Recently, Time Magazine infamously proposed that the feminism be its banned word for 2014. Clearly, there’s been some miscommunication about what the word feminism actually means.
Let’s talk about it. “I’m for equality, not feminism.” A lot of people seem to take offense to the fact that feminism is called feminism: I cannot recite to you the number of times people have said this to me, as if these two causes cannot co-exist. Think about the phrasing of this argument: by saying that, you just removed the gender-issues from the problem; you just ignored the fact that women are discriminated against for their gender because hey, it didn’t explicitly include men as oppressed individuals. As it turns out, sexism tends to harm women more than men, and some issues are inherently problems for women. How many guys reading this have ever been catcalled while walking home from school? Probably few, if any. However, the fact that these justifications are even demanded raises another issue: do you only care about stopping oppression if you’re the most impacted victim? “Feminism perpetuates misandry.” Contrary to popular opinion, misandry (discrimination against men) and feminism don’t go hand in hand. Sexist stereotypes impact everyone, male or female, and a major part of feminism is fighting these preconceived notions of what each gender can and cannot do. For instance, it’s not fair a woman should get custody of a child simply because she’s assumed to be more attentive parent or that men are expected to remain unemotional and inexpressive. Some facets of feminism do focus specifically on helping men: for instance, the Rape is Rape campaign, created by the Feminist Majority Foundation, pressured the FBI into changing their definition of rape into one that could include male victims as well. Feminism is about equality, not preferential treatment based on gender, but this seems to be often misconstrued. Try focusing on the message instead of the label; just because you disagree with one misinterpreted strain of feminism doesn't mean you should dismiss the whole movement. “I don’t need feminism in my life.” Great, I’m glad you don’t think you’ve ever been impacted by sexist practices. Personally, I disagree that these types of things don’t affect you, but even if you don’t recognize it, consider the 21+ million women who undergo unsafe abortions every year because they don’t have access to better medical conditions. Think of the 14.2 million girls married before they’re 18 years old. Recall that only about 3% of rapists will ever serve a day in prison. These problems may not affect you in a day-to-day way, but that doesn't mean they don’t affect billions of others. The ability to ignore these issues is a privilege, and to ignore the many people who do suffer thanks to sexism is a gross neglect. “We've already achieved equality.” A 2008 study by professors at the University of California and the University of Kentucky found that 90% of teen girls had experienced sexist remarks. That’s not okay. Claiming sexism is thing of the past is like saying racism is over because the Civil Rights Movement is done. “The percentage of women holding statewide and state legislative offices is less than 25 percent,” reported The Nation, even after our most recent midterm elections. Ironically, a lot of the countries that we often consider to be developing have had women in head of state positions: India, Brazil, and Pakistan just to name a few. It’s time for the US to catch up. This lack of representation makes a difference: should women not have a say in their own reproductive health? Not have a say in policies that will affect them directly? As a society, we’ve come a huge way in removing overt sexism from our culture, but that doesn’t mean the work is done yet. “Whether we like it or not, biological differences can prevent true equality.” Yes, there are evolutionary differences between men and women. Good job figuring that one out. However, suggesting that women are biologically predisposed to be poor leaders is ridiculous, and I’m sure Angela Merkel would agree. If this convoluted logic is actually foolproof, men shouldn’t lead either: aren't they meant to be more aggressive? Not as invested in children? Too competitive? And hey, wasn't World War 2 started by men? Obviously, this thinking is illogical: gender does not determine one’s morality, one’s priorities, or one’s abilities. Women haven’t even had the right to vote for 100 years: it’s too soon to blame their absence in business and politics on genes rather than sexist tendencies. Besides, in other countries, women are far more represented in politics. Take Rwanda, where 57.7% of their legislative branches is female. Men can be great leaders. Women can be great leaders. And they should both be given a chance. “Feminists have to behave in a certain way.” This is actually a side I’ve seen often supported by people who call themselves feminists, and it makes me want to scream. I like dresses. That doesn’t mean I’m not a feminist because I indulge in typical femininity. My twin sister detests dresses. That doesn’t mean she’s not a feminist because she doesn't find joy in typical femininity. There is no mold one must fill; he/she must just believe in equal rights. Similarly, being a feminist means withholding judgements based on gender-stereotypes; one should embrace a woman with revealing clothes and a sexual history just the same as one would embrace one who remains abstinent and dresses modestly: both are just living their lives in a way that makes them happy, without harming anyone around them. Being a stay-at-home parent or being a CEO doesn’t determine one’s value as a person. Judging someone for his/her lifestyle does. Let’s go over the checklist.
If you said no, then the diagnosis is official. Your viewpoints are those of a feminist.
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the little bird:
an amateur runaway, leaving the first step, the first breath, the first reason why, they’re the most grueling. the little bird: as helpless and pure as snow, mortified the first night, the first hunger, the first monster, they’re the most horrendous. the little bird: scared and regretful, returning the first knock, the first apology, the first embrace, they’re the most gratifying. the little bird: a saint of knowledge, moving to his church the first lesson, the first friend, the first drink, they’re the most exhilarating. the little bird: a citizen of the sky, no longer little the first house, the first partner, the first child, they’re the most significant. old:
with leather and dust stacked upon one another the smell of abandonment, suffocating. its fall exploding with leaves of once was color winds of fear, glory, science, classics, life toppling and twisting the sky a vacant memory, looked upon with curiosity. new: with glistening words and smooth pages slipping in side by side the swords slash unnoticed on fingertips, the nerves forget damage the eyes continue their digilant dance. its spring blossoms of tulips coated with the child’s glee the rays of sun shining to blistered wonder legend and myth forced into a 2 dimensional world strangers become a human’s family. I’m sitting on a chair, near the table.
I’m in my room thinking hard. Remembering the first day at JES. It’s raining outside, it’s cold outside. I’m sharing my thoughts with the birds that fly. I’m recalling the days of sixth grade. The friends who were so kind. Teachers who gave me hope. Music that echoes in my mind. The days of happiness. The days of sadness. I’m sitting in my room, It’s cold outside. I’m thinking of future, That will meet me in a while. When I go to bed, I ask myself ...... "Who Am I?"
It is then I know that I'm more than what I think. I'm a peace lover, helpful, blessed, and delicate as a chewing gum. And there is so much more inside of me! I have memories of childhood inside of me! The beach and the smell of sand and salty water. Travels of trains, cars, and airplanes and seeing the blue between the clouds. And there is so much more inside of me! I have talents and ambitions inside of me! A good artist and a good singer. Want to be a poet, artist and a professor in English. And there is so much more inside of me! I have cultural traditions inside of me! Tradition of eating with right hand. A festival Eid, on which we eat sweet dishes and get together. And there is so much more inside of me! I have victories and defeats inside of me! Winning from my friends in class. Challenged from my brothers in many things but sometimes couldn't win. And there is so much more inside of me! I have vacations and distant inside of me! Visiting beaches with relatives and family. Going to New York to my uncle's house for days. And there is so much more inside of me. I have my own styles and opinions inside of me! My style is to have discipline and peace sometimes. Having close friends, parties and playing games. And there is so much more inside of me! So Who Am I? I'm more than what I look like. I'm more than my thoughts can fly. For there is so much inside of me, I am Yusra Ali. There once was a story about a girl who walked on they sky because it had been plastered on her bedroom floor
She always fell upwards and saw everything upside down so when everybody frowned it always looked like smiles And when everybody smiled it always looked like frowns Here when the city lights shined they looked like stars, fireworks even breaking the night with their glow No one cared about light pollution because who needed to see the stars when they had already brought them down to earth And the girls swore she could see God’s eyes in each flickering street lamp and light bulb There once was a story about a girl who heard everything backwards so she thought everybody was speaking in tongues only the devil could provide So she killed each and every one of them because their mouths were unholy She couldn’t help going a tiny, little bit mad When the man on the news captured girls off the street and packed them away in his basement because he never knew of love, only jealousy Jealousy of all the affection they obtained She, she couldn’t help but get a little unhinged With a twitch in one eye that caused her to see all the colors of insanity for it had been blinded by reality When the sweet, old lady down the street killed her dog and spray painted fag on the side of her house Well c’mon now, she couldn’t help but go a little bit LOONY She could barely scrub those words off her heart, how could she scrub it off a brick wall Her dog was her only friend When a war broke out and the streets were dyed red and baby heads littered the streets When guns were given out as Christmas presents and nobody understood what kindness was besides a weakness She couldn’t help but become a bit, just a wee bit DERANGED And when her FAMILY were the people on the new gutted clean, every piece of their flesh carved out X’s painted across their eyes in the very blood that kept them alive When they simply became lifeless puppets held up by strings of barbed wire well, She couldn’t help but go COMPLETELY CRAZY Pain is in remembering, remembering is pain Black out They tried to save her Schizophrenia, A.D.D, ADHD, Bipolar, depression, chronic anxiety They branded her with labels and filled her up with pills until she couldn’t tell the difference between the heavens and the ground Medication was the only rainbow she’d be seeing in a long time In a padded bedroom floor she walked on the sky “Look ma, I can touch the clouds!” |