Literature can train, and exercise, our ability to weep for those who are not us or ours.
Who would we be if we could not sympathize with those who are not us or ours? Who would we be if we could not forget ourselves, at least some of the time? Who would we be if we could not learn? Forgive? Become something other than we are?
A Day in the Life of a Sexologist: The most hideous anti-abortion protest, and most inspiring counter protest, you've ever seen
Trigger warning for… well, just about everything. Graphic (not kidding, GRAPHIC) photographs of dead fetuses, murdered bodies including racially motivated lynchings and genocide victims, children bruised from abuse, and animal cruelty, are contained in this post. (Can you see why we needed to…
She knows loss intimately,
carries whole cities in her belly.
As a child, relatives wouldn’t hold her.
She was splintered wood and sea water.
They said she reminded them of the war.
On her fifteenth birthday you taught her
how to tie her hair like rope
and smoke it over burning frankincense.
You made her gargle rosewater
and while she coughed, said
macaanto girls like you shouldn’t smell
of lonely or empty.
You are her mother.
Why did you not warn her,
hold her like a rotting boat
and tell her that men will not love her
if she is covered in continents,
if her teeth are small colonies,
if her stomach is an island
if her thighs are borders?
What man wants to lay down
and watch the world burn
in his bedroom?
Your daughter’s face is a small riot,
her hands are a civil war,
a refugee camp behind each ear,
a body littered with ugly things
doesn’t she wear
the world well.
It’s so nice
to wake up in the morning
and not have to tell somebody
you love them
when you don’t love them
Why Society Still Needs Feminism
Because to men, a key is a device to open something. For women, it’s a weapon we hold between our fingers when we’re walking alone at night.
Because the biggest insult for a guy is to be called a “pussy,” a “little bitch” or a “girl.” From here on out, being called a “pussy” is an effing badge of honor.
Because last month, my politics professor asked the class if women should have equal representation in the Supreme Court, and only three out of 42 people raised their hands.
Because rape jokes are still a thing.
Because despite being equally broke college kids, guys are still expected to pay for dates, drinks and flowers.
Because as a legit student group, Campus Fellowship does not allow women to lead anything involving men. Look, I know Eve was dumb about the whole apple and snake thing, but I think we can agree having a vagina does not directly impact your ability to lead a
Because it’s assumed that if you are nice to a girl, she owes you sex — therefore, if she turns you down, she’s a bitch who’s put you in the “friend zone.” Sorry, bro, women are not machines you put kindness coins into until sex falls out.
Because only 29 percent of American women identify as feminist, and in the words of author Caitlin Moran, “What part of ‘liberation for women’ is not for you? Is it freedom to vote? The right not to be owned by the man you marry? The campaign for equal pay? Did all that good shit get on your nerves? Or were you just drunk at the time
of the survey?”
Because when people hear the term feminist, they honestly think of women burning bras. Dude, have you ever bought a bra? No one would burn them because they’re freaking
Because Rush Limbaugh.
Because we now have a record number of women in the Senate … which is a measly 20 out of 100. Congrats, USA, we’ve gone up to 78th place for women’s political representation, still below China, Rwanda and Iraq.
Because recently I had a discussion with a couple of well-meaning Drake University guys, and they literally could not fathom how catcalling a woman walking down University Avenue is creepy and sexist.
Could. Not. Fathom.
Because on average, the tenured male professors at Drake make more than the tenured female professors.
Because more people on campus complain about chalked statistics regarding sexual assault than complain about the existence of sexual assault. Priorities? Have them.
Because 138 House Republicans voted against the Violence Against Women Act. All 138 felt it shouldn’t provide support for Native women, LGBT people or immigrant women. I’m kind of confused by this, because I thought LGBT people and women of color were also human beings.
Because a girl was roofied last semester at a local campus bar, and I heard someone say they think she should have been more careful. Being drugged is her fault, not the fault of the person who put drugs in her drink?
Because Chris Brown beat Rihanna so badly she was hospitalized, yet he still has fans and bestselling songs and a tattoo of an abused woman on his neck.
Because out of 7 billion people on the planet, more than 1 billion women will be raped or beaten in their lifetimes. Women and girls have their clitorises cut out, acid thrown on them and broken bottles shoved up them as an act of war. Every second of every day. Every corner of the Earth.
Because the other day, another friend of mine told me she was raped, and I can no longer count on both my hands the number of friends who have told me they’ve been sexually assaulted. Words can’t express how scared I am that I’m getting used to this.
Because a brief survey of reality will tell you that we do not live in a world that values all people equally and that sucks in real, very scary ways. Because you know we live in a sexist world when an awesome thing with the name “feminism” has a weird connotation. Because if I have kids someday, I want my son to be able to have emotions and play dress up, and I want my daughter to climb trees and care more about what’s in her head than what’s on it. Because I don’t want her to carry keys between her fingers at night to
Because feminism is for everybody, and this is your official invitation.
Sports pundits are still be trying to make yesterday’s Super Bowl all about the actual game (and yes, that 108-yard touchdown was pretty impressive), but let’s be honest with ourselves—the real winner of the game was Beyoncé’s halftime performance. And not just because she didn’t lip sync or because of the holograms, but because of the fact that for the first time in recent memory, women of color were the main focus of the show. Women who could dance. Women who could sing. Women who could play instruments with sparks shooting out of them.
And yet, still, predictably and sadly, there are people (many of them women) who want to make the show about the fact that Queen Bey wasn’t wearing saggy denims and an ill-fitting University of Somewhere sweatshirt. Instead, she wore a dominatrix-esque boydsuit that got rapidly smaller as the performance progressed. In a thread on the Binders Full Of Women Facebook community, the slut-shaming began with a speed that could make Oreo’s head spin.
It was a strip-tease! Why do women always have to be taking off their clothes! This does nothing to advance the position of women because there was too much skin visible!
Really? Didn’t we just have this conversation like a week ago when she was on the cover of GQ?
Sure, there were some problems with the performance—like, as Slate points out, how very little airtime bandmates Kelly and Michelle got, during which they sang a song that wasn’t even by Destiny’s Child—but the outfits? The outfits weren’t one of the problems.
Just like the outfit that Beyoncé wore on the cover of GQ wasn’t a problem because, in the interview, she actually had some pretty great stuff to say that advanced the ideas that women can be powerful. To quote Feministing’s excellent piece on the Great Panties Debacle of 2013, “feminism is totally cool with Beyonce posing in her underwear.”
Because, dear readers, that is part of being a lady in America. We have the choice to show off our thighs or keep them covered. We have the option to be sexy or to not be. And I’m going to be honest: If I were Beyoncé, I would never wear pants, ever. Because have you seen how strong and muscular and amazing her legs are?
Instead of going immediately to extremely tired lamentations of leather and exposed skin, let’s try to focus on the fact that yesterday, the world witnessed a captivating all-female performance during what is typically a brief intermission during an all-male sporting event.
As I watched Beyoncé last night, a confident, non-waify, black woman, owning her magnificence, owning her body, owning her talent and skill, owning her sensuality, owning her sexuality, unabashed, unapologetic and unashamed and unafraid I knew.
I knew that within hours, complaints about her…
It’s interesting - I LOVED her performance, but then I saw a post on FB from a Middle Eastern girl BASHING her. “I almost threw my lungs up”.. and every of her friends started defending that it was “disgusting” when I was trying to tell them to STFU. What the mother effing fuck.
- Asked for a price-match on a puppy exercise pen
- Bought a rope toy
- Found a vet to contact
- Explored safe toy options (realized I already have a few!)
- Almost decided on a crate
Still to do?
- Food/water bowls
- Nature’s miracle
- Decide on puppy pads vs. fake grass
- Dental kit
- Poopoo bags
- Food and treats! (Closer to when she comes home)
I’ve also found a place that I will most likely spay her (unless this new vet provides a better/cheaper option) (most likely the OSPCA), but I will need to get her microchipped skanyways. EEP. 3 weeks!
I have a new project with some of my best friends from school called,
And it’s fucking baller.