This is what Patriarchy looks like. And Rape Culture, and glass ceilings, and , and, and… She was fired. (another/different link here) (and yet another link here) She was kicked out of prom. She was walking while Fat and Female. All of these things happened this week. (and I’m not going to even include the ridiculousness which abounds elsewhere – here and here and here (well, not really there) but, I’m sure you can use google).
At this point, it doesn’t matter what the truth is. Because the truth is different from the point we are held at, at the tip of the sword. And it is not Seppuku, nor an initiation. It is standing at the tip of a sword as a hostage.
This is the point that is a problem. And whatever shape, size, age, sex, gender, race or religion mask it wears, it has to stop. Patriarchy privilege is a real thing and until we put a name on (and point at) the elephant in the room, it won’t stop. These women aren’t pointing this out because they are “emotional” or “overreacting”. They are pointing it out because it marginalizes us (women) as humans. I am a woman, I feel this pain, I ache for these women and cheer for the voice they have found.
It pisses me off. Just like is pisses me off that #BringBackOurGirls has no resolution. It pisses me off that a girl gets shot for wanting an education, and it pisses me off that there is a BOOMING (over $31Billion annually) human trafficking business (by the way, did you know that the global average cost for your own slave is just $90? 70% of slaves are women, and over half are children). I am doing a lot of pissing at this point …
Anger is good. It is a secondary emotion that moves you to action. It is the spark that starts the fires of passion. Anger is a useful emotion.
I once listened to a reading at the Hugo House in Seattle on a cold blustery night. It was a non-fiction piece the author wrote after meeting with a girl over about a year. This girl was a part of the sex/slave trade and was brought across the border into the United States (from Canada) in the back of an Ice Cream Truck. She was a popsicle. Fit to be eaten, her stick (soul) ready to be discarded. She was kept in an abandoned house in Portland Oregon and chained to a bed in the basement. She eventually escaped by kicking out a boarded up window and squeezing her sickly-sweet-stick body through broken glass and barbed wire.
When does this stop? When does the abuse, the victimization, the exploitation and the shaming stop?
It will stop only when the people in power start fighting for those who are oppressed. It will stop when one person, one hundred people, one thousand people, one million people, stand up and say “Stop”. All of the people. Not just women, or children or minorities or homeless or disenfranchised. All of the people. Not the labels. Labels are for clothes.