Every day people, like me, are banging their heads on their desks, asking "What is wrong with that woman?" "Why is she doing that?" "Doesn't she realize she's being used by a system that denigrates her?" Women in these positions clearly don't see it that way.
Imagine my excitement when I learned that Miss Representation was to air on television. I fervently wish that this scathing documentary about the American media's treatment of women's bodies had been around when I was a teenager.
When my daughter was twelve, I asked her what she and her girlfriends were going to be for Halloween. She casually mentioned that one of the girls in her class was going to be a prostitute, and one of the boys would be going as her pimp.