Everybody
wants a piece of Ronda Rousey – and not just in the octagon. As the
28-year-old UFC women’s bantamweight champion continues her meteoric rise,
there’s a strange sort of cultural tug-of-war erupting over whether
Rousey is a bad-ass feminist or conservative kook. Some women’s rights
advocates love that she’s taken on issues like body image and domestic
violence, while men on the right like the way she’s deftly sidestepped
questions about equal pay. Oh, and just to add some spice to the mix:
Rousey has just come out as a supporter of self-declared socialist Bernie Sanders’ run for president.
It’s not hard to see why there’s been so much excitement around Rousey, both within and beyond sports. Less than five years after UFC president Dana White said that women would “never” be allowed to compete in the world’s leading mixed martial arts promotion, Rousey has become his biggest star (and it’s not particularly close). Eight of her 12 career wins have ended in less than a minute, earning her a place on the front of Sports Illustrated – no small feat given the mag’s dismal track record with female cover subjects – beside a screaming headline that dubbed her the “world’s most dominant athlete”. She’s co-starred in The Expendables 3 and Furious 7 and will soon star in a remake of the 80s cult classic Roadhouse, cementing her status as MMA’s only true crossover star. Even Beyoncé is in on the fandom, playing Rousey’s now-famous “do-nothing bitch” remarks for an interlude during her concerts this year.
That catchphrase, in response to criticisms of Rousey’s body as too “masculine”, invoked a lesson from her mother, herself a world champion judoka, about not being the kind of woman “that just tries to be pretty and be taken care of by somebody else”.
While the response to the pop-up movement was largely positive – the idea that women’s bodies were strong, purposeful and not just there for men’s enjoyment was a welcome one – there was also some critical backlash. Alanna Vagianos at the Huffington Post, for example, questioned Rousey’s implicit criticism of other women, asking who, exactly, a “do-nothing bitch” was: “Is she the stay-at-home mom or housewife? Is she the sugar baby who sleeps with older men to fund her education?”
Part of being a MMA fighter is the unnuanced bravado and trash talk, so Rousey adding a caveat about stay-at-home moms or women who “choose their choice” doesn’t exactly vibe. And despite the mainstream glossy version of the term, feminism has never been about being nice to other women, or blindly respecting their choices because of a shared gender: it’s a movement for social, economic and political equality.
That said, Rousey does exemplify the sort of public figure that has come under question for their politics lately. Fondly called problematic faves, these are celebrities who you admire but occasionally say regrettable (or downright horrible) things. Think Trevor Noah or Taylor Swift.
For fans of Rousey, they get statements that feel all over the map. Her DNB movement gave her body image cred, for example, and she’s spoken out on domestic violence, refusing to fight a man because “I don’t think it’s a great idea to have a man hitting a woman on television” and calling out boxing champion Floyd Mayweather on his history of abuse. (When Rousey won the Best Fighter Award at the ESPYs, she said, “I wonder how Floyd feels being beat by a woman for once”.) And though her statements about equal pay have certainly been middling, they aren’t nearly as exciting as conservatives seem to think they are: saying that women should earn what they’re worth is pretty in line with feminist thinking.
But the fighter has also been taken to the mat by feminists for offenses from the mundane – she was accused of “lube shaming” after saying that men should take enough time during foreplay so that a woman doesn’t need any – to the quite serious: those horrific comments about Fallon Fox, the first openly transgender fighter in MMA history which she never fully backed off from when given the opportunity. She’s even tweeted out a video questioning whether the massacre at Sandy Hook elementary school was real.
The debate over who Rousey is and what she stands for isn’t just about one woman, though: it’s a vivid illustration of how much American culture wants their public figures to be two-dimensional and their politics easy to understand. But people, and feminism, are complicated. A person can be simultaneously inspiring and gravely disappointing. The hope, with anyone and their politics, is that they continue to grow and evolve and learn from their mistakes. As for Rousey, she strikes me as someone who has benefitted from feminism more than she is someone upholding it. But that’s fine – not every female champion needs to be a feminist icon.
This week Rousey told Rolling Stone that she’s going to “disappear” for a while after her fight with Holly Holm on Saturday in the main event of UFC 193. That just means we’ll have plenty of time to fight about her while she’s gone.
It’s not hard to see why there’s been so much excitement around Rousey, both within and beyond sports. Less than five years after UFC president Dana White said that women would “never” be allowed to compete in the world’s leading mixed martial arts promotion, Rousey has become his biggest star (and it’s not particularly close). Eight of her 12 career wins have ended in less than a minute, earning her a place on the front of Sports Illustrated – no small feat given the mag’s dismal track record with female cover subjects – beside a screaming headline that dubbed her the “world’s most dominant athlete”. She’s co-starred in The Expendables 3 and Furious 7 and will soon star in a remake of the 80s cult classic Roadhouse, cementing her status as MMA’s only true crossover star. Even Beyoncé is in on the fandom, playing Rousey’s now-famous “do-nothing bitch” remarks for an interlude during her concerts this year.
That catchphrase, in response to criticisms of Rousey’s body as too “masculine”, invoked a lesson from her mother, herself a world champion judoka, about not being the kind of woman “that just tries to be pretty and be taken care of by somebody else”.
The remarks went viral in August and prompted the fighter to sell a limited-edition shirt emblazoned with the slogan with a portion of proceeds going to Didi Hirsch Mental Health Services, a 501(c)(3) charity for women with body image issues. A trademark application soon followed.
Listen, just because my body was developed for a purpose other than fucking millionaires doesn’t mean it’s masculine ... I think it’s femininely bad-ass as fuck, because there not a single muscle in my body that isn’t used for a purpose, because I’m not a do-nothing bitch.
While the response to the pop-up movement was largely positive – the idea that women’s bodies were strong, purposeful and not just there for men’s enjoyment was a welcome one – there was also some critical backlash. Alanna Vagianos at the Huffington Post, for example, questioned Rousey’s implicit criticism of other women, asking who, exactly, a “do-nothing bitch” was: “Is she the stay-at-home mom or housewife? Is she the sugar baby who sleeps with older men to fund her education?”
Part of being a MMA fighter is the unnuanced bravado and trash talk, so Rousey adding a caveat about stay-at-home moms or women who “choose their choice” doesn’t exactly vibe. And despite the mainstream glossy version of the term, feminism has never been about being nice to other women, or blindly respecting their choices because of a shared gender: it’s a movement for social, economic and political equality.
That said, Rousey does exemplify the sort of public figure that has come under question for their politics lately. Fondly called problematic faves, these are celebrities who you admire but occasionally say regrettable (or downright horrible) things. Think Trevor Noah or Taylor Swift.
For fans of Rousey, they get statements that feel all over the map. Her DNB movement gave her body image cred, for example, and she’s spoken out on domestic violence, refusing to fight a man because “I don’t think it’s a great idea to have a man hitting a woman on television” and calling out boxing champion Floyd Mayweather on his history of abuse. (When Rousey won the Best Fighter Award at the ESPYs, she said, “I wonder how Floyd feels being beat by a woman for once”.) And though her statements about equal pay have certainly been middling, they aren’t nearly as exciting as conservatives seem to think they are: saying that women should earn what they’re worth is pretty in line with feminist thinking.
But the fighter has also been taken to the mat by feminists for offenses from the mundane – she was accused of “lube shaming” after saying that men should take enough time during foreplay so that a woman doesn’t need any – to the quite serious: those horrific comments about Fallon Fox, the first openly transgender fighter in MMA history which she never fully backed off from when given the opportunity. She’s even tweeted out a video questioning whether the massacre at Sandy Hook elementary school was real.
The debate over who Rousey is and what she stands for isn’t just about one woman, though: it’s a vivid illustration of how much American culture wants their public figures to be two-dimensional and their politics easy to understand. But people, and feminism, are complicated. A person can be simultaneously inspiring and gravely disappointing. The hope, with anyone and their politics, is that they continue to grow and evolve and learn from their mistakes. As for Rousey, she strikes me as someone who has benefitted from feminism more than she is someone upholding it. But that’s fine – not every female champion needs to be a feminist icon.
This week Rousey told Rolling Stone that she’s going to “disappear” for a while after her fight with Holly Holm on Saturday in the main event of UFC 193. That just means we’ll have plenty of time to fight about her while she’s gone.
No comments:
Post a Comment