WRIT 2000
Weekly Reflection
According to how I analyze the text, Mesopotamian and Mesoamerican cultures bought a major revolution in the history of writing. Up until then, the purpose of writing was just to keep a record of economic transitions and numerical values that get associated with trading. However, as time passed by this way of keeping records started falling short, the numbers had become too many and the basic system couldn’t keep up with it. In a situation like that, innovation was the need of the hour, people were desperately trying to look for an alternate and more convenient method of maintaining these economic records.
Soon it shaped into language that started using symbols and sounds, and because it felt much more convenient and people started realizing that the use of something like this can be expanded much more beyond the circle economical trading. This is when people started adopting it into religion and culture as well which further ended up spreading the use of writing like gossip.
Looking at all the points bought up by the video and in the article, I think it would be wrong to say that the reason behind the development or spread of writing was entirely cultural, economical, evolutionary, or religious. I believe they are all moving parts however if I am looking at one particular aspect that was most important, I think I would bend my argument towards economic. Economic factors seem to be the most prominent motivation to keep written records and certainly a reason why this practice hasn’t died after being in the society for so long and has rather become more and more vital.
WRIT 3500
Revised Piece of writing
Genre: Theatrical Play
Eternal Darkness
Anusha Goswami
Characters:
Ayaan: Dark-haired guy with average build and brown skin color. Introverted personality, and has a hidden talent for sketching and painting. Other than his parents, he has an elder sibling sister and he is very close to her.
Sahil: Impulsive, hot-headed, firm and yet assertive type of personality. He is a single child of his parents and has the same shade of brown for eyes and his hair. Currently, he’s pursuing business for higher education. He has a strong ability for making business-related connections, it’s like his superpower which is why people think business is a great major for him. Another important thing about him is his trouble with being truly vulnerable with people. It’s skeptical still if it’s a weakness or a kind of strength.
Rashid: Also in his early twenties. He has Jet-black hair and ocean blue eyes. He has a passion for traveling. Traveling and exploring the world one day is his dream, but he thinks his dreams are too cringy to actually pursue. He thinks too much.
In the last few years, he has also developed PTSD.
SCENE 1
The night sky looked beautiful, and the beach was a bliss. Ayaan was sitting on the cold sand with water touching his feet every now and then. The sea seemed to be in a playful mood. He kept both his hands on the sand, holding the weight of his upper body. His legs were crossed one over the other and kept gazing up to the clear sky.
[Ayaan was alone, it wasn’t long before his thoughts stole his voice and he began to murmur things to himself]
Ayaan:
It’s crazy, isn’t it? That most often the things that create or destroy a person are merely abstract images in the mind. It’s in the mind, where all boundaries merge into the horizon, and infinity in the virtue of imagination finally finds a real meaning. You could imagine affection, you could imagine comfort, every piece of yourself that in real life, you just couldn’t find. The prettiest places behind a glass door you couldn’t break, it could just as well drive you crazy.
(He scratches his face suddenly)
Damn it! There really is something about the night time, it just intensifies emotions.
It was weird to him, how he would talk the most when no one was actually around.
All his vague thoughts ended with the birth of other ones, they kept rattling his mind with impunity. He closed his eyes wanting to absorb all the heavenly feeling and this cool breeze deep within himself.
Ayaan: It’s gonna be fine, Ayaan. You are going to be alright. It’s gonna end soon, it definitely will…
He laid back for a moment, his back reclined...and with a thud, he suddenly sat upright, unconsciously trying to grab the sand, he was breathing heavily and his head felt heavy as if someone had hit him hard at the back of his head.
Ayaan: Why does it keep happening to me? No matter how hard I try to forget, it’s just never enough. Why don’t these memories just fade away, are they going to haunt me forever?...
It’s scary over here...Can someone hear me?...I’m screaming and it’s harder to breathe every minute, how much louder before I hear a comforting voice, how much longer before it all ends?...
(His voice breaks, and blackout)
Scene 2
Sahil and his dad are sitting across each other in the dining area. There wasn’t much talking going on. Dad was dressed in a semi-formal shirt and brass colored formal pants. He was casually switching channels on the television. Sahil was sitting on a couch, a classic brown one. He wore a casual pastel green color shirt with blue denim pair of jeans. He scrolled through his phone a little annoyed with his Dad constantly changing T.V. channels.
Cutlery wars were on in the kitchen, Sahil’s mom was busy cooking dinner, gatherings at the house meant for her to spend hours in the kitchen, authentic Indian style food was never an easy nut to crack. She wore an elegant dress, black and knee-length. She was pretty, really pretty but people had a hard time seeing her as anything other than that.
The food was almost prepared, ready to be served.
(The doorbell rings, their wait was over)
Sahil’s mom wipes her hands with an apron and she heads towards the door. Greetings, and then all of them are seated.
Rashid’s dad wore a polo brown shirt and jeans. His hair clearly said he was growing old. His Mom’s age you couldn’t easily tell, her eyes might have grown older, her body didn’t. She looked quite elegant wearing a loose-fitted blouse and a pair of black denim.
Rashid’s Mom: Wow! Your house is so pretty. Definitely prettier than the last one.
Sahil’s Mom: Thanks! Well, the furniture choice was mine this time so what’d you expect.
(Everyone shares a little giggle, Rashid and Sahil exchange an uncomfortable look)
Sahil’s Mom: So how is college life treating you, Rashid?
Rashid: Pretty well till now I’d say.
Sahil’s Mom: I feel so old saying this, but our little boy has grown up so much. (She says with a smile) You’ve grown up really handsome, Rashid.
Rashid did look quite handsome, he wore a light blue short-sleeved shirt and kind-of worn-out blue jeans.
Sahil’s Mom: You and Sahil are meeting after so long too. You guys wanna go hang out in Sahil’s room? I’ll have some lemonade sent up there, and I’ll call you when we serve the food.
Rashid: Sure, sounds good!
(Sahil and Rashid exit)
Sahil and Rashid were family friends, their families had known each other since both of them were little four or five-year-olds. These family dinners used to be quite a usual tradition, but it had been a while before this particular dinner. Long back, there was another family too, they are hardly mentioned now. It’s sort of awkward to mention them but theoretically, time had just made them grow apart.
Scene 3
Sahil and Rashid are in the room, both of them have lemonade glasses in their hands. Rashid is sitting on one edge of the bed, his head tilted down (looking like he is lost in thought) and Sahil is seated on a chair. It is a rotating chair, the only sound in the room is of the constantly moving chair.
There was an awkward silence between the two.
Sahil: So, How’ve you been?
Rashid: Fine. Just, okay.
Sahil: It’s good to see you.
Rashid looks uncomfortably at a framed photograph at a table at the corner of the room. Sahil looks at him.
Rashid: You still have this?
Sahil: (gesturing as if he is clearing his throat) Mom insisted on keeping this when we shifted to this house.
Rashid: Hmm…(A little pause)
Rashid: We look...happy (he says with a thousand emotions on his mind, positive, negative, everything in between)
Sahil: Look, hey, we don’t have to talk about it. I mean, there’s no reason to right? I... (Rashid didn’t seem to be listening to a word, Sahil notices. He pauses momentarily but continues)
Sahil: See, I know you’ve been taking those pills. Your mom told me about it, and that you’ve been seeing some therapist for a while. Is it because…?
Rashid: (interrupting) That doesn’t matter, Sahil, we have enough reasons to talk about it, you know that.
Sahil: I just thought,…
Rashid: I am gonna tell them, We have to tell them
(Sahil looks at Rashid startled as if blood had suddenly stopped flowing through his body, his face looked as though it had turned blue)
Sahil: Noo (Sahil shouted almost instantly)
(Rashid stands up and puts his hand on Sahil’s arm)
Rashid: Sahil, calm down okay, we...
Sahil: No, you can’t do this, I’m not gonna let y...
Rashid: (Interrupting) No, shut up! I have to tell them okay? It’s enough now, it’s killing me inside, It just doesn’t stop hurting. I can’t live like this, these recurring flashbacks just wouldn’t let me be at peace for a single moment.
(Rashid reaching out to open the doorknob on the door aggressively but Sahil presses his hand against, trying to prevent Rashid from getting out).
Rashid: Let go of me! (Rashid screams) I need to tell them...Why don’t you get it?
We should have told them a long time ago, you understand, if we had, none of this would be happening, y…
(Rashid drops his hand from the door handle, he gulps and continues after a deep sigh)
Do you realize there are people out there who are still looking for him, his parents still think their child has gone “missing”. Come on Sahil really, does that never bother you?
Sahil: Look it wasn’t our fault… (Sahil says in a hushed insistent voice, his heartbeat racing)
Rashid: It wasn’t our fault? ( in a partly breaking off high pitched voice) Really?... There isn’t even anyone else in this room, just us two, who do you want to lie to? Who’s fault do you think it was? Look Sahil... I cannot do this anymore. Those flashbacks are killing me. Let go of me.
( Sahil shuts the door with a thud, eyes wide like a threat and jaws clenched so tight the muscles on his face twitched)
Rashid wasn’t one for fighting fists first, it took him long to speak. The words he spoke were the bravest thing he ever did.
Rashid: Tell me, don’t you feel his hushed breaths every time, you sit peacefully. Do his screams not echo in your ears every time someone calls out your name? Are you really okay with living this lie every moment of your life Sahil? You kn..
Sahil: Stop it! Stop talking, you’ve gone crazy. I need to get out of this room, you better not tell anyone. I won’t let you...
(Sahil exits, Rashid is left in the room, standing alone.)
Scene 4:
This scene takes place around 3 years prior to the last scene. Ayaan, Sahil, Rashid (all in their late teen years) and all their families are on a weekend trip. They are all staying in a hotel close to a beachside. (Ayaan’s sister had already left for college and couldn’t join the trip).
Ayaan, Rashid, and Sahil have rooms close to each other. It’s late at night, supposedly they should all be asleep. They instead hang out in Rashid’s room. The scene abruptly cuts to all three of them in an argument.
(The stage is blacked out, we just hear the voices of the three of them arguing. An argument about who’s the bravest, and then we see them end up walking in a forest) The forest is just a mile from the beach. They giggled and made fun of each other through most part of their way.
Their giggles die out as they walk deeper into the forest, grave silence replaces their voices.
Suddenly amidst the grave silence, a deathly scream echoed. It was followed by Rashid and Sahil’s outburst of laughter. Sahil had pushed Ayaan slightly from the back just with the intention of scaring him.
Rashid: I told you, you couldn’t even make it half way
Sahil: You don't belong here, bro. Adventure is not your cup of tea, accept it.
(laughing continues.) A little pause
Rashid: Ayaan?
Sahil: Dude, come on now get up
Sahil sits down and shakes Ayaan hushedly.
Sahil: Ayaan, get up now. It’s no joke.
Rashid (panicking): Ayaan are you alright?
(Rashid quickly pulls out a torch from his back pocket and flashes on Aayan)
Rashid’s face loses color as he flashes the light on Ayaan’s face. Rashid loses balance, he drops on the ground heavily gasping for breath.
Rashid: Sahil,...he’s bleeding. (He points at the back of Ayaan’s head)
Sahil: Oh god no, lift him up. We need to carry him back…(Checking his breath) he’s unconscious but he’s still breathing…
Rashid: (Trying to lift his legs, while Sahil attempts lifting him by his shoulders) We can still make it right? It’s not too late
(Both carry Aayan for a little stretch. They are tired, they are both sweating.)
Rashid: (pausing momentarily) What if we don’t make it?
Sahil: We will...we’ll make it…(suddenly breaking down) His breaths are fainter Rashid, I...I think, maybe we won’t.
Rashid: What are we gonna say to everyone. If he dies, we are gonna be murderers.
Sahil: (His eyes are wet, he tries his best to be strong) But we are gonna have to try alright…
Rashid: Sahil, just look at him, he has lost too much blood. We still have a long way ahead and...
Sahil: Rashid, please. (He interrupts and screams at Rashid angrily) What do you suggest huh? we can’t just leave him here?
Rashid breaks down, tears find a way out of his eyes)
Sahil: (breathing heavily, sightly loosening his grip of Ayaan’s arms. He seems to be staring blankly in front of him, he looked disoriented with reality.) Maybe we should.
Rashid: huh?
Sahil: Maybe we can leave him here, no one has to know. We’ll pretend that nothing ever happened and we don’t know a thing. Look, no matter how hard we try, he wouldn’t survive. Even if he does, by any chance. We’ll be dragged into chaos, we’ll be questioned and blamed and…
Rashid: What,...What if they find out?
Sahil: We were in our hotel rooms, sleeping. We didn’t see Ayaan. Nothing like this happened. We’ll be safe Rashid... okay? (Sahil was shaking like someone had drawn out all energy he had)
Rashid: (In tears, He lets go of his grip of Ayaan. He nods with pain evident in his eyes.)
Blackout.
Scene 5: The scene takes off from the end of Scene 1. Ayaan had calmed himself now, the beautiful sea waves had worked their magic. He had gotten up from in front of the sea now, he’s taking a walk around. Unknowingly, he finds his feet moving towards the same forest.
He was recalling what his sister had once told him, “Ayaan, Don't live in the dilemma of what you see, this world has covert dimensions.” In the lurking dark of the forest, he suddenly craved for brightness, even for a faint ray of hope. But this darkness, it seemed eternal.
He murmured to himself;
Ayaan: Brightness, really? There’s nothing like a ray of hope for you? Who even are you, you’re no one, completely insignificant for the world. After all, you’re nothing but just another secret, this darkness safely hides. Just another unfair tale that’s lost in this endless night. You’re just a stupid restless soul Ayaan, just a ghost lurking in the dark...
Scene 6:
The scene continues from where it left in scene 4. Sahil has gotten out of the room he is feeling overwhelmed. He rushes to the restroom to wash his face in an attempt to somehow feel better. He splashes water onto his face, he shuts his eyes trying to calm himself. As he opens them, his reflection in the mirror seems to be trying to have a conversation with him.
Meanwhile, Rashid is alone in Sahil’s room, his thoughts are eating him and he is talking to himself. Both scenes occur parallelly on the stage.
Sahil: How can I let this happen? He’s crazy obviously I...
Sahil (mirror reflection): Stop lying to yourself, you murdered him ( the voice came from the other side of the mirror, splashes of water on Sahil’s face also let water inside his eyes, so the image for him was blurry.)
Sahil: It wasn’t our fault, (He speaks from between his clenched teeth, stressing on each word, as if trying to convince himself of the truth in them)
NO…(Suddenly, he shouts at the mirror in an aggressive impatient voice) It obviously wasn’t our fault. We didn’t ki…
Sahil (mirror reflection): (interrupts) You killed him.
Sahil: No,...no I didn’t Okay? shut up, shut up. (He clenches his fist and angrily bangs it on the mirror. The mirror breaks and blood starts creeping out of his fist. (He begins to cry)
Sahil: I didn’t mean to do it alright...please, shut up...
Rashid (alone in the room): Nothing can fill this void Aayan, we’re really sorry…(He picks up the photograph, it’s a picture of all three of them) Ayaan, you know, nobody else paints like you, you could have been a great…(he breaks, then lets out a painful little giggle) ...a very famous painter. ( A little pause) I miss you Ayaan…(All memories started to flash into his mind and he starts having a panic attack, a more serious one than the ones he has been having for a while in the past, he starts breathing heavily)
Sahil stares blankly at the broken mirror, he’s more discomforted by the tears that were lurking out of the bounds of his eyes, than the blood flowing out his hand. Real emotions always made him uncomfortable. He’s on the floor of the bathroom. He takes the support of his hand, which wasn’t very supportive, to get up. He has gathered strength now. He walks slowly to Rashid’s room. He stands behind the door for a minute, then he lets himself in)
Sahil: (pushing the door and getting in) We’re going to tell, Rashid. You were right, we have to…
(He stands frozen as soon as he sees Rashid)
The photo frame is shattered, Rashid’s body lay on the ground. He had fainted, his tears haven’t dried yet. But at the least, Sahil could feel his breathing. The feeling of Deja Vu had quite an uncanny ring around it.
WRIT 3500
Reflection
When I first started out with college, I put packed my passion for writing in a box that no one else ever got to see, other than me. I was happy with the things I wrote, but I was too afraid to have another pair of eyes look at them. As unexpectedly as my Writing minor came into existence, I will always cherish this experience.
In my first year at DU I took one writing class every quarter because then I had the capacity in my schedule to choose one class every quarter just out of curiosity. That curiosity, almost always ended up being writing. I was a hard sciences major then and it is fair to say I did not see the Writing minor coming, but by the end of sophomore year I had so many writing classes in the mix, I thought I might as well make a minor out of it. I learned a lot about me, my thoughts, my feelings, the way I work and my strengths and weaknesses. The introspection, the self discovery, is what I would say my lived curriculum was!
One of the things I liked the most was that it is so hard to guess what to expect in these courses. They were unexpected fun rides, and you end up learning so much about things that you didn’t even realize you didn’t know. I wasn’t sure if writing was a subject that can be learnt in school classes (I mean I understand that academic writing can be taught but I focused most of my minor in creative writing and poetry courses). I believed that there are not a lot of differences that classes about creativity can make, but the amazing professors and fellow writers I met have flipped the perception upside down. That is why I believe delivered curriculum made my writing experience very rich and something I’ll always be grateful for.
Lastly, for my experience based curriculum, I think one thing this minor has given me is invaluable gain in confidence.
As a writer it is so easy to second guess yourself, and get stuck in ones own head. To think is my writing good or if its cringey, or if its too sentimental or too happy, or if it has the same effect on my reader as it had on me, all these questions constantly haunt my head. Being in this minor helped me find clarity, Through the course of my years, I had the opportunity to be a part of so many great classes filled with cohorts of such wonderful writers that I was able to look at things in a whole new way. Sharing my work with other writers and reading their works gave me the footing I needed to stop second guessing my work. Ultimately, I believe that this major has made me a better writer and a reader
ENGL 2002
POEM: Bad Side of History
How my silence
speaks so much to you,
But my words are only
an invitation, annoys me.
I’d silence your voice,
with my arms made of steel
But I’m hostile to history
When your kind smile
turned to wild eyes one day,
My heart couldn’t turn
to ice so fast so my mouth did
I had so many questions
to ask you, but now they
drip back into my throat, melted
and haunt all my veins instead.
This world has never won a war,
For swords talk so loud
that shields never get to speak.
If only you heard me, this war
would’ve turned to roses,
and you’d be on the
The good side of my poetry
I wonder too many times,
after silencing its hunger,
Do the claws of the beast turn softer?
Do they return to being kind,
like your smile the next day,
or the innocent-looking eyes?
I’ve learned that anger
makes you wanna scream;
Mine only made me silent
You were bold enough
to mark it as defeat
And I was too startled
to put up my shield
But now silence echoes in this hallway
And with only shame, I set you free
I bottled the screams in a suitcase
And I packed us up to leave you with it.
You don’t get to be kind anymore,
only I get to be reckless
For the questions you barge at me,
only add insult to the injury
I’ve decorated peace on
pictures with your face cut-out
Now you don’t get to talk,
silence is loud enough for me
Because I know
I’ve seen this film before
And now I’m leaving you
alone with the sad ending
~Anusha
WRIT 1133
"Toxic"
In the year 2018 the word “ Toxic ” had been declared Oxford Dictionary's Word of the Year 2018 as the adjective reflects the ethos, mood, or preoccupations in 2018.
According to Oxford “ ‘toxic masculinity is the second most used word consisting toxic as per the data. It comes right after 'toxic chemical' ”
According to OED and corpora, the word “toxic” has currently lost it’s true meaning, even though it is still sometimes used to refer to its original meaning, but most of the time we use the word very casually and inappropriately. This can create a problem because firstly the scientific meaning of this word is being corrupted and secondly it is the present way of usage is becoming more and more confusing and ambiguous. This ambiguous nature of the word “Toxic” can create conflicts between the ideology of people in the way they use the word and create a misinterpretation of a sentence that is meant to be said.
In the mid-seventeenth century, when this word with greek and latin origins was first defined, it was defined as an adjective that referred to something poisonous. But the word’s deadly history doesn’t start there. The medieval Latin term was in turn borrowed from the Latin toxicum, meaning ‘poison’, which has its origins in the Greek toxikon pharmakon – lethal poison used by the ancient Greeks for smearing on the points of their arrows. Interestingly, it is not pharmakon, the word for poison, that made the leap into Latin here, but toxikon, which comes from the Greek word for ‘bow’, toxon.
In contrast to the original definition, it is widely being used in the wrong way these days and can be highly debatable. By using the word ‘debatable’, I mean to emphasize the journey of this word and it’s very interesting ‘drifting apart’ from its actual initial meaning which has led to a situation where the person who first defined this word would not be able to figure it’s in-use meaning in today’s world.
Earlier this word was used in contexts such as “ This is a toxic chemical” which meant that a particular chemical is poisonous or lethal. These days it is widely used in contexts like; “Wolfe Naimark said immigration-enforcement policies have contributed to instability and toxic stress for children and their families, which can have long-lasting impacts.” as it was used in 2017 news. In this context, “toxic” doesn’t literally mean something is poisonous, instead, it means something is a ‘not good’ type of stress.
Another example of a usage that is quite deviated from this word’s original meaning is; recently married pot farmer -- sounded increasingly despondent over his toxic relationship with his neighbors. In this context, “toxic” refers to ‘a kind of neighbour which were not liked by the person whose perspective is being represented in this sentence.
If we really dig into the history and roots of this word, it was originally brought into the english language as a modification and combination of the word ‘toxikos’, which in greek language means ‘an arrow’ and the word ‘toxicum’ which has Latin origins and refers to ‘poison’, therefore the very initial meaning of the term ‘toxic’ actually was ‘a poison that was used to coat arrows’.
Reflecting on this history of the word essentially brings us to a point where we can totally argue on the point that Socrates tried to bring up as one of his ‘typical jokes’ in his infamous etymology debate with Hermogenes, “ if perhaps everybody in the world started calling you Hermogenes, your name wouldn’t actually become Hermogenes”. In this debate, I would strongly say that it essentially would become his name. I believe that people or speakers of particular languages have strong influences on their language and it is actually really up to people how they want to mold it according to their preferences and conveniences.
According to OED, back in 1890 it was still only used in contexts like “Though the red flesh of yew berries is not poisonous, the needles and the seeds contain highly toxic alkaloids.” this can be considered to be a very relevant usage, and as quite consistent to originally defined meaning.
This entire journey of this word as shown in OED and corpora, I feel like the best way to resolve the conflict around this word is to emphasize that this word should only be used in scientific contexts, and only at places where the meaning according to the usage can be considered to still be true even if tested including the scientific aspects. On the other hand, other words can be used in contexts of sentences where we use this word with modified modern meanings. Using the above-given examples, this is the way that I believe we can manage to avoid using the word ‘toxic’ and replace it with other words instead;
“Wolfe Naimark said immigration-enforcement policies have contributed to instability and unhealthy levels of stress for children and their families, which can have long-lasting impacts.”
“Recently married pot farmer -- sounded increasingly despondent over his bad/ unhealthy relationship with his neighbors.”
In these cases we could successfully replace words in place of the word ‘toxic’ in this way, I think we can easily make sure we do not misuse the word and can use the word ‘toxic’ exclusively in scientific contexts.”
Strictly defined as "poisonous," Oxford Dictionaries says that its research shows that "this year more than ever, people have been using 'toxic' to describe a vast array of things, situations, concerns and events." "toxic" has "truly taken off into the realm of metaphor, as people have reached for the word to describe workplaces, schools, cultures, relationships and stress. There was a 45 percent increase in the number of times that “toxic” was looked up on oxforddictionaries.com in 2018. The word found increasingly diverse uses, according to the dictionary, both in the adjective’s literal sense — relating to poison and likely to cause death — and its metaphorical sense — generally harmful or corrosive, as in a toxic political culture or a toxic relationship.
Citations:
https://languages.oup.com/word-of-the-year/word-of-the-year-2018 Desk, I. T. W. (2018, November 16). 7 reasons why 'toxic' is Oxford Dictionary's Word of the Year 2018. Retrieved from
https://www.indiatoday.in/education-today/grammar-vocabulary/story/reasons-why-toxic -is-oxford-dictionary-word-of-the-year-html-1389755-2018-11-16.
https://www.washingtonpost.com
https://www.indiatoday.in/education-today/grammar-vocabulary/story/reasons-why-toxic -is-oxford-dictionary-word-of-the-year-html-1389755-2018-11-16
ASEM 2789
Reflection: Contesting Intersex
Dr. Davis has a very strong and methodical hand at writing, I love that she puts forward her perspective and also creatively makes her writing impactful by keeping her engaging. I found the metaphor she used for her first chapter’s title to describe how intersexuality and the problems faced by the intersex community affects everyone in some capacity. She opens her book with a detailed description of what the word ‘intersex’ itself means to her, she puts under a microscope how the use of the word intersex is not exactly ideal and is perceived by society in a problematic manner.
The way she describes the word intersex is that ‘It is the state of being born with a combination of characteristics (e.g., genital, gonadal, and/or chromosomal) that are typically presumed to be exclusively male or female.” As we go deeper into the chapter she explains how being intersex is just a state of being. People who are intersex are perfectly normal and do not need to be ‘fixed’ in order to fit into a certain gender bracket that is socially acceptable as a society.
The book views intersexuality in a very refreshing manner. It takes multiple lenses and focus points to evaluate the concept of intersexuality as a whole- such as institutional, individual, and interactional levels as well as biological and medical which she goes deeper into in other chapters.
I was glad that she tried to make the book inclusive, as in she interviewed a bunch of people and included their perspectives in the book as well and did not just rely on her personal experiences to generalize to the whole intersex community.
First, she takes the lens of the institutional world, she talks about various major institutions like —Intersex Society of North America (ISNA), Accord Alliance, Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome Support Group-USA (AISSG-USA), and Organisation Intersex International (OII). She talks about how it is very crucial that we talk about these big entities because they influence our society’s public ideologies and if we want to bring about any major change in the world about intersex population and how they are treated socially and medically we absolutely need these institutions to play a big role in it.
Davis moves on and talks about the hazardous implications of how the medical world interprets and works around intersex people. She writes about how intersex people often happen to have surgeries that alter their bodies sexually and how these are not ethical as they can cause problems in a person’s body as well lacks proper consent, not only that these surgeries are irreversible and can cause permanent damage.
The thing I find the most hurtful, is what she talks about in the fourth chapter, the emotional trauma that intersex people have to go through. Not only because of the perception of society and the lack of awareness in the people around but also sadly because of the medical field and how they are treated by highly educated doctors.