I am really tired of seeing the blogs written by complacent women in their suburban homes, self-righteously shitting on the women who took to the streets for the march on Washington last week.
We can pussyfoot around the subject and take care with our words, because as women, we have been taught to be non-confrontational, to be demure. But I am taking back those silly notions and raising a big fat middle finger to the people who deride others for defending the very rights that have brought them to their complacency in their suburban homes.
If you chose not to march, that is absolutely your decision, and I will not criticize you for it, for we each have to be comfortable in the ways we raise our voices. But if you are a female who has ever voted, who has ever held a job in the workforce, who has ever used birth control, had an abortion, been assaulted, been harassed, bought a home, owned a credit card, or given birth, then for you to tell the women and men who marched on our behalf that you don't "believe" in them, is essentially saying you don't believe in the rights that you've been granted because of the women who marched before.
We can look at the enormity of the work the suffragettes did last century, the absolutely terrifying things they had to do and see in order to ensure their great great granddaughters (that would be you and me) could vote. We can look at the women in the 60s and 70s who took control of their sexuality and their bodies to fight for the rights to choose, and the rights to take back the night from attackers who were given minimal sentences for rape and sexual assault. We can look at how some silly laws against women still exist;
there is a town in Utah where it is still illegal for women to use profanity
in the state of Michigan, a woman needs permission from her husband to cut her hair
in Tucson, it is illegal for women to wear pants
there are still several states that have made it illegal to have sorority houses, because it only stands to reason that women live together only as sex workers
it is still legal in thirty states for a rapist to sue for custody if his rape caused pregnancy
in Cleveland, it is illegal to show the underside of the female breast
in four southern states, it is illegal for a woman to purchase a vibrator, but viagra is easily accessible
in North Carolina, a woman is not allowed to press charges for rape, if she at first was a willing participant and then changed her mind.
To all of us, these seem like crazy laws, like impossibilities in these times in which we live. But they are all real, and they are all terrifying, and they are all pretty inconsequential when compared to the laws imposed on women over the years.
This is a story I have not shared with many people. It was a story I did not know as a child, because the woman about which I am going to write was so loving, and kind that she would never haunt her grandchildren with such memories.
My grandmother was born in the 1930s to two alcoholic parents, two people who should not have had children, but they did. She had a twin. I haven't seen pictures of him, but I am sure he was a beautiful baby, with a ton of potential awaiting him. At the very least, he would have dozens of great-nieces and nephews in his future. But his parents were so drunk, and so negligent that he starved to death as a toddler. And my grandmother was brought to an orphanage. There was no Daddy Warbucks to rescue her. She was in and out of there until she was old enough to care for herself, and to become a mother to four of her own children, whom she loved as much as she possibly could until her death at age 59. I loved her fiercely, I still do, twenty three years after she left us, but I cannot help but think that no one deserves to live their childhood in such a world. We would consider her to be a success story. She died surrounded by love, and in a home she and her husband were able to buy, with enough money to eat well, and have special holiday celebrations, and her dream of owning an RV. But for every success story like hers, there are ten stories that would break your heart. Children living in orphanages across the world, growing up with attachment disorders because they are not held or cuddled ONCE in their first year of life. Children in foster care, being molested, beaten and ignored, because their parents were unfit. Babies tossed in dumpsters with their placentas still attached. Women, who know they are unfit, and being too scared of the above scenarios, attempting abortions on themselves with herbal remedies, coat hangers or suicide.
I have five children, that is no secret. I have had three miscarriages, which hurt my heart and always will. I have never had an abortion. I can't say I never would, because we never know what we are capable of until we are in that moment. If I knew my child would have a debilitating disorder and would live in agony for mere days or weeks, I may. If I knew carrying a pregnancy to term would kill me, and leave my children motherless, I may. If I were raped and left with my attacker's baby, I may. But I am also privileged, so my choices reflect my abilities and the support around me. I am pro-choice because I believe that so many women are not as privileged as I, and I am pro-choice because I do not believe it is my right, or the government (which is mainly run by males) have any right to force a decision on a woman who already has the world stacked against her, or by forcing a baby to be born into conditions that are unfit for human life. And I, for one, have no foster children or adopted children, so what right would I possibly have to tell a woman that those are her only viable options, if I am not willing to take on the responsibility of all of those abandoned children myself?
This is one reason why some women marched.
I also read a moving story from another woman, who is anti-choice, who marched because her daughter is a lesbian, and she was fighting to keep her daughter's rights to stay married to her wife.
Another story for a Muslim woman who has lived here her whole life, who marched because she is scared of the rhetoric about her religion. Another who marched because she lived in Flint, Michigan, and was terrified for the people of Standing Rock, whose water is about to become ruined by an unnecessary pipeline. And another woman who marched because her breast cancer was back, and as a pre-existing condition, she would be denied health care without AFA.
The march was not to bash men, as some blogs have stated. I am a feminist, and I love men. I love the way they smell, I love their strengths and most of their weaknesses. I love loving one, and I love being loved by one. I am raising a few. The march was not against men. In fact, many men marched alongside the women they adore. This march was FOR women. And if you are going to write a blog criticizing the women who simply want the world made better, for things to progress in the right direction, then aren't you, in essence, stating that you are not for women? That you do not believe in all of our ancestral females who fought for you to get here? To a place where you are ALLOWED to write public blogs? Even if you voted for the evil that is in office, had women not marched before you, you would not have been ALLOWED to vote for him. You would not have been ALLOWED to have your cushy suburban house in your name, because all you had would have belonged to your husband.
If you don't want to march, don't. Put your feet up and simply reap the rewards others have fought for you to have. If you want to march for something else you believe in, even if it isn't what I believe in- goddamn, girl, get out there and do it. But believe in SOMETHING. And check out the photographs of millions of people, loving on each other, and praising each other, and being non-violent fighters of progress, and try to feel the warmth of that beautiful fire on those rested feet of yours.
We can pussyfoot around the subject and take care with our words, because as women, we have been taught to be non-confrontational, to be demure. But I am taking back those silly notions and raising a big fat middle finger to the people who deride others for defending the very rights that have brought them to their complacency in their suburban homes.
If you chose not to march, that is absolutely your decision, and I will not criticize you for it, for we each have to be comfortable in the ways we raise our voices. But if you are a female who has ever voted, who has ever held a job in the workforce, who has ever used birth control, had an abortion, been assaulted, been harassed, bought a home, owned a credit card, or given birth, then for you to tell the women and men who marched on our behalf that you don't "believe" in them, is essentially saying you don't believe in the rights that you've been granted because of the women who marched before.
We can look at the enormity of the work the suffragettes did last century, the absolutely terrifying things they had to do and see in order to ensure their great great granddaughters (that would be you and me) could vote. We can look at the women in the 60s and 70s who took control of their sexuality and their bodies to fight for the rights to choose, and the rights to take back the night from attackers who were given minimal sentences for rape and sexual assault. We can look at how some silly laws against women still exist;
there is a town in Utah where it is still illegal for women to use profanity
in the state of Michigan, a woman needs permission from her husband to cut her hair
in Tucson, it is illegal for women to wear pants
there are still several states that have made it illegal to have sorority houses, because it only stands to reason that women live together only as sex workers
it is still legal in thirty states for a rapist to sue for custody if his rape caused pregnancy
in Cleveland, it is illegal to show the underside of the female breast
in four southern states, it is illegal for a woman to purchase a vibrator, but viagra is easily accessible
in North Carolina, a woman is not allowed to press charges for rape, if she at first was a willing participant and then changed her mind.
To all of us, these seem like crazy laws, like impossibilities in these times in which we live. But they are all real, and they are all terrifying, and they are all pretty inconsequential when compared to the laws imposed on women over the years.
This is a story I have not shared with many people. It was a story I did not know as a child, because the woman about which I am going to write was so loving, and kind that she would never haunt her grandchildren with such memories.
My grandmother was born in the 1930s to two alcoholic parents, two people who should not have had children, but they did. She had a twin. I haven't seen pictures of him, but I am sure he was a beautiful baby, with a ton of potential awaiting him. At the very least, he would have dozens of great-nieces and nephews in his future. But his parents were so drunk, and so negligent that he starved to death as a toddler. And my grandmother was brought to an orphanage. There was no Daddy Warbucks to rescue her. She was in and out of there until she was old enough to care for herself, and to become a mother to four of her own children, whom she loved as much as she possibly could until her death at age 59. I loved her fiercely, I still do, twenty three years after she left us, but I cannot help but think that no one deserves to live their childhood in such a world. We would consider her to be a success story. She died surrounded by love, and in a home she and her husband were able to buy, with enough money to eat well, and have special holiday celebrations, and her dream of owning an RV. But for every success story like hers, there are ten stories that would break your heart. Children living in orphanages across the world, growing up with attachment disorders because they are not held or cuddled ONCE in their first year of life. Children in foster care, being molested, beaten and ignored, because their parents were unfit. Babies tossed in dumpsters with their placentas still attached. Women, who know they are unfit, and being too scared of the above scenarios, attempting abortions on themselves with herbal remedies, coat hangers or suicide.
I have five children, that is no secret. I have had three miscarriages, which hurt my heart and always will. I have never had an abortion. I can't say I never would, because we never know what we are capable of until we are in that moment. If I knew my child would have a debilitating disorder and would live in agony for mere days or weeks, I may. If I knew carrying a pregnancy to term would kill me, and leave my children motherless, I may. If I were raped and left with my attacker's baby, I may. But I am also privileged, so my choices reflect my abilities and the support around me. I am pro-choice because I believe that so many women are not as privileged as I, and I am pro-choice because I do not believe it is my right, or the government (which is mainly run by males) have any right to force a decision on a woman who already has the world stacked against her, or by forcing a baby to be born into conditions that are unfit for human life. And I, for one, have no foster children or adopted children, so what right would I possibly have to tell a woman that those are her only viable options, if I am not willing to take on the responsibility of all of those abandoned children myself?
This is one reason why some women marched.
I also read a moving story from another woman, who is anti-choice, who marched because her daughter is a lesbian, and she was fighting to keep her daughter's rights to stay married to her wife.
Another story for a Muslim woman who has lived here her whole life, who marched because she is scared of the rhetoric about her religion. Another who marched because she lived in Flint, Michigan, and was terrified for the people of Standing Rock, whose water is about to become ruined by an unnecessary pipeline. And another woman who marched because her breast cancer was back, and as a pre-existing condition, she would be denied health care without AFA.
The march was not to bash men, as some blogs have stated. I am a feminist, and I love men. I love the way they smell, I love their strengths and most of their weaknesses. I love loving one, and I love being loved by one. I am raising a few. The march was not against men. In fact, many men marched alongside the women they adore. This march was FOR women. And if you are going to write a blog criticizing the women who simply want the world made better, for things to progress in the right direction, then aren't you, in essence, stating that you are not for women? That you do not believe in all of our ancestral females who fought for you to get here? To a place where you are ALLOWED to write public blogs? Even if you voted for the evil that is in office, had women not marched before you, you would not have been ALLOWED to vote for him. You would not have been ALLOWED to have your cushy suburban house in your name, because all you had would have belonged to your husband.
If you don't want to march, don't. Put your feet up and simply reap the rewards others have fought for you to have. If you want to march for something else you believe in, even if it isn't what I believe in- goddamn, girl, get out there and do it. But believe in SOMETHING. And check out the photographs of millions of people, loving on each other, and praising each other, and being non-violent fighters of progress, and try to feel the warmth of that beautiful fire on those rested feet of yours.
Another excellent read, but....you were never "taught to be non-confrontational, to be demure. " :P
ReplyDeleteCertainly not by mother, but by society as a whole.
ReplyDelete