Dr. Phil Making a Spectacle Out of Fatness? Say It ain’t So!

What do Kelly Osbourne, NAAFA, and hurtling cupcakes have to do with one another? Apparently, Dr. Phil.

Before I begin, I should admit to never having watched Dr. Phil before last Wednesday, March 10. I’d seen enough quotes from him to know his fat politics and mine didn’t exactly mesh, and I’m frankly annoyed at talk shows in general for totally ignoring the social in favor of the personal. Still, I knew very little about his show in general. I have to admit, I was pretty shocked – and, to my embarrassment, quite entertained – by the Jerry-Springer-esque flavor of the show I viewed.

Let me provide some context. About a week ago, several fat activists in the L.A. Area received emails inviting us to watch a Dr. Phil episode from the front row of the audience. The topic? The Fat Debate *insert ominous music*. Although I had to work that day and my schedule was enormously overburdened, I agreed, especially since I know and adore one of the panelists appearing on the show: Peggy Howell, NAAFA PR goddess.

Let me sweep aside the approximately eight tons of personal drama I endured getting to and from the studio. Our story begins in the front row of the audience, where I was pretty tickled to sit among some fat pride bigwigs in the SoCal Area. Ironically (although not at all surprisingly), the chairs were too small to accommodate my grandness. I had to sit with my arm around my sister, Kris, in order to have room to move my upper body.

After much ado, the episode began. The panelists included (from left to right, from my perspective): MeMe Roth; some random and virulently anti-fat personal trainer; Jillian Michaels (yes, she of The Biggest Loser fame); Kelly Osbourne (Really? I mean, really?!); a panelist (an actor, I believe) who denied she is “pro-fat” but who thinks fatties deserve to be treated decently (sounds kinda pro-fat to me, but what do I know?); Marianne Kirby, author of Lessons from the Fat-O-Sphere; and my homie, Peggy Howell.

From the very beginning, it was apparent to me that this wasn’t a serious debate on the topic of fat and health. (Kelly Osbourne? Really?) In fact, I thought the best arguments were the ones Dr. Phil mentioned in the introduction; sadly, most of them were never addressed. Right away, the format of the show and the nature of the guests (Who was that scary personal trainer with a t-shirt that screamed “No Chubbies”?), the show degenerated into the usual, tired discussion of whether fatties are bad, whether we deserve kindness or pity, and whether fat people can ever be healthy. YAWN! The highlight? The I’m-not-pro-fat-actor told MeMe Roth she thought MeMe’s rhetoric was reminiscent of the KKK’s. That garnered at least ten minutes of discussion, little of it productive.

As a sociologist, a human rights activist, and a scholar, I was depressed by how little actually got discussed. It’s not that each side didn’t try but that the format of the show directly pitted people against each other, that the guests (with a couple of exceptions) included people chosen for their sensationalism rather than their knowledge or critical thinking abilities, that Dr. Phil and the producers allowed arguing and screaming matches to replace intelligent discussions, and that the show picked an actor and singer, Kelly Osbourne, to act as panel moderator. I thought Ms. Osbourne did a surprisingly good job, but still, I would have appreciated having someone up there whose criterion for expertise was something a bit more, well, substantive, than recently losing a lot of weight. Well, and being born to a famous rocker. Sadly, the opportunity for calm, insightful, and logical discussions disintegrated in the face of name-calling and spectacle-making.

This was symbolized by the audience makeup. Squeezed into the left half of the first few rows of audience were the fatties, while the thin supporters (you could hear them chirp and scream when Jillian Michaels strode onscreen in her stiletto heels) hunkered on the right. Occasionally, they would make snide comments about fatties, and ever-so-often we would glare or ostentatiously laugh at anti-MeMe jokes (so wickedly immature, I know).

The point is, I realized (probably later than most) that this show was never created with the goal of promoting civil discourse. It was all about controversy, titillation, and raised voices. For all the positive influence it had on larger discussions of the issues, it may as well have been on Jerry Springer. This isn’t the fault of any one panelist; — although I did want to slap a couple for being consistently disruptive and inflammatory — it is instead a result of the “needs” of the medium for cheap ratings.

This is all from the perspective of a Ph.D. who has to beat* talk show culture teachings out of her students every single day. Now, had I written as a media consumer, I would have said the show was great fun and I had a blast blowing metaphorical raspberries at MeMe Roth and scary personal trainer guy. What? I’m human, too.

And by the way, the cupcake hurtling I mentioned before? It’s how personal trainer guy motivates his clients to push themselves harder in their exercise regimes. He also uses whips.

Thank god for the educational power of television.

* Not literally — I’m not the scary trainer guy.

We are the Whales, we are the people . . .

Editor’s note: Here’s a great guest post by the great Marilyn Wann, fat rights troublemaker.  In honor of this post, I have changed my on-screen name here to Whaliam.  But enough about me . . . 

This past Thursday, the wonderful HAES and body lib proponent Stephanie Zone emailed me urgently to alert me that the Wikipedia entry for “fat acceptance” mentioned me by the name Marilyn Whale. 

A wee tangential loop that will bring us back to my point: Stephanie invites me to speak every semester in her fabulous course at San Francisco City College entitled the Psychology of Food, Eating and Weight. She always draws a full registration of students and the inevitable few who want a weight-loss-focused course make for awesome discussion. Whenever I give a talk about weight diversity, I do an interactive bit that I call Speed Anthropology. I invite people to imagine they are anthropologists looking in modern American culture for linguistic artifacts, in other words, *words* that attach to “fat” and to “thin.” The classic stereotypes for fat always come up: stupid, smelly, lazy, ugly, unhealthy, out of control. Also, I often get what I call the Five Official Fat Animals: cow, whale, hippo, pig, elephant. So Stephanie’s warning came with a wry comment from her about whale being one of the official fat animals. 

Here’s my point. I have always wanted a word that signals the solidarity that I feel with people of all sizes who had decided to renounce the false hope of weight loss and who fight weight-based bigotry. I have tried saying, for example, “fat brother Kevin Smith.” 

But what if the person isn’t fat? I feel profound solidarity and delight in knowing thin people who are just as fierce, just as angry, just as ready to mess shit up, as I am, when we come across the belief that weight is destiny. Just call that person sister or brother. Call people simply sister or brother. Nice, but I wanted some sort of honorific specific to our shared experience. I have sometimes wanted to say, “I am Fatacus!” and I have said that and it works to some extent. I have wanted to hear all of us by turns bravely stand and say that you and you and you are also Fatacus. But this is unwieldy and not quite the part of speech that I seek. 

Now, I totally LOVE the term “rad fatty”! I first heard it in Portland among the Fat Girl Speaks kids. I hear that Phat Fly Girls on the East Coast call out to each other, “Hey fatty, wait up!” I certainly hope that second- or third-generation body liberation includes not just use of the F-word with pride but also this casual reference. But again, what do we call freedom fighters who identify as thin? Not fatty. Thinny? No, this is not enough. This is not quite it. 

Now, thanks to some wanker making hateful edits to Wikipedia with the intention to hurt us for our solidarity, that sad little wanker has given us our family name. 

We are the Whale family!!! 

Hi. My name is Marilyn Whale. You can join the Whale family by using Whale as your last name. No one has to officially change names at all. Remember when people started adding Hussein as their middle name? It’s that sort of a name. A name of claiming, a name that refuses bigotry and shame, a name for solidarity among the righteously embodied body liberationist cool kids. 

Isn’t it a bit astonishing that I’ve been publicly fighting weight bigotry since the mid-90s and I’ve never come across this particular schoolyard-style taunt/pun on my name? Never? I’ve gotta credit that sad little wanker. I’m happy to be a Whale!

– Marilyn Wann Whale

Pro-Fat Bumper Sticker

My sister recently sent me a car magnet shaped like a big, purple ribbon. “Save a life – adopt shelter pets!” it brightly proclaims. I hugged it to my ample bosom before happily slapping it on the side of my itty bitty Scion. The world already feels more animal friendly to me.

That got me thinking, though: If I were to design a bumper sticker or ribbon that perfectly encapsulated my fat pride, what would it say? I mean, I would want it to be in-your-face, but celebratory, stereotype-smashing, yet poignant. After some thinking, I came up with the following:

I’m fat. Not chubby, not obese, not queen-sized. I may or may not eat all my veggies, might or might not exercise regularly, could or could not have diabetes or high blood pressure. Really, unless you want me to ask you about the regularity of your bowel activities, breast exams, and/or usage of Viagra, howzabout we agree to leave questions of “health” at home? I do not drive up your health care costs; I am not a ticking, flesh-wrapped time bomb; and I have zero mommy issues. Sitting halfway in your airplane seat ain’t exactly a carnival for me, either. Making clothing, chairs, and bathroom stalls that fit me do not encourage me to be fat; they just make me comfy and therefore less grumpy. This benefits both of us. I’m not miserable, I don’t hate my body, and I don’t have an oral fixation or pathological relationships with food and sex. In fact, I like my body just the way it is. I do not care to lose weight, and I’m not quite sure why so many others want me to. Others may urge me to change my body to fit better into this thin world, but instead I’m committed to changing this world to make room for all sizes and sorts of bodies, including my own sexy, sassy, beautiful fat body.

Hmmm. I think I might need to buy a slightly larger car.

Why I Celebrate My Fat

Okay, so it’s not the most original post. I figured though, hey, sometimes we need to hear from the cheerleaders out there. So sit back, sweet thangs, and watch me shake my pom-poms.

Below are twenty-five reasons why I celebrate my glorious girth. Anyone have anything to add?

1. My kitties have at dozen or so places to choose from and snuggle into.

2. Have you seen some of those hot FAs?

3. I always have a handy flesh shelf for my hands.

4. I like to pretend I’m Godzilla climbing the Empire State Building when I enter an airplane. Strong women tremble, fierce men cringe, children cry. Feel the power!

5. How many other people can simultaneously clap their hands and their upper arms?!

6. Girdles would explode on me.

7. When I dance, every part of me joins in.

8. Fat people are sexy sizzling hot. Seriously.

9. I don’t have to move a single muscle to float in water. I’m a natural-born life preserver.

10.  When I walk alone at night, I laugh at the thought of someone trying to make me do something I don’t want to.

11.  Pantyhose don’t fit me.

12.  Chocolate and peanut butter, candles and steamy bathtubs, fat women and gay men: some things just go naturally together.

13.  A personality this big would be cramped in a teensy body.

14.  More square footage for body adornment, including tatts.

15.  I carry my own, homegrown coat in winter.

16.  Just about every sleeping position is comfortable for me.

17.  Did you know Wagner employed fat sopranos because he believed fat women have the greatest lung capacity and projection?

18.  Hugging me is like riding a tactile roller coaster.

19.  I can’t find high heels in my size and width.

20.  I’m like a feather bed for my romantic partners.

21.  Every outfit is a political statement.

22.  If I take a tumble, my bones and other goodies have a lot of padding to protect them.

23.  People don’t tend to sit next to me on a bus.

24.  I have tons of nooks and crannies, good for secreting IDs, tucking away money, distributing the weight of heavy objects I’m forced to carry, and balancing lighter objects when my hands are full.

25.  No one ever underestimates my strength and power.

Fat Friendly Places – Science Fiction Community

While there are asshats everywhere, there are some places that I have found to be reasonably fat friendly, while not being fat-centric. I think it is important for fatties to get out and mingle with the non-fat community. It is harder to maintain a bias against a group, when you know someone from that group and know that the stereotypes being attributed to that group don’t apply to the person you know.

My two mainstays are the Science Fiction Community and Theater; but right now I’m just going to concentrate on the former (unless someone really wants me to do a 20 page post). My husband and I go to at least one Science Fiction Convention per year (BayCon), and would like to go to more if we only had the time. BayCon is a “big umbrella” kind of Convention – Science Fiction literature, art, gaming, costuming, music (filk), dance (belly dancing and Regency dancing), hard science, anime – they cover as much of it as they can.

Much of the portrayal of women in Science Fiction art and literature seems to lean heavily on the wasp waisted, big boobed ladies in leather; but the actual fandom is much more diverse (and if you really watch the art shows, you can sometimes find some great original fat art).

Another thing, nowadays, Science Fiction is no longer just Science Fiction – it also includes Fantasy (elves, fairies, witches, vampires – you get the idea). So even if space travel is not your thing, if you enjoy fantasy you will love a Science Fiction Convention. And they are pretty much everywhere. Wikipedia even maintains a list of Science Fiction Conventions. And if you find that you enjoy a particular aspect of a Con, you may enjoy some of the more focused types of Cons (furries, gaming, anime, etc.).

Many Science Fiction fans are about intelligence and imagination; so there is not quite so much focus on the actual body type, which is refreshing. Also because imagination is encouraged and applauded, cleverness in costuming or just how you present yourself is really appreciated. You will see people of all sizes in all manner of dress and undress, and everybody feeling good about themselves. What a joy. Like to see the big guys in their kilts (yum)? This is the place to be. Like to see a fattie dressed in steam punk or wearing a corset and fishnets (oh yeah)? Come on by.

The dealer’s room (where the vendors sell their wares) is not quite as fat friendly, but I think they try. Because I am super-sized, I seldom find clothing (although at a WorldCon, I found fabulous dresses and burned out velvet dusters – so you never know) – but the vendors, themselves, are very fat friendly, and most (if not all) will be happy to take your measurements and have something custom made just for you! Yes it will cost, but the quality of the workmanship is usually excellent, and you’ll have something uniquely special. And there are a lot of fabulous one-of-a-kind jewelry, weapons, masks, hats, books, etc.

I used to run a “fan table” at BayCon – doing some minimal fundraising and handing out literature for NAAFA. And I had such positive response from people of all sizes. I have discontinued doing this because NAAFA no longer has a selection of literature covering various fat issues. However, it is my hope to encourage people to write brochures for me on fat issues, so I can again do outreach to the fat community and our friends. I can’t tell you how many average sized people would collect brochures for fat friends because the fat friend was so unhappy and all the average sized person wanted was to let their fat friend know that they could be fat, healthy and happy.

Anyone feel like writing a brochure for me? I’ll be happy to add the artwork (thanks to a subscription to ClipArt), put it in pdf format and it will be available for anyone who wants to print it and do their own outreach. Let me know.