Posts tagged men

GQ:

Sexual assault is alarmingly common in the U.S. military, and more than half of the victims are men. According to the Pentagon, thirty-eight military men are sexually assaulted every single day. These are the stories you never hear—because the culprits almost always go free, the survivors rarely speak, and no one in the military or Congress has done enough to stop it.

In 2009, Forbes rated designer Yves Saint Laurent the “Top-Earning Dead Celebrity” of the year. (Surely a bittersweet distinction.) Now, Saint Laurent’s success — and how it was shaped and fed by his lover and manager Pierre Berge — is the subject of the new film Yves Saint Laurent. In it, their relationship is both interactive and supportive. 

"Fashion is not a major art," Saint Laurent says in the film, to which Berge replies, "The way you do it, you have to be an artist." 

The Turbulent Love Story Behind Yves Saint Laurent’s Revolutionary Rise : NPR

In 2009, Forbes rated designer Yves Saint Laurent the “Top-Earning Dead Celebrity” of the year. (Surely a bittersweet distinction.) Now, Saint Laurent’s success — and how it was shaped and fed by his lover and manager Pierre Berge — is the subject of the new film Yves Saint Laurent. In it, their relationship is both interactive and supportive.

"Fashion is not a major art," Saint Laurent says in the film, to which Berge replies, "The way you do it, you have to be an artist."

The Turbulent Love Story Behind Yves Saint Laurent’s Revolutionary Rise : NPR

The true story of why my great-uncle was buried in a tree

Merritt Berry Pratt was born in the tiny hamlet of Paw Paw, Illinois on Oct. 3, 1878.

He was my grandmother’s older brother and was described in a 1959 biography by C. Raymond Clar as a “short, plump and rather handsome lad,” which, I suppose, was intended as some sort of compliment.

Merritt received a bachelor’s degree from the University of Chicago in 1904 and a master’s degree in forestry from Yale a year later, after which he was immediately hired by the newly-established United States Forest Service.

Merritt was assigned to the Tahoe National Forest, and at a 1906 Fourth of July picnic in Nevada City he met Laura May Schraeder, who became his wife the following year.

He left the Forest Service in 1914 to teach at UC Berkeley in the new Division of Forestry of the College of Agriculture, and four years later was appointed deputy California state forester in Sacramento.

On Nov. 25, 1921, Merritt Pratt became California’s fourth state forester when his boss, George Homans, died of injuries sustained in a car crash earlier that year.

The true story of why my great-uncle was buried in a tree

Merritt Berry Pratt was born in the tiny hamlet of Paw Paw, Illinois on Oct. 3, 1878.

He was my grandmother’s older brother and was described in a 1959 biography by C. Raymond Clar as a “short, plump and rather handsome lad,” which, I suppose, was intended as some sort of compliment.

Merritt received a bachelor’s degree from the University of Chicago in 1904 and a master’s degree in forestry from Yale a year later, after which he was immediately hired by the newly-established United States Forest Service.

Merritt was assigned to the Tahoe National Forest, and at a 1906 Fourth of July picnic in Nevada City he met Laura May Schraeder, who became his wife the following year.

He left the Forest Service in 1914 to teach at UC Berkeley in the new Division of Forestry of the College of Agriculture, and four years later was appointed deputy California state forester in Sacramento.

On Nov. 25, 1921, Merritt Pratt became California’s fourth state forester when his boss, George Homans, died of injuries sustained in a car crash earlier that year.

When I heard that my 21-year-old son, a student at Harvard, had been stopped by New York City police on more than one occasion during the brief summer he spent as a Wall Street intern, I was angry. 

On one occasion, while wearing his best business suit, he was forced to lie face-down on a filthy sidewalk because—well, let’s be honest about it, because of the color of his skin. As an attorney and a college professor who teaches criminal justice classes, I knew that his constitutional rights had been violated. 

As a parent, I feared for his safety at the hands of the police—a fear that I feel every single day, whether he is in New York or elsewhere. 

Moreover, as the white father of an African-American son, I am keenly aware that I never face the suspicion and indignities that my son continuously confronts. In fact, all of the men among my African-American in-laws—and I literally mean every single one of them—can tell multiple stories of unjustified investigatory police stops of the sort that not a single one of my white male relatives has ever experienced. 

What I Learned About Stop-and-Frisk From Watching My Black Son - The Atlantic

When I heard that my 21-year-old son, a student at Harvard, had been stopped by New York City police on more than one occasion during the brief summer he spent as a Wall Street intern, I was angry.

On one occasion, while wearing his best business suit, he was forced to lie face-down on a filthy sidewalk because—well, let’s be honest about it, because of the color of his skin. As an attorney and a college professor who teaches criminal justice classes, I knew that his constitutional rights had been violated.

As a parent, I feared for his safety at the hands of the police—a fear that I feel every single day, whether he is in New York or elsewhere.

Moreover, as the white father of an African-American son, I am keenly aware that I never face the suspicion and indignities that my son continuously confronts. In fact, all of the men among my African-American in-laws—and I literally mean every single one of them—can tell multiple stories of unjustified investigatory police stops of the sort that not a single one of my white male relatives has ever experienced.

What I Learned About Stop-and-Frisk From Watching My Black Son - The Atlantic

It began hundreds of years ago, deep in the Albanian Alps—an unusual tradition where women, with limited options in life, took the oath of the burrnesha. A pledge to live as a man. To dress like a man, to work like a man, to assume the burdens and the liberties of a man. 

But these freedoms came with a price: The burrneshas also made a pledge of lifelong celibacy. Today these sworn virgins live on, but their numbers have dwindled. Many Albanians don’t even know they exist. 

What happens when the society that created you no longer needs you? And how do you live in the meantime? 

The Oath of the Burrnesha: Women Living as Men in the Albanian Alps

It began hundreds of years ago, deep in the Albanian Alps—an unusual tradition where women, with limited options in life, took the oath of the burrnesha. A pledge to live as a man. To dress like a man, to work like a man, to assume the burdens and the liberties of a man.

But these freedoms came with a price: The burrneshas also made a pledge of lifelong celibacy. Today these sworn virgins live on, but their numbers have dwindled. Many Albanians don’t even know they exist.

What happens when the society that created you no longer needs you? And how do you live in the meantime?

The Oath of the Burrnesha: Women Living as Men in the Albanian Alps

According to data from the American Judges’ Association, 70 percent of contested custody cases involving domestic violence eventually grant joint or sole custody to the abuser.
Eliza Shapiro reports on the hurdles rich abused women face, from disbelief by peers to the ‘legal dream teams’ hired by high-income husbands, which results in statistics like the above.