March 8. It is officially International Women’s Day. I don’t know about you, but I always enjoy all the special treatment I get for Women’s Day. Of course, I’m just kidding. But it’s nice someone thought about us.
Read More“Well-behaved women seldom make history.”
I am power.
I speak to you,
And you listen.
I call for you,
And you come.
I want my lunch,
You bring it.
I want a song,
You sing it.
Music is supposed to soothe the savage beast, or so I have been told. Why is it, then, there is so much music that threatens women? I have a very good vocabulary, and nowhere in my thesaurus is threat listed as a synonym for soothe. So which is it? Soothe the savage beast? William Congreve would have it so. Perhaps because he never heard modern music? Or maybe just because he was not a woman.
Read MoreWomen suffer much
Read MoreWe all saw it…the wave that grew and grew until it became a tsunami. Women for the first time speaking up about harassment, sexual assault, and rape. Women reporting the men who abused them…and doing it publicly. The house of cards was about to tumble and we all got to watch, even those of us who don’t do Twitter. We might not report our own assaults, but we watched it go mainstream. It was on all lips, on every news outlet…#MeToo.
Read MoreMy mother told me every story begins with a single word. “What’s the word that starts my story?” I was only six; could I understand? She didn’t answer. She couldn’t look at me. “Mama! What word starts my story?” I stomped my foot. It might be temper tantrum time.
“You…you’re too young to know.”
“You always tell me something, then say I’m too young.” I put the pout in my voice; temper tantrum would be the next step.
Read MoreDon’t get huffy.
I was just asking.
Nothing harmed.
AMANDA: We can see that…everyone can see that…Mother, are you all right? Do you feel…sick? Dizzy?
SAMANTHA: I feel fine…quit fussing over me. I am invisible, but other than that, there’s nothing wrong with me.
AMANDA: Colin, call the ambulance. We need to take her…
SAMANTHA: You are not taking me anywhere. Put down that phone…put it down…that’s it, just lay it on the table…good. Now you two sit and do your puzzle, I’m going shopping.
AMANDA: Okay, Mother, what’s going on? What’s up now?
“You have no rights. You gave up all your rights when you became pregnant.” He slammed the door and slid into the front seat. He hit the lights and siren even though they were on a country road with no cars in sight.
Read More“Pinkie war? Just like a woman.” Norman sneered. “I think…wrestling. Baby, you made the biggest mistake of your life. I’m gonna pin you, and then I’m gonna show you the science. Men are simply bigger, smarter, and stronger than women.”
Read MoreI reject.
I challenge.
I ignore.
I dissent.
When I was a teenager, I somehow imagined by now the default would be women and men finding an equality, and men possessing their wives would be an outlier. I assumed we would not have to hold our breaths as the Supreme Court decided our reproductive future for us. I assumed we would not worry about the changing of Congress every two years because someone was up for election that had a desire to shove women back into the kitchen. Well, we all know what they say about assuming.
Read MoreI’ve often wondered why so many women like the movie Grease so well. I know women who are almost obsessed with it, refusing to miss it the 107th time on television. They know all the words to every song, and can emote along with the characters because every word is burned into their memory. I thought at first it might be John Travolta, but I don’t see an equal obsession with other Travolta films, so it must be something else.
Read MoreThey found her diary under her bed. Maybe it held some clue. Every day, every entry, was the same, the description of an ordinary life, what sounded to most of the cops like a peaceful life. A housewife’s life. On one page, she drew a copy of her college degree. She had a doctorate in chemistry, but according to the entry for that day, she used it only for not accidentally mixing acids and bases while cleaning. Another page contained a drawing of a drowning woman, but a complete search of her history showed a lack of tragedy. “An ordinary life”, they all agreed.
Read MoreWhy is the woman tired?
What do women do all day?
I imagine the TV was on,
Her feet were up,
And she sipped hot tea.
Why should a woman be tired?
As I am writing this, I am reminded of that scene from the movie Carrie, where she is frightened because she just started her period and doesn’t know what’s happening. Instead of sympathy and help, she gets mockery, as the girls crowd her in the shower, throwing tampons and pads at her, shouting “plug it up”. She cowers in the corner. Her mother, when she hears, screams invectives about her being a bad girl. No one is willing to help her understand what is happening. Of course, the most famous scene follows…she is at the prom, elected prom queen through the scheming of her classmates, and while she stands there, flowers in her arms, tiara on her head, smiling perhaps for the first time in the movie, someone dumps a bucket of pig blood on her. We all know what happens next. No one lives through the movie except one girl…and it wasn’t Carrie.
Read MoreLike a waterfall
A woman’s tears,
Her grief transparent,
Her loss extreme.
You probably heard all your life…sticks and stones, and all that nonsense. Don’t believe it. Words hurt. Pain hurts. Words designed to elicit pain are going to hurt, and it isn’t weakness, it isn’t letting them hurt you. That is an excuse designed to put the onus for your pain back on you. I didn’t let them hurt me; I had little choice. Could I have been tougher? Could I have let it flow off my back? No, I don’t think I could. I didn’t have the strength of knowing I was loved, knowing I was valued, knowing I had a support system. Some women have that, and are able to do it. They shouldn’t have to.
Read MoreTonight’s poem comes from a Mondegreen. If you don’t know what a Mondegreen is, it refers to the misheard lyrics of a song, you know, like Round John Virgin. I don’t remember what the song was, or who the singer, or even what the real line was. Whatever it was, I misheard it as “Misogyny paved the way”. So tonight, a poem based on a line I didn’t hear right.
Read MoreThe truck smelled like cattle. Alicia recognized it; they had stolen…commandeered, she supposed they would say…Ben’s truck. Her husband was in the barn when the first bomb dropped. He yelled for her to take the women to safety. She hadn’t heard from him since. She gathered the women around her, which wasn’t difficult with them tied together. She spoke quietly, trying to calm them. It was difficult when she wasn’t calm herself. She reminded them of the heritage of bravery they got from their mothers and grandmothers, women who never let the men see them cry. They lived through many wars; the small country had been invaded from all sides. Two neighboring countries were fighting over control; the citizens who lived there had no say. It would be decided by who had the biggest guns, the most bombs.
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