...I don't know exactly what a prayer is. I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass, how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields, which is what I have been doing all day. Tell me, what else should I have done? Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon? Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life? Excerpt From The Summer Day by Mary Oliver
A co-worker closed the door to the staff room behind him.
It locked automatically
and I started planning what I could use as a weapon:
smash the glass beside the fridge into his eye.
pick up the fork next to me and sink it into his leg.
claw him across the face if I couldn’t get to anything in time.
As I calculated how hard it would be to shove his body weight off of me,
he finished making his lunch, said, “Sup,” and left,
the door automatically locking behind him.
I expect if I told him I was prepared to stab him with the corner of my staff ID if I had to,
he would say what I’ve heard too often, the one we all know
but are getting wearily suspicious of:
Not all men are like That.
When I was eleven, all the girls in my class got sent to self-defence
because they assumed we’d need it one day.
When I was twelve, there was a prostitute’s body dumped in the river next to my house
because someone thought she was disposable.
When I was thirteen, it happened again and this time the man went to jail
and people stood outside the courtroom and held up signs that he did the right thing.
When I was fourteen, my friend showed up to a sleepover late, chest heaving from sobbing
and from running four blocks after getting chased by a man that followed her off the bus.
When I was fifteen, my mother accused me of being a Man Hater
and I said, “No, but god, would you blame me if I was?”
I got catcalled and then got laughed at when I flipped them off.
they pulled up beside me and I clutched my bag tighter,
my hand going in for my keys and my mind going over how their noses would look
if I smashed them in with my elbow.
“What’s the big deal,” the guy at the steering wheel asked. “We’re just complimenting you. We’re not like That.”
Sorry, but I’m not going to trust you in case I end up on a poster labelled ‘MISSING.’
Even if you seem like the nicest guy, I’ll still have one hand holding my keys
as the only knife I’m allowed, because I don’t know how far you’re going to take it:
if you won’t back off when I tell you I don’t want to date you
if you’ll shout BITCH at me when I don’t respond well to your catcall
if you’ll expect my body as a reward for treating me like a human being
if you’ll try to take what you think you’re owed by being a man
if you’ll turn me into another statistic that people shudder away from.
I have been trained to assume that it’s a wolf in sheep’s clothing
or face the consequences.
I don’t know if you’ll nod when I reject you
or pump me full of bullets.
Every single woman I’ve talked to has a story where they haven’t felt safe in their own body
because of what a man said or did.
Not all men are like That, but god, it’s enough. 'Welcome to Girlhood: None Of Us Are Safe,' theappleppielifestyle. (via theappleppielifestyle)
- katy perry: i am not a feminist
- shailene woodley: i love men and i think the idea of ‘raise women to power, take the man away from the power’ is never going to work out
- lana del rey: feminism is just not an interesting concept
- lorde: *puts down many female artists, including selena gomez, britney spears, and amy winehouse, calling what they do “not feminism”*
- taylor swift: i don’t think i’m a feminist, i don’t really think about things as guys versus girls and i never have
- lady gaga: i am not a feminist, i hail men and i love men
- marina diamandis: everybody thinks feminism is about hairy legged women who hate men but it’s not, it’s about equality
- MARINA DIAMANDIS: i consider myself a feminist because i believe women should have equal rights- it’s just that the term feminism conjures up other things for people
- MARINA FUCKING DIAMANDIS: i feel completely shocked when i hear that female artists don’t want to be considered feminists… maybe i’m being a little bit harsh and maybe people think of the term in a bad way but it just means women have equal rights
never stay anywhere I’m not
very much wanted. I have too
many scars to be breaking
my bones to fit into places
that weren’t made to fit me. anne, maybe I always feel out of place because I’m always placing myself where I don’t belong. (via floorboardcreak)
I think he said that women should offer to pay half, knowing they’ll probably be turned down. I said, well, sometimes — but what if the other person invited you someplace really expensive? What if you agreed to a date with the guy and he spent an hour saying crazy racist shit to you and you felt like you couldn’t escape? This is what led to our real disagreement.
The male debater felt strongly that if a woman wasn’t interested in a second date, she should say so on the spot. If the man says, ‘Let’s do this again sometime,’ the woman shouldn’t say, ‘Sure, great,’ and then back out later. I said that that was a nice ideal, but that he should keep in mind that most women spent most of their lives living in low-level fear of physical aggression from men. I think about avoiding rape (or other violence) every time I walk home from the subway, every time there’s an unexpected knock at the door, and certainly every time I piss off an unhinged man. So, if I were on a date with a man who I felt was unbalanced, creepy, overly aggressive, or possibly violent, and he asked if I wanted to ‘do this again sometime’, I would say whatever I felt would avoid conflict. And then I would leave, wait awhile, and hope that letting him down politely a few days later would avoid his finding me and turning my skin into an overcoat.
The male debater was furious that I had even brought this up. He felt that the threat of violence against women was irrelevant, and that I was playing some kind of ‘rape card’ as a debate trick. He got angrier and angrier as we argued. I also got angrier and angrier, although I worked hard to keep speaking in a calm and considered way. He was shouting and cutting me off when I tried to speak. I pointed out that the debater himself was displaying exactly the sort of behavior that would make me very uncomfortable on a date. THAT made him livid.
He then called me ‘passive-aggressive’.
I was genuinely taken aback. ‘Actually,’ I said, ‘I call this ‘behaving myself.’’ It’s a lot of work to stay calm when you’re just as furious as the other person, and that other person is shouting at you. I felt that I was acting like a grownup — at some emotional cost to myself — and I wanted credit, not insults, for being able to speak in a normal tone of voice when I was having to explain things like, ‘We can’t tell who the rapists are before they turn violent, so sometimes we have to be cautious with men who do not intend to harm us.’
Note the use of ‘trick’ and ‘passive-aggressive’ suggesting hidden motives, artificiality, inauthenticity: femininity seen as some subversive danger seen to masculinity, and perhaps here also the danger of a woman being right…