True Feminism

I've been mulling over this idea for more than a year.  I've wanted to write about it for almost that long but I haven't been able to find the words.  A cousin posted something related to this on Facebook recently so I've been thinking about it more.  I'm still not sure I have the words but  I've decided just to take the plunge any way.

Feminism as a word has become distorted.  People misuse it and misrepresent it.  They use it as an insult or they're insulted by it.

Feminism as a movement was necessary and wonderful.  It was the civil rights movement for women.  It was a time when women decided they weren't going to be told what to do by men or by society just because they were women.  It was a time when women said that it doesn't matter if your chromosomes are XY or XX, you should have choices and you should have a voice.

Feminism today has morphed into this ugly, distorted idea that women are better than men.  I don't think that's what any Suffragists meant when they marched for their rights.  I think they wanted true equality.  I think they'd be horrified at the man-bashing that happens in so much of society now.

I see women today give their husbands and partners nasty looks that they'd never tolerate themselves.  I hear them say things about their men and to their men that are truly horrifying.  I hear condescension and patronization and disgust in their voices.  It's every where -- on television, in music, in daily conversation, in sweeping generalizations.

I know that not all women enjoy all the benefits that men do.  I know that in other parts of the world, the plight of women is as horrible as it's always been.  I know that even in the United States not all women make what their male counterparts make in the same careers.  I know that. For most of us, however, life is good and getting better.  And it certainly does not justify the anger that some women harbor toward men at just being a woman.

The pendulum has swung too far in the other direction in a lot of respects.  It's not right.

The flip side of this are the women who say with horror, "Oh, I'm not a feminist!" as if it were some horrible condition requiring an exorcism.  And to that I say, what's so wrong with being a feminist?  What's wrong with being on equal footing with men?  What's wrong with embracing all the choices you have and picking something you love because you love it, not because you're supposed to?  What's wrong with not depending on a man to provide and lead and make decisions?

Being a feminist does not mean giving up on marrying, having children, making a home, even staying at home to raise children while foregoing a career outside the home.  Being a feminist does not mean you're automatically a power-mongering, money-grabbing bitch.  Being a feminist means that you support your rights and the rights of other women to choose what to do with life.  It means that you have freedom.  It is not a bad thing.

Day 15, A Song that Describes Me

Keep drinkin' coffee
Stare me down across the table
While I look outside

So many things I'd say if only I were able
But I just keep quiet
And count the cars that pass by

You've got opinions, man
We're all entitled to 'em
But I never asked

So let me thank you for time
And try to not waste any more of mine
Get out of here fast

I hate to break it to you babe
But I'm not drowning
There's no one here to save

Who cares if you disagree
You are not me
Who made you king of anything
So you dare tell me who to be
Who died
And made you king of anything

You sound so innocent
All full of good intent
You swear you know best

But you expect me to
Jump up on board with you
Ride off into your delusional sunset

I'm not the one who's lost
With no direction oh
But you won't ever see

You're so busy makin' maps
With my name on them in all caps
You got the talkin' down just not the listening

And who cares if you disagree
You are not me
Who made you king of anything
So you dare tell me who to be
Who died
And made you king of anything

All my life
I've tried
To make everybody happy while I
Just hurt
And hide
Waitin' for someone to tell me it's my turn
To decide

Who cares if you disagree
You are not me
Who made you king of anything
So you dare tell me who to be
Who died
And made you king of anything

Who cares if you disagree
You are not me
Who made you king of anything
So you dare tell me who to be
Who died
And made you king of anything

Let me hold your crown, babe
 

I'm posting the lyrics to this song because they're so powerful.  This song compares and contrasts the old me with the new me.  It's my personal anthem.  Every time I hear it, it's a reminder never to take my own independence for granted.  I've got smarts and I'm not afraid to use them.  I don't deserve someone else's maps, someone's delusional sunset.  I deserve to go where I want to go because I want to go there.  And I will go there, dammit.

Day 13, A Guilty Pleasure Song

I think guilty pleasure means that in some part of yourself you think it's not okay to like something but you do anyway, consequences be damned.  So this song is only categorized as a guilty pleasure song if there is some reason I should not like it or some reason I should not like Christina Aguilera.

If I were a lesser person I might say that Christina Aguilera's music is a little *ahem* bubble gum-my.  Or I might say that her "Dirty" phase was a touch crass.  Or I might say that the tendency to call her Xtina bugs me because of the whole Xmas and Xtian thing.  But I try not to be a lesser person so I'm not saying those things.

What I am saying is that I love this song because it makes me feel very RAWR on days when I don't even feel very  meow.  I like that the song is full of contrasting imagery because I very often feel that way myself.  I can be up, I can be down, I can be weak or strong, happy or sad.

New Me vs. Old Me

I was Old Me 5 years ago. Old Me was weak and powerless and pitiful and sad and humiliated. Old Me let other people call all the shots, from the little things to the big things. Old Me rarely had opinions and if she did she never, ever spoke them. Old Me lived to make other people happy, even at her own expense. Old Me would have raised children just like herself. And she didn't have the energy to care. Old Me died when I filed for divorce and I have danced on her grave many times since then.

In her place is New Me. New Me says what she thinks even if it makes her want to puke on the spot. (And it often does.) New Me does things like shave off all her hair and grin at the world afterward. New Me rides on the back of a motorcycle (and wants to get one for herself) and drinks wine until she's dizzy. New Me cooks Indian food and eats sushi. New Me loves music from Johnny Cash to Amos Lee to Steely Dan to Depeche Mode to Muse to Maná and back again. New Me isn't afraid to talk to her children about why she divorced their dad, about sex, about the good and the bad things in the world, about standing up for themselves, about telling the truth and about what's right and wrong. New Me goes back to school (for the third time) and has dreams of becoming a lactation consultant or a nurse practitioner or a coroner or a nursing clinical instructor.

I'm embarrassed by Old Me. I don't like to think about her. But New Me wouldn't be here and wouldn't appreciate life as much without having been Old Me to begin with. In that regard, I'm appreciative.

In one significant way I've remained Old Me for the last 5 years. That's when I have to deal with the ex-husband. Every once in a while something comes up and I revert to the old habits -- being overly meek and not being listened to. Every time that happens I get angry with myself for letting it happen. Letting things happen is passive and powerless and it means that I'm not making things happen. It's a weak, pathetic attitude and I hate it.  There have been times when I've put the kids at risk by letting things happen.  Shame on me.

No More.  This week I learned that the ex-husband crammed all 5 of his children into the backseat of a tiny car last weekend because the bigger car with appropriate seating wasn't working.  He and I have had this argument for the better part of 10 years.  He thinks it's okay to occasionally drive around with improperly restrained children if "It's only around the block," or "It's too much trouble to put in a car seat," or "We're going to be late for church if we make two trips."  This week I decided that I have had enough.  When I found this out I told him that if he does not have appropriately safe transportation for these children they will not see him for spring break in two weeks.  He made excuses.  He played the poor-me-you-think-I'm-a-bad-person card.  He tried to make me feel bad.  But I refuse to take the bait.  That's what not letting means.  It means I keep control of myself and my emotions and I stand my ground.  It means that I have power.  And it's part of New Me.

Confusing a Girl

Miriam, telling me a joke: I know how to confuse a girl.
Me: Huh?
Miriam: Purple.
Me: Huh?
Miriam: See, you're confused!
Me: Why did you say, "girl"?
Miriam: Because that's the way I heard it.
Me: But it doesn't matter.  If you said that to a boy, he'd be confused, too.  If you specify that it's a girl when being a girl doesn't really matter, you're saying that girls are not as smart as boys.
Miriam, indignant:  That is NOT true! I'm never telling that joke again!!
Me, to myself: Thaaaaaat's right.

Pandering to the Lowest Common Denominator

I need to preface this with a disclaimer. I love to read and I wish everyone loved to read.  I know that not all people do, for a lot of reasons.  That's okay.  I believe that if a particular series of books can get someone who doesn't usually like to read to enjoy reading, I'm all for it.  A lot of these kinds of books cannot be called fine literature and that's okay.  In an ideal world, we'd all love writers like Dickens and Steinbeck.  We do not live in an ideal world and that's okay, too.  However, there are simply books that are not, nor never will be, fine literature. Twilight is one of those.  Yup, I said it.

I also need to say that I have not read Twilight (or any of the following books) and now I never will.  I used to want to read them because everyone raved about them.  Several people admitted that the writing is not good but that the story is good and it's entertaining.  So I figured I'd get around to reading them at some point when I needed a break from something like A Brave New World or The End of Faith.

Then I saw Twilight and New Moon. I will admit that a huge part of my turn-off after watching these movies was the acting. The acting was painful, reallyreallyreally painful.  However, an even bigger part of my turn-off is the idea that Bella cannot live without Edward.  Her obsession with him is unhealthy, not to mention dangerous. When Edward went away and Bella's whole being shriveled up into nothingness I was horrified.  No one should be that wrapped up in another person after just a few months of a relationship, especially at that age.  It sets up a horrible example for teenagers to emulate.  Even worse is Bella's preoccupation with putting herself in danger just so she can 'feel' Edward around her.  I don't know any respectable parent who would be okay with their daughter behaving this way, no matter how much she likes a boy.

It kills me that an entire generation of kids is growing up with Bella and Edward as their heroes, their example of what is good and honorable and part of a healthy, loving relationship.  It makes me want to puke. All the progress that's been made in the last few generations could be undone here.  Women can't be equal to men when they start life as girls who want to be like Bella.  I'll be damned if my daughter turns out this way.

I have become especially sensitive to these themes in the last few years after realizing how much of my own life has been wrapped up in unhealthy relationships.  I admit that I am probably more observant of the problems in Twilight because of this but that doesn't mean that I am hypersensitive or that I am wrong; it just means that others don't notice as much as I do.  It's still unhealthy and not something I'll ever teach my children is acceptable.

Take into consideration all that I just said and you'll understand my shock at seeing this while doing back-to-school shopping.

Are you kidding me?  Sucking kids in by modeling major study guides after the biggest teen obsession this decade?  I know you've got to appeal to kids somehow, but this?  This is low. This is lower than low.

Ominous blood?  Give me a break.








And, of course, the disclaimer for the book.  Never mind their intent; the lawyers make them put this there so no one gets sued.

Stephanie Meyer and Brian Leaf and their ilk are on My List.