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26 August 2007

Thanks Beth!



So... Beth of Think, Think, Think nominated me for the Rockin' Girl Blogger award in July and I've just finally gotten around to posting it. Thank you Beth! Here are the 5 women I am nominating for the award, in alphabetical order:

Em

Kat

Kayla

Liz

Nama

Now you ladies get to post this award on your blogs and nominate 5 Rockin' Girl Bloggers each!

16 August 2007

Blame.

Why is it, that when a man's behavior is inappropriate, the woman is the one who feels guilty?

As a feminist, advocate, and activist, I have frequently expressed my outrage at the attacks on women that are blamed on them. It isn't fair. No matter who she is or what she does, no woman deserves to be disrespected, violated, or attacked. Or BLAMED.

I know this, I teach this, I live and breathe this. And yet...

I recently encountered a man who I found to be attractive, attentive, and charming. He was a ready conversationalist and I was happy to talk to someone interesting....

Until he wasn't anymore. And innuendo and filth were pouring out of him. I have never encountered anyone so straight-forwardly sleazy, at least no one that supposedly holds the same values as I do. Once he opened that gate, he didn't hold back at all. I was shocked. But I didn't act shocked, because that's what he wanted. I held my own, let it roll off my back, and extricated myself from the situation as soon as I could. With my pride and my composure intact.


Once I was home, I found myself feeling guilty. Even shameful. Guilty that I may have said or done something to provoke him and cause his behavior.

Why did I automatically put the blame on myself? I didn't do anything wrong. Why should I feel shame?

Because women have been made to feel shame for "tempting" men for eons. Inappropriate behavior from men is nearly always blamed squarely on the woman. And is the blame placed on her intellect? Her accomplishments? Her wit and charm? Her sense of humor? Her remarkable talents? Nope. It is placed on her anatomy. She is usually at fault merely for being female.

I've encountered this numerous times in my life. I was chastised and vilified on my mission when others expressed their feelings for me. I was always blamed. Of course I couldn't have gone there to do the work, I must only be there to catch a husband, since I couldn't get married any other way. This is how I was treated. I fought to hold my own, to earn the respect of those around me and to focus on the task at hand, and yet was considered half as committed while working twice as hard. I usually didn't even know I had "tempted" the individual until I was sat down with an anatomy book and lectured about how men got sick if and when they were repeatedly turned on with no outlet. This was my fault. I was watched. I was threatened with being "sent home." Because I am friendly, beautiful, and female. Apparently I was making young men sick left and right. The only thing I could have changed was the friendly part. I could try and hide the beautiful parts like millions of wounded women who have injured, mutilated, and hidden themselves in an effort at self-protection. Because they, like me, by virtue of being female have been blamed for the actions of someone else. I could have given up on my goals, given up the joy and passion that I experienced as a missionary, but instead I chose to fight. Not in a traditional sense. I did not go head to head with anyone. I merely worked harder, focused more, and proved that I was capable. The accusations still stung, they were still ever-present, but I let them roll off my back.

This is where I answer my own questions:

I blamed myself because I have been blamed by others. It was ingrained. I have been taught how to walk, talk, sit, stand, move, smile, dress, and breathe, so I would not tempt or distract a man. So I would not incite him to do something he shouldn't - by virtue of existing. I have been made to feel ashamed for being a woman. I feel outraged when it happens to others because I know what it feels like. I will call every filthy man out. I will never again allow someone else to make me feel ashamed of my body, my breasts, my smile, my personality, my vagina.

It is always easier to fight for others than it is to fight for ourselves.

08 August 2007

Road Trip!

I'm going to New Mexico on Friday for my friend, CJ's wedding. I'm going along to style her hair and make-up. I'm really excited, not only because I'm monumentally happy for her, but because I've never been to New Mexico. Except for driving through a corner now and again. I'm driving with my friends from work, Danielle and Bianca, and it's going to be a blast! I'll take lots of pictures and post them! The only down side is that the drive will be long and the trip far too short... we'll be back Sunday night. I LOVE road trips and have been hankering to drive from here to Florida to see my sister Meme and all my oldest homeys, and there are lots of stops I want to make along the way. And some of them are a little bit out of the way. I want to go to New Orleans, Nashville (to visit my brother), San Antonio (because it's one of my favorite places), Atlanta (because it's been TOO long), South Carolina (because my Daddy's buried there and it's also been TOO long), and Savannah (because it's my most favorite city of all). If anyone's up for a two week road trip, Holla!

05 August 2007

Music to my heart.

At my essence, I am a homebody. I don't mind spending my Friday or Saturday nights hanging at home by myself or with my family. Lately I find myself turning down my friends' invitations in favor of spending the weekend at my mom's. My nephews are usually there and we play in the sprinklers, eat popsicles, read stories, make messes, and my favorite part: we sing together. Boodji and Cheeks are both natural singers and can follow any song after hearing it only once. I usually end up sleeping over there as Cheeks won't go to sleep without me if I'm anywhere in the house and I usually fall asleep curled up nose to nose with him, his little fingers wrapped tight around mine. Last night my Mom, my sis Mojo, Boodji, Cheeks and I all lay in a heap on my mom's bed singing lullabies. I love singing with my family. It makes me feel solid and grounded. It reminds me that I am a singer. It's in my blood. I never sound better than when harmonizing with the familiar voices that have the same tone and timbre as my own. And I love waking up in a tangle of arms and legs.

I haven't done much singing outside of family stuff since I moved here. Nothing like when I was in Provo singing in church with friends and with Joe, Moydie and Austin. I've missed it. I nearly forgot that I am a singer until Ritz moved here last week and pulled out all the old songs. I haven't even sung "Dirty Man" in more than two years! I know, it's shocking. Even more shocking is that I haven't sung my signature song, "Wonderful World" in just as long. I'm determined to start singing regularly again. I miss it. It's a really good outlet for me. I might even go so far as to take some proper singing lessons. We'll see.