Every time I try and write, I become frozen. Why? There are SO many feelings, emotions, and issues I need to process, all the while, my brain is compelling me to write. Alright brain. Here we go...
RAPE.
I am compelled to write about this, not only because of my own history involving this, but because I came across an article discussing how a rape victim might possibly be expelled, or be given some sort of disciplinary action for 'intimidating their offender.' Immediately, I didn't think this was real, then I remembered the society I am a part of. I was JUST talking about the rhetoric of rape, and the consequences of this on the victims and the agressors. Every time I try to write about rape, sexual abuse, and molestation, I digress rather quickly, since I am so emotionally connected to it. But it is completely asinine that this victim is being PROSECUTED. They were in a sexually abusive relationship (which is being used against her), was depressed, and attempted suicide (which is being used against her). Wait, did they not note that SHE WAS RAPED? REPEATEDLY? Also VERBALLY ABUSED? She didn't even out her abuser. Yet, she is being investigated for potential charges?! I still need to think on these things and develop a more cogent perspective on this thing. In general. Here is the article. Here's the petition.
RACISM.
"Why hire a black model when you can just paint a white one?" This doesn't make sense. Seriously? This happens and will continue to happen unless more people take a stand against this. White models being coated in bronzer and is shown as black. WTF. Wow. Why hire black anything for that matter? Why don't we just get rid of all postions for people of color, and paint white people, and put them into the roles of 'other'? It's not like there are no aspiring/working black/women of color models around to do a spread for a damn magazine entitled, "AFRICAN QUEEN". What the eff is Black history month anyway? People still aren't aware of pioneers who forged and fought against bigotry, hate, and inequality. Some don't even know MLK Jr./ Malcolm X/Angela Davis. So, how are we even going to START a conversation about past AND current progressions among the less 'visible' people of color? People have said, "What's the use of having black history month?" and that we should do away with it because it's not like we have a white history month. Yes, I understand this argument but NO. Just NO. We haven't gotten to a point where we can foreseeably integrate black history into all levels of our system of education and of our society. Although that is a wonderful ideal, it is simply that, an IDEAL. Black history month is something that used to be heavily celebrated and acknowledged, but, throughout the years, has become less and less important and visible. No, it's not because we have arrived to equality and social justice, it's because somehow the social/political/economical 'concessions' we have taken, has begun to render us complacent. This complacency is beginning to perpetuate complicity to this flawed and divisive system. We still have stuff like this model bs happening, this is so disconcerting. I still need time to think and develop something more than rage on this topic, but here is the article.
ME.
I'm vexed by the society I call 'home'. I am scared for the future of my passion in philosophy and women's & gender studies. I am nervous about my health and well being. I am sad and confused about the state of affairs regarding my education and potential to progress beyond my MA. All the while, people are being raped, and deliberately discriminated against, and I am feeling completely low, and almost powerless as far as a progressive step. Well, at the very least I'll write. No one can take my words from me (yet). You never know though, at the rate our society is regressing, that might be up for claims soon enough.
FINALE.
Although it is tough for me to find any lyric or words that inspire, I found this:
"Wall, chilern,
whar dar is so much racket
dar must be somethin' out o' kilter.
I tink dat 'twixt de nigger of de Souf
and de womin at de Norf,
all talkin' 'bout rights,
de white men will be in a fix pretty soon.
But what's all dis here talkin' 'bout?
Dat man ober dar say
dat womin needs to be helped into carriages,
and lifted ober ditches,
and to hab de best place everywhar.
Nobody eber halps me into carriages,
or ober mudpuddles,
or gibs me any best place!
And ar'n't I a woman?
Look at me!
Look at my arm!
I have ploughed,
and planted,
and gathered into barns,
and no man could head me!
And ar'n't I a woman?
I could work as much
and eat as much as a man --
when I could get it --
and bear de lash as well!
And ar'n't' I a woman?
I have borne thirteen chilern,
and seen 'em mos' all sold off to slavery,
and when I cried out with my mother's grief,
none but Jesus heard me!
And ar'n't I a woman?
Den dey talks 'bout dis ting in de head;
what dis dey call it?
'Intellect,'
(whispered someone near).
Dat's it, honey.
What's dat got to do wid womin's rights
or nigger's rights?
If my cup won't hold but a pint,
and yourn holds a quart,
wouldn't ye be mean
not to let me have my little half-measure full?
Den dat little man in black dar,
he say women can't have as much rights as men,
'cause Christ wan't a woman!
Whar did your Christ come from?
Whar did your Christ come from?
From God and a woman!
Man had nothin' to do wid Him.
If de fust woman God ever made
was strong enough to turn de world upside down
all alone,
dese women togedder ought to be able to turn it back, and get it right side up again!
And now dey is asking to do it,
de men better let 'em.
Bleeged to ye for hearin' on me,
and now ole Sojourner
han't got nothin' more to say.'"
whar dar is so much racket
dar must be somethin' out o' kilter.
I tink dat 'twixt de nigger of de Souf
and de womin at de Norf,
all talkin' 'bout rights,
de white men will be in a fix pretty soon.
But what's all dis here talkin' 'bout?
Dat man ober dar say
dat womin needs to be helped into carriages,
and lifted ober ditches,
and to hab de best place everywhar.
Nobody eber halps me into carriages,
or ober mudpuddles,
or gibs me any best place!
And ar'n't I a woman?
Look at me!
Look at my arm!
I have ploughed,
and planted,
and gathered into barns,
and no man could head me!
And ar'n't I a woman?
I could work as much
and eat as much as a man --
when I could get it --
and bear de lash as well!
And ar'n't' I a woman?
I have borne thirteen chilern,
and seen 'em mos' all sold off to slavery,
and when I cried out with my mother's grief,
none but Jesus heard me!
And ar'n't I a woman?
Den dey talks 'bout dis ting in de head;
what dis dey call it?
'Intellect,'
(whispered someone near).
Dat's it, honey.
What's dat got to do wid womin's rights
or nigger's rights?
If my cup won't hold but a pint,
and yourn holds a quart,
wouldn't ye be mean
not to let me have my little half-measure full?
Den dat little man in black dar,
he say women can't have as much rights as men,
'cause Christ wan't a woman!
Whar did your Christ come from?
Whar did your Christ come from?
From God and a woman!
Man had nothin' to do wid Him.
If de fust woman God ever made
was strong enough to turn de world upside down
all alone,
dese women togedder ought to be able to turn it back, and get it right side up again!
And now dey is asking to do it,
de men better let 'em.
Bleeged to ye for hearin' on me,
and now ole Sojourner
han't got nothin' more to say.'"
Ain't I a Woman? By Sojourner Truth
I can almost hear her speaking. This at least encourages me to use my voice, to use my words in ways that make visible these injustices. I will attempt to come back to these thoughts once more, once I have given myself the time and space to think on these things. I thank you for reading this post of my initial responses to seriously ridiculous situations.
Ciao,
-M. Desicus
