which I will do with my best attempts to keep you entertained, interested, and informed as I can.

So I’ll see you again very soon!

If you reside in South Korea, you can donate via wire transfer: Turnbull James Edward (Kookmin Bank/국민은행, 563401-01-214324)

They just KEEP coming. Grrr…

Reading time: 3 minutes. Photo by Fausto García-Menéndez on Unsplash.

First, on Friday 6 October at 09:00 Korean Time, Professor Sarah Mellors Rodriguez (Missouri State University) will discuss research from her new book, Reproductive Realities in Modern China: Birth Control and Abortion, 1911-2021 (Cambridge University Press, 2023):

At an annual rate of 49 abortions per 1,000 reproductive-aged women, China has one of the highest abortion rates in the world. This phenomenon is often attributed to the One Child Policy (1979-2015), yet even when abortion was illegal in the early twentieth century, it was already commonplace. This talk traces the history of contraception and abortion in China from the fall of the Qing dynasty in 1911 to the present. Rodriguez demonstrates how inconsistent state policies and patriarchal norms have historically worked in concert to normalize abortion as birth control.

More information and registration are available here and here. Also, check out an interview of her about her book at Made in China Journal, and a long podcast interview at New Books Network.

Next, and finally for today, on Thursday 12 October, from 07-08:30 Korean Time, Dr. Kyunghee Eo, assistant professor of East Asian languages and literatures at Yale University, will give a virtual talk entitled “Politics of Purity: The Making of the South Korean Sonyŏ Sensibility”:

Eo will demonstrate how we can enrich our understanding of Korean culture and society through a critical engagement with the figure of the girl (sonyŏ), a subject position that seldom takes center stage in official narratives of history. Using an interdisciplinary methodology, Eo will trace how girls were represented in various types of cultural texts, from canonical literature and popular magazines of the postwar period to the contemporary K-pop industry. By doing so, Eo will show how the unique girl sensibility (sonyŏ kamsŏng) that we see in South Korean cultural production today is not just a byproduct of hetero-patriarchal discourse, but rather, a cultural form that has articulated the desires, erotic fantasies, and political aspirations of women and girls in Korea over the past century.

See here and here for more information and registration. Also, make sure to check out last week’s post for information about two more upcoming Zoom presentations—one about the exhibition Only the Young: Experimental Art in Korea, 1960s-1970s, the other on Househusbands and Breadwinning Mothers: (Un)doing, Displaying and Challenging Gender in Japan—which will also take place next week.

If you reside in South Korea, you can donate via wire transfer: Turnbull James Edward (Kookmin Bank/국민은행, 563401-01-214324)

Reading time: 4 minutes. Image source: Photo by Fausto García-Menéndez on Unsplash

First, on Friday September 29, from 09:00-10:15 Korean Time (Yes—very soon!). The University of San Francisco Center for Asia Pacific Studies welcomes Monica Liu (University of St. Thomas Minnesota) to share her latest research on why Chinese women seek Western men (details; registration):

China has undergone a striking transformation over the past four decades, growing from a poor country to the world’s second-largest economy. Despite its ascendance on the world stage, a significant number of women are still desperately seeking to marry Western men and immigrate abroad. To pursue their elusive dream, these women are turning to global internet dating agencies. From 2008 to 2019, Liu conducted research at three different transnational dating agencies in China, interviewing 61 Chinese female clients, the majority of whom were middle-aged and divorced. In this talk, she will address how emerging inequalities brought on by China’s transition from state socialism toward a global market economy shaped these women’s desires to leave their country. Ultimately, their desires to pursue marriage migration not only reveal their longing for a better life but also cast a revealing light on the pervasive gender, age, and class inequalities that continue to plague modern-day China.

Not at all about “yellow fever,” but actually more about why many of the Chinese women she interviewed concluded that Western men were neither rich nor sophisticated enough to marry, I’ve previously mentioned an interview of Monica Liu at New Books Network about her related book Seeking Western Men: Email-Order Brides Under China’s Global Rise (2022), and have no hesitations at all in thoroughly recommending it!

Next, on Wednesday October 11 at 07:30 Korean Time, IFA Contemporary Asia is presenting Happening Now: A Conversation with Kyung An and Sooran Choi, on the occasion of the exhibition Only the Young: Experimental Art in Korea, 1960s-1970s, on view at the Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum through January 7, 2024 (details; registration):

The air was fidgety in 1960s and 1970s South Korea. While the nation urgently anticipated new breakthroughs from the rapid socioeconomic transformations, Park Chung Hee’s dictatorial grip on the young republic tightened. In response, the new generation of young artists embarked on innovative and often provocative approaches to art making by experimenting with radical artistic concepts and a wide variety of mediums, including but not limited to video, installation, photography, and performance. Featuring approximately eighty works, Only the Young examines the works born out of both individual and collective experimentations, which were bounded not by a single aesthetic, but by their engagement with the dynamic social atmosphere of South Korea and the world beyond.

This discussion seeks to explore Experimental Korean art in the 60s and 70s as a unique moment in Korean history while situating it within the broader discourse of global art history, to question: How has the term “Experimental art” been forged and developed? How do we navigate between the artists’ local distinctiveness, yet avid engagement with concurrent global art movements? How does the exhibition engage with the current sociopolitical climate? The event will begin with a brief presentation and walkthrough by the exhibition curator, Kyung An, Associate Curator of Asian Art at the Guggenheim, followed by a conversation between her and Sooran Choi, Assistant Professor of Art and Art History in the School of the Arts at the University of Vermont, Burlington, VT.

Finally, on Friday October 13, from 19:00 to 20:30 Korean Time, Ofra Goldstein-Gidoni (Professor, Tel Aviv University) will discuss her paper Househusbands and Breadwinning Mothers: (Un)doing, Displaying and Challenging Gender in Japan, which is:

…a study of Japanese heterosexual couples self-defined as “role-reversed couples” (fūfu gyakuten). As the term suggests, these couples are surely not representative of the normative gender division between work and care in Japan. In fact, in the Western Anglo-American context, role-reversed parenting has been recently described as “statistically rare,” but of growing practical and theoretical significance.

The paper will present these couples against a shifting background in Japan, which includes the growing participation of women in the workforce and an ongoing vibrant public discourse about re-defining the role of the father in the family, largely encapsulated in the popular neologism ikumen.

Examining couples who respond, challenge, confront, perform and even negate what they perceive as their ascribed “roles,” the paper will pose the question of doing and undoing gender at its focus, the presentation will aim to challenge or problematize the allegedly too-narrow binary opposition of doing/undoing.

See here and here for further details and registration. (Image, above-right: Ofra Goldstein-Gidoni’s latest book.)

If you reside in South Korea, you can donate via wire transfer: Turnbull James Edward (Kookmin Bank/국민은행, 563401-01-214324)