Writes Judith Warner, after remembering a painful few years of early-teen cruelty,

In fiction. It's what I hope my next book project will be, you see: a tween time-travel novel set in 1977, when there really was a roller rink on Waverly Place, and I was in 7th grade...The book is ostensibly all about a daughter's learning that she can't meddle in her mother's (past) life; she has to let her have bad experiences and grow up to be who she is destined to be. But it's not coincidental that, in the course of learning these lessons, my fictional daughter lives in a world completely controlled, defined and circumscribed by me.

What's as interesting as Warner's interesting piece is the reaction from readers: the comments section is filled with stories of well-remembered pain and a sense of its injustice that never goes away, even if it fades. (That headline quote comes from one of these readers.) There's something about that age, on the cusp of childhood, that's particularly vulnerable. (There's a reason they made a movie, 13, abut this very period.) Yesterday, talking about Tavi the pre-teen blogger, we editors reminisced about our own 13-year-old accomplishments and the wondrous potential of that age. In fact, it's a time I try to avoid thinking about, since it's when the cozy cocoon of childhood broke and I found myself the target of casual mockery on a daily basis. It's funny: I had not acknowledged that for years; I'd blocked 7th grade completely from my consciousness. But it's when I went from self-assured and oblivious to aware that I was unattractive and tiny and ridiculous with my piping voice and big vocabulary. I remember primarily a sense of bewildered inadequacy, a wish to go unnoticed in the halls or the lunchroom and avoid a jibe or a throwaway remark that my antagonists surely forgot as soon as I was out of sight. Most people didn't bother to be cruel, but there were enough. I'm reminded, if forced to think about that time, of the humiliating day when it all became too much and I broke down sobbing in class and was sent home, a victim. And I cease to feel like a normal-looking adult with a career and a basically-average height, and become a nonentity. This isn't even a particularly traumatic case - it's more average than not. Certainly not a horror story, and no cousin to the very real tragedies that we see week after week. But even now, thinking of those days of timing my trips through the halls so as to avoid other kids, or slipping into a seat just as class started so no one would have a chance to make fun of me, causes the base of my skull to tighten with a well-remembered tension.

Warner wishes both to spare her daughter that pain and reconnect with her younger self, and she's clearly not alone: when one looks at the adult women questioning the work of a 13-year-old girl, it's hard not to wonder if they, too, have scars dating back to that age. And wondering, per that commenter's remark, where they and so many other successful women fell on the bullying/victim spectrum.

40 Is Not The New 12 [NY Times]

Earlier: Elle Editor Leads Backlash Against 13-Year-Old Fashion Blogger

In a battle for who can say the most undermining thing, Joe Scarborough suggests that Bill Clinton travel to Africa on a "mission of mercy" and rescue his wife, just as he rescued Laura Ling and Euna Lee. Because getting criticized in the media for standing up for yourself (all this analysis is apropos of Clinton's comment that "my husband is not the Secretary of State, I am") is just like being captured by dictatorial regime, and being rescued by her husband is exactly what Secretary Clinton needs to help the world take her policies more seriously. But Tina Brown interrupts this already offensive suggestion to basically call Clinton fat. How is Clinton supposed to make good on her promise to make women's issues "central" to foreign policy, if the US media keeps making her looks and her husband central to her policy?

In her latest 'Domestic Disturbances' column, Times opinion writer Warner writes,

As she circles the globe in coming years, making the case for women's empowerment, starting with their basic right to be taken seriously, Clinton really has her work cut out for her. And it isn't just because the situation of women around the world is so dire, and the ocean of problems confronting them - maternal mortality, sex trafficking, domestic abuse, malnourishment, lack of education, lack of adequate medical care, just for starters - is so wide and so deep. [...] It's also because the tide of trivialization that washes over all things "Hillary" is just so powerful. That tide threatens to drown out anything of substance Clinton might attempt for a population whose problems have long been obscured in the androcentric world of diplomacy. And that's a huge pity.

Both Scarborough and Brown imply that Clinton needs to make us respect her, either by "being careful what [she says] in front of cameras" (Scarborough) or, by working out more (Brown). But why is "trivialization" our default mode? Of course, Hillary Clinton isn't our first female Secretary of State, and her current position as figure of fun may have to do with her longstanding role in the Clinton media circus. Because of her husband's indiscretions, people got used to making jokes about her personal life and appearance long before she ran for President or held a Cabinet position. But those jokes weren't acceptable then (remember all the scrutiny of her thighs?), and they're even less acceptable now that she's trying to be an ambassador for women's rights around the world.

In fact, today, Clinton will visit the African nation of Liberia, where she will meet with President Ellen Johnson Sirleaf, Africa's first female head of state. Yesterday, she told a Nigerian talk show host,

From a moral perspective, we?re in the 21st century; all human beings, no matter what religion or ideology you reference, have the right to develop to their God-given potential. And too many women in too many parts of Africa are not being developed fully.

Will anyone pay attention to this message, much-needed not just in Africa but throughout the world? "Maybe," says Warner, "if we stop viewing everything Clinton does as entertainment."

Hillary Fights A Tide of Trivialization [NYT]
Clinton Heads To Liberia To Show Women Power [AFP]

The tone of the comments on our Palin acceptance speech live blog was pretty similar; in fact, this comment says it all: "I want to punch her in the face and ruin her shit. Fuck her for ruining this historic moment. THANKS SARAH, THE HOTTEST VP."

And the question now is why? Why does this particular pitbull in lipstick infuriate — and scare us — so viscerally? Why does her very existence make us feel — and act — so ugly? New York Times columnist Judith Warner calls Palin's nomination a "thoroughgoing humiliation for America’s women," because "Palin’s not intimidating, and makes it clear that she’s subordinate to a great man." Palin, who obviously is incredibly ambitious, masks that ambition behind her PTA placard and "folksy" talk. In the oft-replayed tape from earlier this summer, when asked about the Vice Presidency, Palin notoriously said, '“I’m used to bein’ very productive and workin’ real hard in an administration and we want to make sure that that ‘V.P.’ slot would be a fruitful type of position.”

I think what Ms. Warner is dancing around, but not saying outright, is that for a certain kind of feminist, Palin is a symbol for everything we hoped was not true in the world anymore. We hoped that we didn't have to hide our ambition or pretend that our goals were effortlessly achieved ("I never really set out to be in public affairs, much less to run for this office," the Governor has said.) We hoped that we could be mothers without having our motherhood be our defining characteristic, as it seems to be for Palin. We hoped that we did not have to be perfect beauty queens to get to where we wanted to be in life, that our looks, good or bad, wouldn't matter. Whether or not you think it's appropriate to comment on Palin's appearance, the fact of her attractiveness exists, and is being used to her advantage by Republican sloganeers ("the hottest Governor in the coldest state," et. al).

Keith Olbermann called Sarah Palin "Tracy Flick" after her speech on Wednesday, and I think that's not a perfect parallel. Tracy, while completely ruthless (as Palin has shown herself to be so far with that nasty community organizer comment), never hid her ambition behind a polished veneer — it was as plain as the bows in her hair. No, I think the correct high school stereotype is of the homecoming queen. For many of us looking back at high school, we can now feel a smug superiority towards the homecoming queen. Sure, she was pretty and popular in high school, catering to the whims of boys and cheering on their hockey games, but what happened to her after high school? Often, she popped out some kids and ended up toiling in some not particularly impressive job. We can look back and say, we might have been ambitious nerds in high school, but it ultimately paid off. What's infuriating, and perhaps rage-inducing, about Palin, is that she has always embodied that perfectly pleasing female archetype, playing by the boys' game with her big guns and moose-murdering, and that she keeps being rewarded for it. Our schadenfreude for the homecoming queen's mediocrity has turned into white hot anger at her continued dominance.

The Mirrored Ceiling [NYT]

Earlier: Sarah Palin's "Feminism" Is Irrelevant To Her Irresponsible Record
Why Bristol Palin's Pregnancy Should Be Fair Game To Pundits, If Not Democrats
Sarah Palin, The Life-iest Pro-Life Candidate Who Ever Scared The Crap Out Of Me