5.16.2008

Reconciling My Feminist Sorority Sister Identity

The progressive climate of the university poses a paradoxical environment for members of the Greek community. Reconciling the identities of being a sorority sister and a self proclaimed feminist requires shifting personal values on my part. Being a sorority sister and considering myself a feminist is problematic in that they are mutually exclusive identities.

A sorority promotes certain characteristics to form an ideal woman. The clash between my two identities revolves around the fact that these characteristics are not necessarily correct. In a sorority, there is the expectation that sisters embody these characteristics. Pledges must meet the sisters’ expectation of an ideal women in order to gain access to sorority benefits. This may involve changing personal values to conform to their expectations. Only when the sisters approve, can access be granted to their social networking, philanthropy events, and sisterhood..

When I enter the Greek community I automatically assimilate to sexist gender roles. I find this very natural. I grew up in a patriarchal home, so the rules are not new to me. Sorority values of an ideal woman are similar to those that my parents fostered at home, explaining my ability to be so comfortable in that role. This also explains my habitual assimilation to gender roles and lack feminist response when I play into them. In my sorority sister identity I recognize the sexism, but it doesn’t trigger the feminist in me until after the fact.

I play at being a sister because I do not always embody their definition of the ideal women. But it is not until I challenge that definition that I consider myself playing my feminist identity.

Table Tennis under Both Casual Play and Eco’s Theory of Spectator Sport

In America, people commonly have table tennis (also known as ping pong) tables in their basements for casual fun. This type of play encourages a general misconception that table tennis is just a game and not a true “sport” like basketball or soccer. What separates these two is the sense of competition. When playing table tennis, there is a feeling that winning or losing does not matter because it is simply a game for fun, whereas basketball proves a certain level of skill and ability. Before moving further, some of the word choices must be clarified. The term sport, as I have referred to it, is used under Umberto Eco’s sense of “spectator sport” while casual play of the game is what he describes as the noble “sport” (169). Although Eco adores the spirit of sport itself, spectator sports disgust him due to the emotion and passion they arouse in the audience and how they dehumanize the athletes. Unlike most people who enjoy table tennis solely as a casual game, I play the sport under both of Eco’s definitions.

Any serious spectator sport can be played for fun as a casual sport. According to Eco, sport is when a person “with no financial incentive, and employing his own body directly, performs physical exercises” (169). He describes this act as “very beautiful” (169). When I play table tennis every week, it is under these conditions. The goal of playing is to have fun socializing with friends, exercise the mind and body, and enjoy the intricacies of the game itself. After becoming familiar with table tennis, a sense of touch is developed for how the various shots feel. Topspin, sidespin, and backspin all have unique strokes and a different feeling. When playing the game for fun, there is freedom to explore the various possibilities and try out new strategies or shots that feel good. This innovation and choice of options is one aspect of the game that appeals to most players.

When played as a competitive sport, the goal of table tennis becomes winning just like any other spectator sport. From the transition of casual play to serious competition, much of the “beauty” that Eco admires is lost. As he describes it, “[contest] reduces excess action, but it is really a mechanism to neutralize action” (161). After playing in various competitions, I had realized that the best way to win was to choose my most reliable shots every time. My freedom of choice was sacrificed in exchange for the best chance of winning, and my strategy became whatever would give me the victory in the end. In this way, I became limited in my options. Playing in a major tournament recently, I can understand what Eco means by “professionals [are] subjected to tensions not unlike those of an assembly-line worker” (169). These workers are essentially robotic, working monotonously to become consistent and do their one specific task. In spectator sports, this is what athletes are trained to be, or as Eco puts it, “the raising of human beings dedicated to competition” (161). As a spectator sport, table tennis had become something different from just play to me. Instead of playing to enjoy the game, the priority of limiting myself to consistency for the sake of winning had taken over.

Although there is also winning and losing in casual play, there is nothing at stake. Once spectators are brought into consideration, there is much at line for the athletes. Playing in front of my team mates and the opponent’s parents, while simultaneously representing my school, led to a feeling that I had to prove my worth out there, which inevitably led to much pressure and nervousness. Although in my case, the concept of play cannot be applied to competitive spectator sports, they are not necessarily mutually exclusive. Many professional athletes, whether for the enjoyment and fun of winning, or for the sake of their audience, must adhere to strict guidelines in order to stay at the top of what they do. They enjoy being put under the spotlight and these are what Eco describes as “monsters,” people who “turn [their] body into the seat and exclusive source of a continuous play” (161). These athletes play specifically to win and can excel under the pressure and stress involved with the sport.

Because of a lack of familiarity with the sport, table tennis is commonly seen as simply a game. However, it must be realized that any game, as long as there is some skill required, can be played as a competitive spectator sport. Even in the case of table tennis being played in a basement, if there is pride at stake then the game changes. Winning prioritizes the other factors in the game and the play mood changes. Fun in this case almost necessarily becomes a by-product of winning. Because skill dictates competitiveness, which is the main deciding factor in what spectator sport is other than physical activity, even video games and card games like poker have fallen under this category. This sense of casual play versus serious sport and the change in mindset of the players are encountered within most games. Perhaps with further exposure, table tennis will someday enjoy the same popularity that a mainstream sport like football does.

Works Cited
Eco, Umberto. Travels in Hyperreality. Trans. William Weaver. New York: Harcourt, 1986

Water Polo As “Play and War”: A Theoretical Analysis Through the Lens of Johan Huizinga

The theories of Johan Huizinga in his book, Homo Ludens, regarding play and war relate directly to many sports, specifically water polo. Water polo is a sport requiring physical and mental strength of a different caliber than all other sports. The concept of play in the game can similarly be compared to the international law that Huizinga speaks of on page 208 of Homo Ludens. Huizinga’s description of the supposed etiquette to be followed under international law governs most of our everyday lives. The main principles, for anything to be successful, Huizinga says, lay “outside the strict domain of law,” (pg. 208). Additionally, Huizinga “explicitly recognizes that the integrity of the system rests on a general willingness to keep to the rules,” (p. 208). This system for which international law is maintained is replicated and enforced for the sport of water polo in an all-to-similar fashion and is more formerly know as the NCAA 9-to-5 Drug Testing Policy (UC Berkeley, Department of Sports Medicine). This drug testing policy primarily serves as a guideline for the athletes with hope sustaining eligibility. Breaking any of the rules by using any of the banned substances results in a dismissal from the team and becoming ineligible. The similarities between this athletic policy and international law fall hand in hand as well with war. War in the international sense is the physical violence between two or more States. In the athletic sense, it is the physical competition one team faces with another. During water polo, often, play and war are closely related. The physicality, rules and code of conduct are what link the aspect of play in water polo to play and war.

The relationship between play and war, Huizinga says, “can be cruel and bloody and, in addition, can often be false play,” (p. 208). More importantly, however, his work describing archaic warfare as a noble game is also applicable to the sport of water polo due to the games development of such a prestigious and commendable set of rules and guidelines. The principles Huizinga speaks of (p. 208), when he perceives war as a noble game, are emulated for the foundation on which water polo is made. “Honour, decency, and good form,” are the play-rules that the noble game of war is based on. The expectations that men will fight with honor, fight with high morals, and fight by the rules. Once these play-rules have been broken, society, in this case water polo, “falls into barbarism and chaos,” (p. 210). In the context of a water polo game, when these play-rules have been broken, something called “clearing the bench,” happens. At this point, Huizinga says that, “the code of honour is flouted, the rules of the game are set aside, international law is broken, and all the ancient associations of war with ritual and religion are gone,” (p. 210). The relationship between play and war and the many meanings of the pair serves as an adequate tool for the in-depth analysis of a rigorous sport such as water polo.

Works Cited
• Huizinga, Jonah. Homo Ludens. Beacon Books, 1971.
• NCAA Drug Testing. Berkeley: UC Berkeley, 2007.