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Monday, January 2, 2017

Theoretical Goodness


I think the best parts of me are almost gone now. My depression has eaten away at every facet of my life and left me with very little self. What's left of me isn't very nice. Or strong. Or even relevant.

The New Year's bombing in Nigeria and shooting in Istanbul are matters of fact that I saw in headlines. My initial reaction to tragedy has always been horror and pain. Much to the dismay of others in my life, I have always been incredibly empathetic to the point where I could lose sleep for nights in a row, even as a child, worried and crying about the plight of a stranger. I loved that about myself. I would not have traded it. It proved to me, if to no one else, that I was a good person with a good heart. It's gone.

I still know the difference between right and wrong; good and bad; left and right. I still know what is supposed to break my heart when I see it in the news, but my heart doesn't break any more. I'm not sure it's even in there. Everything is just a matter of fact. Its all a thing that happened. Its all going to be a thing that was going to happen because we have, as a society and as a world, embraced the very least among us in 'leadership' and told the marginalized among us, 'Yeah. Too fucking bad.' I'm not sad. I'm only angry. I only have anger. And hate. Anything lovely that once lived inside of me seems to be gone.

Something inside me still exists, though I can't identify it. But I have come to the end of this revelation and find that I'm crying for my loss. So there's that.

Friday, October 9, 2015

Legacy


My childhood home had a family room with no functional familial use beyond offering a great spot for hide and seek behind the couch. It was merely the room we walked through to get to the garage whenever we went anywhere. There was a large black and white portrait hanging predominately in the center of the room that always scared me when I was young. It was of a gentleman from the 1800s who didn't look the least bit friendly. Our home had black and white pictures everywhere. For a reason I have never quite ascertained, it was very important for the images of those who came before us to be displayed throughout the home.

I was so proud when I finally asked the story of the scary man in the family room. It turned out he owned a home that had a secret basement which was a stop on the Underground Railroad. My young mind was always trying to understand, and my tender heart was always trying to differentiate between, right and wrong. There was nothing more right to me than a person making personal sacrifices to save others from the evils of slavery. I was excited to tell people that I had such a cool ancestor in my family tree. At the same time, I was aware that it wasn't really my family tree.

Having been adopted, there were never times that either I felt 100% like a member of the family or that others went out of their way to make me feel 100% like a member of the family. Because of this, I was always careful to preface any recountings of my great-great-great grandfather's story with a reminder that I had been adopted. Its pretty sad just to type that. Imagine a child excitedly telling you something about their family but believing that you needed to know it wasn't really her family. Take that revelation one step further to acknowledge that she was comfortable in that place and those who should've taught her there was no variable didn't feel it was necessary to do so.

When I was in middle school, I remember being frustrated telling my friends about my family legacy because they didn't feel like it was as cool as I did. I was even more frustrated by the fact that my family didn't seem too incredibly impressed, either. It was more of a matter-of-fact and his picture was something my mother had basically won in a family lottery of items passed down when someone or other died. The portrait was added to the wall of the room that no one really used as many other pictures of people no one could recall had been throughout the house.

To this day I wonder if my brother and sister, who were not adopted and are related by blood to this man, would be able to tell you his story. I wonder if they even remember the amazing history we were given about our family and the strength of those who came before us. It feels as if they have no knowledge or care of actual legacy whatsoever.

I recently started creating my own family tree on ancestry.com. It was a journey to see how far I could go back with the very limited information I have about my natural family (my grandmother came from Italy and I have her Americanized name). But I was really excited to see if I could work on the tree of the family I grew up with and know as my family. I was hoping to eventually get back to a place where I could learn more about this house and its place on the Underground Railroad. During my search I got several hints from the website about family members that others had in their trees and I would open them to get the information they had already found. I got a hint last week that my sister had created a family tree and I excitedly went in there figuring she would have all of the same people I did and it would make my job pretty easy. Instead, I found a family tree quite devoid of very important information. Apparently, in the legacy she is willing to leave to future generations, she did not have a sister. She had a brother, my brother. She had parents, my parents. But she did not have me.

Family?

It is really hard to imagine that a human being would want to omit a person from their history who was the sister she had grown up with; who bought her a maternity wardrobe with her first pregnancy and then flew to Virginia on New Year's when that first niece was born; and who drove to Virginia when the second niece was born. I guess not having had an actual drop of blood in that bloodline overrides any actual remembrances of sisterhood, however.

The word legacy is powerful. It reminds us of all that has come before to create and enrich all that exists in this place. The lessons one generation determines necessary to pass on to the next are inside of that legacy. The traditions of community and interdependence come from that legacy. The stories of pride and remembrance come from that legacy. Even as a child I felt not quite entitled to the legacy of what came before me. But because it was the only one I had, I wanted to claim it nonetheless. I would certainly, at least, be thoughtful about the legacy I would leave future generations. The pain of realizing that my legacy will be quite irrelevant and forgotten to those whose lives I have shared is indescribable.

The saddest part about all of this is the fact that the very members of my family who have known me my entire life and should, by now, have found a way to empathize when I explain my feelings, refuse to hear this retelling beyond waiting for the pause so they can defend themselves. But many people who are completely removed from this story with no emotional connection to me whatsoever will come much closer to understanding my pain than those who can actually witness and lessen it.

Throughout my life I have gone through phases where I would remove myself from my family completely to dispel the pain of their carelessness and intolerance. I have always allowed criticisms, both internal and external, to counter my own better judgment and reenter my family out of commitment and dedication to the thing which it was meant to be. But the truth is: It is not what it was meant to be. It is never going to be what it was meant to be. The thing that it is creates pain. And alienation. The thing that it is expects acceptance of things I find unacceptable and ignorance of things I find to be imperatives.

Loneliness is the only substitute I've found for vulnerability. Neither are exemplar. Neither are healthy. But let no one question why those are the only two alternatives I have found after considering the legacy I have been afforded.




Monday, July 6, 2015

Disability


My brain is barely working these days. I am so tired. My depression is kicking my ass. I am safe in my home. That is my cure for my anxiety and agoraphobia. My car is safe. I can go to the bank or the pharmacy or fast food. Anything with a drive thru is safe. I can't explain any of this. I feel safe at the little store at the end of the street. I think it is because I have always shopped there and I know all of the kids who work there. There are no other places that I feel safe. If I have to go anywhere else I have to mentally prepare myself for days. I visualize the place and where the doors are. I have to plan on parking in an aisle in front of the door so I can get to it quickly. When I get inside I have to be able to see the door.

I didn't realize my ability to see the door was even a problem until it was a problem. I was at Kroger. I go in the middle of the night because I know there will be very few people. I was in the frozen section and I turned my cart around to head back down the aisle and noticed that I could not see the door. My body started shaking and I had to calm myself down and steady my breathing. It was ridiculous. It pisses me off. I honestly cannot control it even though I realize it is irrational.

When my daughter picked out her wedding dress last month it was important that I go with her. I had been to that bridal shop before and I could visualize the outside and the floor plan of the inside. I could not go into the aisles with her. My breathing became short and I just shook my head to let her know I was going to have to stand at the end of the aisles and watch what she picked out. The section where people wait for the bride to come out and model the dresses was within eyeshot of the door so that went well. That was the last time I left the house until this weekend.

I have no money. Rent is due by the 5th. I own my home but not the lot. I had to have $385 to pay my rent. I have an amazing wardrobe, most of which still have the tags on them. Last year after my first panic attack and when I was starting to evaluate my depression and anxiety I realized that I had never, in my life, believed that I had any value. When I lost 175 pounds I didn't even buy clothes. I would get handed down clothes from friends or whatever fit at the thrift store. I literally had a pair of size 22 pants that I would wear when I had made it down to a 12 and I would use binder clips to fold and keep the pants up. It was ridiculous. I never thought I was worth spending money on. Ever. When my daughter went to college I really started to realize I had nothing. I had created my life around her. And then I found the man that I was going to spend the rest of my life with and I began taking care of he and his daughter. I had value again. When the disaster happened and I had to leave my new family, I had no value again. And for the first time, I realized it. My value has always been what I can give to others. Its sick, honestly. But its true. I believe today my value is $250K because that is the life insurance policy that would pay out if I die. Seriously. Thats it.

Last year I tried to force myself to care for myself. In my entire adult life I had never had a wardrobe that I had picked out full of things that I loved and I thought I was adorable in. So I went shopping and I bought a kick ass wardrobe. I felt pretty for the first time in a very long time. I was so excited to wear my new clothes. When I went back to work my girlfriends would take pictures of me every day to show off my new clothes. I was only able to work for three weeks before I had to go back on disability because my boss was still harassing me and I ended up having four more panic attacks. That was June 23 of 2014. I have since had no reason to wear anything other than old t-shirts from when I wore a 3x and a pair of panties. I don't leave my house. So I don't need that gorgeous wardrobe.

(The tutu was not part of my new wardrobe, my friend made it for the pride parade)

Yesterday I went to a resale shop to sell my wardrobe. It was easily valued at least $5k. Most of it still had tags on them. While at the store I had to stand by the door to feel comfortable. I didn't want the lady to think I was just keeping an eye on her or trying to get her to hurry up so I told her that I have agoraphobia and am very uncomfortable in public and I apologized if I was making her uncomfortable. When it was time to check out she told me that her friend used to have agoraphobia, too. I asked how she got over it. She said, "She ran out of money and had to get a job." I cannot let that go. I cannot stop being pissed at her ignorance and her arrogance. Agoraphobia comes from anxiety. Having no capacity to pay your bills adds to your anxiety. She made it sound like her friend was being ridiculous and she finally got over herself. I felt bad for her friend. I am sure that she either didn't have agoraphobia or she was also in treatment and/or receiving medications. Either way she completely dismissed my situation as if I could just 'get over it' if things just get a little bit worse.

I am disgusted by people who just make assumptions about people the second they hear that they are on disability. A lot of people just assume that they are taking advantage of the system. Our society has been conditioned to make that assumption. I finally applied for disability with Social Security in early April of this year (the disability I was on last year was from my job and I didn't feel bad taking it because they created the entire scenario and then made it worse by HR and upper management deciding to just ignore the whole thing entirely). I could have filed March 2014. I never filed because I always figured I would be better by now. I never thought I would still be here and even worse. I have overcome all of the shit life has handed me. I always find a way. I am (was) a bad ass. I don't care anymore. I don't even want to be alive. I cannot be well in this situation and expected to leave my house and go to a job when sometimes after mentally preparing myself to go to the grocery store in the middle of the night I still have panic attacks and have to just not go. I don't have it in me to heal on my own. And, again, I have been on a waiting list for care for a very long time. I finally have an appointment at the end of this month.

The next time you hear someone say that they are on disability assume they have something wrong with them. Don't automatically determine that they are one of the people who take advantage of the system. You can be doing a sincere harm to someone who really is pretty close to just saying 'fuck it' altogether. I told the lady at the rental office that I was waiting on my disability and she looked me up and down and I just knew what she was thinking.

I don't believe that most people aspire to land on disability. I certainly didn't. And I don't mean to be on it for the rest of my life. I hope that once I start having treatment and therapy I can get myself straightened out and get back to my life. Just remember, many issues people face are not seen as they stand before you. MANY. Give people care. And support. And respect. You don't know what other people are dealing with.

Thursday, April 30, 2015

Dear Media:

Dear Media:

I am a patriotic American. No. Really. I don't just use that as a cheap buzz word because my talking heads told me that I am. I love my country and I sincerely want to help bring her to a healthy place.

As such, I need for you, collectively, to acknowledge your complicity in the tragic place we are finding ourselves at this time. As America is facing so much societal unrest, our journalists are not informing their audience beyond the generic aspects which are being offered on almost all other channels. What is the point of having multiple 24/7 news outlets if there is no means of differentiation? Our politics have become ridiculous. Out of fear, you neglect to report on much of it because you don't want to be condemned as illegitimate for 'liberal bias.' Of course, by offering your audience a deliberately filtered account of facts, you are defining your work as illegitimate. But for a different reason.

In this day and age where absolutely anyone can write and build an audience (ehem), the onus is on you to be the stalwart documentarians of the true chronicle we leave to history. As such, you are failing miserably. You have allowed your messages and their means of delivery to be dictated by your competition. And, thus, you have allowed the standards by which your industry has been maintained to be lowered. Profoundly.

When something newsworthy occurs in America, it is your responsibility to ask yourselves those essential 6 questions. Write them on a sticky note and tape it to your monitor or your cameraman, if necessary. You should always realize that those are the questions your audience is looking to have answered. When you focus too much on one or neglect another, altogether, you are not offering a complete account. You are doing your own legacy and your audience a disservice.

For instance: When a riot breaks out in a city because a ball team has won or lost a championship, ask why. This will be important for future comparisons when other riots break out to create distinctions between the two. And when riots do break out in the future, don't opine to your audience about how unbelievable this is to see in our society. Don't forget to inform them of all of the other riots America has seen lately about sports teams. When protests or rioting break out in a community which has been oppressed for decades, do not spend so much of your time on the who without an in-depth look at who and then asking the most important- why. Do not offer a lazy answer about a young man being murdered by the police. The history of that city and its struggles are important pieces to building the dialogue necessary for the comprehensive understanding Americans will need to have about that young mans death. America is really losing an opportunity to understand and identify with that community.

There is no need to excitedly anticipate the next negative event to happen in the community. Another cable channel will report on that and will feel free to report on it even if it doesn't happen. Take the high road and offer your audience the respect they deserve by rising to their intellectual level. Also, in offering your audience the story of the community, please avoid using derogatory language to define the newsmakers. As a hint: if any term is used repeatedly on the Fox channel, refrain from using it, you are lowering yourselves to a level that a thoughtful audience will want to disassociate from. Fox has their own built in audience, if you want to appeal to them on their level, you are not a journalist.

When you do a story about a politician, we want to have many questions answered that seem to be negated by all news outlets: Who are they? Why are they running for office? What is their platform?  How do they intend to make changes they seek?  Presently, the politicians are directing the narrative. If they do not answer the questions America wants answered, don't send the piece to air or print. They are using you as free publicity. And you are letting them.

You are offering politicians a voice to perpetuate their rhetoric. You are neither holding them nor yourselves accountable for what knowledge Americans are being afforded about those who are hoping to shape our futures. If a politician has nothing new to say, there is no need to report on their having repeated the same thing they said the day before. Allow your budget department and management to deal with the fact that they pay for a camera, sound and a reporter to follow them around waiting for them to be interesting. If they fail to offer you anything new, do not insult your audience by giving them bullshit and calling it news.

If a politician offered an actual platform, that would certainly be newsworthy. And if their platform is wildly different than what they have been saying on the stump about their 'ideals,' it is then your responsibility, as journalists, to ask them to explain their contradictions. Out of fear, you are allowing politicians to use you as a tool to manipulate the dialogue in American discourse and lowering the expectations anyone would have of a legitimate and sincere debate. Just because their audience doesn't want to have to use critical thought, doesn't mean the rest of us don't. Lets be honest, they have their own media and aren't listening to you anyway.

If someone has written a book which has not yet been released which offers outlandish information that has not yet been substantiated, that is not news. It should not be reported as such. You have, again, lowered yourselves to the level of the Fox channel. At present, you are competing with them. They are not your competition. Your work should first and foremost be mindful of the fact that, by virtue of their having an obvious bias with opinions they have been paid to have, they are not a credible news outlet. Kindly stop behaving otherwise.

How about you stop reporting it when politicians are offering rumors? How about you use your research skills to see if there is any "there" there before you report it and offer it to the American audience? How about you go back to what you learned when studying to become a journalist and reread the definitions of "newsworthy" and "credibility"?  Repeatedly. How about you only report on it when politicians actually create news? Currently you are rewarding them like giving a bone to a dog that has just shit on your floor.  How about you start conditioning them to only get to have the free publicity when they do something that a politician should be doing? You are allowing them to dictate your narrative. And that is not journalism.

We have lost a lot of true legends in journalism lately. Have you paid attention to the many remembrances written and broadcast about them by fellow journalists? Do you ever imagine what will be said about you? Do you hope to have a phrase like "journalistic integrity" attributed to your work? As long as this shift of credible media coverage remains the norm, very few of todays journalists will be remembered for having been impartial and thoughtful.

Much more important than your legacy, however, is the legacy of America. You are recording her history every day. It looks pretty bleak, huh? What will future generations think when they research this era in history? You all have a hand in the place we find ourselves and how we will be remembered. Please start working as if that is important to you.




Monday, April 27, 2015

Not Even a Mule



My country. I always say that. I have no ownership and had no hand in its founding, but I feel bound to and responsible for it just the same.

My country is in shit shape. And it seems to be getting worse. Or better. I can't decide? Lately things have finally been coming to a head. I find it equally humbling and devastating. The Trayvon Martin murder seems to be the starting point, at least in my mind. More than just communities of color were offered pause. Every once in a while my country is given an opportunity to see what kinds of injustices communities of color have to endure. But it wasn't ever enough to make most people take a deep enough look at what was wrong. Injustice was a truth. Injustice was unfortunate. Injustice was forgotten.

But Trayvon Martin really started something different in American discourse. This was not just a child. This was a child who was doing absolutely nothing wrong. He was literally walking home from the store and a 'citizen' who was exercising his legal right to 'stand his ground' decided that this young black man was walking in a neighborhood where he had no business being and he murdered that child. And then America got to see the killer of this child go free. And then my country got pissed. Finally!

Killings of unarmed black men seemed to then happen frequently. And by law enforcement. It was as if out of nowhere police officers were acting out against the communities they were meant to be policing. That's pretty stupid, huh? It wasn't out of nowhere. It hadn't just started. My country just started finding out. Those in the communities who were being targeted, of course, have known all along. But no one was listening.

To write this blog I wanted to find the number of unarmed people of color murdered by police since the Trayvon Martin tragedy. I wanted to make sure I didn't forget any that I wanted to address. Apparently, even though I am very well informed about what is going on in my country and watch the news every night, I have been ill-informed about how large that number was. Trayvon Martin was killed on February 26, 2012. From that date, through Dec 2, 2014, 37 unarmed people of color have been murdered by police in America. And since then? It seems like we are hearing of a new one every week, doesn't it?

Since America's settlement, white men sailed to Africa to steal its citizens. They were enslaved. They were forced to build this country. They were raped. And beaten. And murdered. In my country, children are given that as a matter-of-fact in history class, tested on it, and moved to the next lesson. Yep. It happened. Betsy Ross made a flag, too.

In the 1860s the slaves were offered freedom and then an Amendment was added to the Constitution to define their rights to their own bodies. During Reconstruction, freed slaves were told they would get 40 acres and a god damned mule. They received neither. They were told they were free and offered no means to build on that freedom. Millions of people were given absolutely nothing and nowhere to live and no means to provide for their families. And that was defined as freedom. Many ended up remaining as slaves with no money or property or means of migration. Opportunities to build from that place were few. As was true then, it is still true today. America doesn't have enough bootstraps to go around. And people refuse to acknowledge that.

Communities of color have always been punching bags for white America. They have been offered as the excuse for all issues imaginable from war to poverty to taxation. White America created the problem and then demands that its victims fix it themselves. Until white Americans get the fuck over themselves and offer everyone the equality in law and in respect that all human beings deserve, how can anyone be expected to rise? The truth? The basest among us don't want them to rise. Those base level human beings like to have others to condemn. They like to have someone that they see as being lesser than they are. But do you know what base? By virtue of attributing someone's value beneath your own, you are the lesser person. Every time. Period.

When the information about Freddie Gray was released on the news, many of these base individuals had the same reaction on social media. "Great! You know they are going to riot now." Really? Do you think "they" are going to riot now? It is not common to see riots. And whenever these riots have happened it has not been out of nowhere. Riots have not been unprovoked. Riots have always happened when the injustices are so blatant and still unresolved that some people (not all as your pronoun 'they' would define) just lose their shit. I dare say if societal roles were reversed, this whole country would've gone up in flames a long time ago.

You want to talk shit about an entire community who every once in a while stands up in a violent manner when their frustrations reach a boiling point? Let me remind you of this, motherfucker ... You are forever demanding first and foremost that your country allows you a means of defending yourself and maintaining your right to bear arms. You are forever demanding that we remember your right to build a militia to raise up against your country if you ever feel your rights are not being adhered to. You are always itching to raise militias for assholes who want to burn children and families in a cult or who want to use protected American lands and not be penalized for it. Not only do you prove your profound ignorance by supporting only the craziest of people, you prove your desperation to rise up in rage to demand the legal outcome you think is fair. But you think the black community doesn't deserve to rise up when innocent men are killed by authority. Your militias wanted to rise up against the entire Federal Government for Waco. And Ruby Ridge. And Cliven Bundy. And NAFTA. Really?

I saw on the news this morning that the Bloods and the Crips were going to join together in Baltimore and not against one another. The story said that the same thing happened in Ferguson. There's nothing lovely about gang violence, but unity is beautiful. Especially because these kids who are so angry and have been pointing it back at themselves for so long finally feel strong enough to unite and point their anger where it belongs. I am certainly not saying that police and businesses are the enemy. But society, as a whole, is.

Society, in 2015, which accepts murders of unarmed black men deserves to have its ass kicked. Society, in 2015, which anticipates a calming down after each of these men are murdered and people move on, deserves to get its ass kicked. Society, in 2015, which does not hold its media accountable for neglecting to report on the many more murders of unarmed people of color by police officers, deserves to get its ass kicked. Society, in 2015, which embraces any police force with repeated violations against its citizenry, deserves to get its ass kicked.

Maybe this will be the last time. Maybe this time enough people will ask themselves the right questions and not point their outrage to the television screen at angry strangers whose needs have been ignored for centuries. Maybe this time Americans will ask themselves why this continues to happen and acknowledge the truth behind the question and their own complicity in its endurance.




Friday, March 27, 2015

Not for Today

I had a sincerely beautiful idea to reflect on the Afghan Proverbs every day this month to work on my own progress with self-reflection. I failed myself, which I can accept. Sometimes our own progress can be hindered by our own neglect. It doesn't mean we stop working toward our goals, but it does require a pause to reassess. The part that upsets me most is that I wanted to honor the inspirational book that I reviewed in February, Mataluna: 151 Afghan Pashto Proverbs (see blog here). The aspect of the book which I found most beautiful was its seamless capacity to unite communities and their ideals. Instead of looking at the universal truths and applying them to my own understandings and search for personal growth, I ended up pointing my reflections outward on others, in a negative and disrespectful manner. It was in complete contrast to, not only my own mission, but, more importantly, the message of the book itself.

I have lost track of my purpose and decided to revisit this personal challenge in the future once I have found more personal growth. I think I might need to work more on the contours of my own world before I can sincerely delve into its depths and build from inside.


Sunday, March 22, 2015

Give Me Liberty. Thanks.


It is so refreshing to see that todays young women are having an awakening and finding their own voices and still demanding equality. This generation was said to be growing up to be selfish and narrow minded. As a middle aged woman who is aware of the struggles of the suffrage movement and knows of the fights still needing to go on, I am elated to see that the torch is still being carried. As a mother of a young woman of this blossoming generation, I kind of feel a maternal pride for the young women who were going to the conference this weekend and I was looking forward to hearing about it. So, without thinking, I went to see if any of them had posted about their experiences when I saw it was a trending topic on Twitter. Yeah...

I have little patience for people who are small minded and nasty. I think I have made that abundantly clear by now. I have always been curious about the people who look around this whole wide world, see the things that are wrong with it, can find nothing that is really appalling enough to fight for and then find a cause that speaks to them, which happens to be a non-cause. They make things up to be upset about because something offends them at such a personal level that they, pretty much, lose their shit. I ran into some of them immediately in the trending feed and they challenged me, men and women, to give them just one right that women don't have. I'll do you one better. How about I give you just one right that women DO have?

I will only give a brief synopsis here, though, because those looking to believe feminism is a joke will not be swayed. They are too desperate to hold on to their belief in their own superiority.

The ERA (Equal Rights Amendment) passed to be a Constitutional Amendment back in the 20s and it said that no laws could be denied to anyone because of their gender. It was never ratified by enough states. For decades women tried to get it passed but were never able to get the necessary number of states to ratify it. So, now, in 2015, we still do not have an Equal Rights Amendment. And the only right that is guaranteed to women under the Constitution is the right to vote.

But, whatever ...

As it turns out, there is a gentleman who is having quite a fit about feminism on Twitter. His user name is (get ready for it) MensHumanRights. Yeah. He thinks it is wrong for women to be fighting for equality. He wants me to tell him about which rights women lack. I don't know. If I take the time to do it will you send me a meme and call me an ugly name (like "twat," which he has already used today)? He is, of course, a moron. But he chooses to be. Its hardly my problem. He is intimidated by women. I don't know what awful childhood he endured at the hands of women or if his father sincerely hated women and just passed it on to him. But what I do know is we live in 2015. And there are a myriad of issues on the agenda this weekend for these amazing young ladies that he would know nothing about because he is small minded and still gets a hard on whenever he hears the term #FemiNazi.

What is worse than the men who condemn women for demanding equality? The women who proudly scream "Im not a feminist! Feminism is stupid. Men and women need to all be equal." Right, because the feminist movement is about finding superiority over men. They might just as well be screaming, "Look at me! I need attention! See? I'm cool! I think feminism is stupid, too."

So what is this movement and why are little men so afraid of it? And why are women who are insecure and begging for attention so desperate to run from it? It is a movement that seeks to create an equal, safer world for women. This movement is passionate about women having the same Constitutional rights as men. Pretty rough shit, huh? Whiners. Shut up and be happy we let you vote.

But do you know what the worst part of the movement is for these insecure men?  Its about choice. They are so pissed off at the idea that a woman should be allowed to have an abortion that they absolutely lose their minds. My personal theory is that there is something inherently offensive to the alpha-male about the fact that not only do women give life, but they have the chance to take it, as well. "That is a power only God should have. No woman should have it. We men are supposed to be superior to women and that is in complete contradiction to my theory."  To fight a woman's right to choose they define themselves as "pro-life." (I will go on and on and on next month about how obviously most who claim they are pro-life are not. But when I deviate, I often don't make my way back). Of course, choice is not about life. Choice is just about that. Choice. And men with small minds (and, I assume, other small parts) cannot allow a woman to have that power. That power should only be in the hands of God.

I expect some men to get upset about feminism. There will always be a handful of immature men who have not evolved who are completely intimidated by the movement and sit around fearing that whites will eventually be a minority and immigrants are stealing their jobs and gays getting married are ruining their marriages and women want to have equal rights. They like to have things to complain about and people to blame their lot in life on. That's fine. But the women? That is truly a shame. What is running through their minds? "I'm so proud to say I'm not a feminist. I don't want equality. I have my right to vote, what else do I need? And you know what? If those women in the middle east don't want to get their heads cut off for an accusation of adultery, then they shouldn't cheat. And the countries in the world where girls don't get an education? Too bad. Their parents should've moved somewhere else. What do I care? I can really only be bothered to think about a handful of things at a time and, presently, Kim Kardashian is posting pictures of her new hair cut and Kendrick Lamar has a new download. So I'm not a feminist and any one who says they are a feminist is stupid."

Yep. That was shitty of me. But that is how I see you. How dare you allow people to dismiss a movement that is so obviously trying to guarantee your rights and those of American women and women all around the world? You don't have to go to the rallies and sign the petitions, but to talk shit about the people who do? Honestly, you really should check yourself.

But let's be honest, the young women of today who aren't paying attention really have no idea what suffrage is and what opportunities it affords them. They take a lot for granted. You have to wonder what these young women would think if they needed an abortion in one of the states where they no longer can. Or what if they got raped in one of the many states who haven't run the rape kits yet and their rapist gets away? What happens when they enter the workforce and get started on a career only to find that the young man who started the same day with the same credentials makes 25% more than they do?

The feminist movement is about a lot of things that are still unequal in society. Not only are they still fighting for abortions, to be allowed to have a medical procedure on their bodies (In America. In 2015), but the feminist movement is also concerned about the human trafficking epidemic in America that seems to be tolerated by so many. The movement is trying desperately to find resolution to the profound backlog of rape kits across America. The funding for this has been made available (and many states have misappropriated) ever since a national database was available to track DNA. Most states have a 7 year statue of limitations on prosecution for rape. Every year that passes with nothing being done, more rapists go free and more women live in fear for their rapists having never been convicted. The movement is concerned about violence against women and of violence against women on college campuses. And the movement is out fighting for LGBT rights, too (yep, fighting for equality for men!).

Thankfully, as the feminist movement is moving forward and the younger generation is coming to understand its importance, so are the men. I remember when I was a young mother and I went to my first NOW convention. I saw a feminist quote from Alan Alda. I thought that was about the coolest thing ever. It was a while before I found out that feminist men were really a thing. Now, even if most men don't identify as a feminist, the majority would think someone who belittled a woman for being one would be an asshole. So, I think we're getting there.

UPDATE: of all of the pieces I've written in attempts to really make people think, this has created the most controversy by both men and women who insisted what I said about women's Constitutional rights was a lie. Yes, it is funny that many people will drop an easy three letter word instead of research something, but willful ignorance does require both a lack of curiosity and resourcefulness.

Having said that, please follow:
http://www.slate.com/blogs/outward/2015/04/09/south_carolina_we_can_discriminate_against_women_so_why_not_gays.html