Book Reviews

Ok peeps,

I'm adding a new section to this blog for book reviews. It's going to include reviews of feminist literature as well as other works that could be approached through a feminist lens.

The Other Night at Natalie's

I'm watching Natalie pace the room and bite her fingernails. I want to reach out to her, but she needs the silence right now. I can feel my heart beating and I know hers is racing twice as fast. I feel nervous and my hands are sweating, but my eyes are locked on her. Her face is pointed at the ground, eyebrows furrowed, still pacing, back and forth and back again. She's holding the phone in her hand. Her hands shake at the idea of pressing the buttons. There's one number, and it's calling her so strongly that one look at that phone and her fingers will betray her.

Natalie knows there is a girl on the other side of that phone line. Even though its wireless, she feels connected to her. This girl is in serious, serious trouble. No, she's not hurt or in danger. But she's standing at a cliff right now. It's a steep cliff and the wind is blowing really hard. Normally there's proper attire and equipment for this type of weather, but this girl has brought nothing, not even a sweater, and the wind has pushed her to the edge.

Natalie knows this girl is crying for help. And people are coming to her rescue! But her fate is being gambled in the hands of people with beliefs that are illogical, unfounded, and close-minded. Natalie knows that she could really help this girl because she's had the same experience. She's been to that same cliff and stepped back. Despite everything around her telling her to jump -- her family and the beliefs they instilled in her, her friends, her boyfriend -- Natalie knew she wasn't prepared to jump. No equipment, no training, no-go. Natalie needs to call that number and tell this girl that she doesn't have to jump either. The wind may be on her back, her legs may be ready to give in, but if her heart is not there yet, there's nothing wrong with waiting. Yes, it's the advice that no one else will give to this girl. But it's advice of empathy, advice of true love. 

I watch her eyes quickly dart at me. I suddenly feel stupid for lying on her bed. Should I sit? Should I go? It's suddenly very hot. I clear my throat and look at her again. Her eyes have moved to the window. She walks over to it in sync with her pacing. Her hand still holds the phone, but she uses the other to wave at the curtain. In the sunlight I can see tears in her eyes. There's a hard lump in my throat and I don't want to swallow. It'll unblock all the tears inside of me. Natalie's fingers touch over the buttons of the phone. I know she wants to call, I know she wants to help. But if she helps, she may lose her own entire family. Suddenly, every relationship she's ever molded, cemented, cracked, fixed, loved, gone! in an instant. One phone call could do that.

But this girl has her whole life in front of her! She's about to graduate college, and almost completely debt free! Why? Because she worked her ass off all through high school AND college to pay off her loans. Yeah. But this girl is even smarter than that. She moved to America from Sierra Leone at eight years old and can now speak both English and Spanish fluently on top of her native French. She wants to go back to Sierra Leone one day and give back everything she's gotten in her life abroad. She wants there to be a future in Sierra Leone like the present she enjoys here. She loves life. She makes jokes. She smiles. That big toothy smile that makes everything feel happy. She's beautiful. She's beautiful because she's worked so hard, and she knows it, and she's happy. And that same girl is now in distress -- serious, serious distress -- and Natalie might be the only one with real guidance to give.

Natalie needs to call that number, but the only thing stopping her is the one thing she cannot bear to imagine: Confessing her secret abortion. Because depending on how this girl takes something as "controversial" as that, a conversation like the one Natalie wants to have has the potential to get back to this girl's boyfriend. And this girl's boyfriend happens to be the cousin of Natalie.

I'm watching Natalie's whole body as it quivers. Her knees give a bit, but her feet are firm. I feel nervous and my hands are sweating. I can feel my heart beating and know hers is racing twice as fast.

This cousin isn't some long lost relative. This cousin isn't just a childhood pal. This cousin is the son of Natalie's Uncle Ben. Uncle Ben who is the older brother of Natalie's father. The best friend of Natalie's father. The mentor of Natalie's father. Uncle Ben who joked about running for congress during Thanksgiving and then bragged about casual lunches with Republican politicians at Christmas dinner. Uncle Ben who is the community pastor with the pious morale of a self-righteous priest. Uncle Ben who held a youth sermon called, "The Only Safe Sex is No Sex". Uncle Ben the passionate anti-choice activist. Uncle Ben whose son has gotten his girlfriend pregnant and is pressuring her into raising a child because anything else is "murder".

And if Natalie calls, she has the potential to end all of this madness.
And if Natalie calls, she has the potential to destroy her entire family.
And I'm watching Natalie pace the room and bite her fingernails.
And I want to reach out to her, but I know she needs the silence right now.

One phone call with the potential to save a life,
One phone call with the potential to destroy another.

What would you do?

What's Your Feminism?

What's your Feminism?

I can't stop asking myself this question. I truly feel like feminism is an onion -- one belief in gender equality wrapped within so many layers of social injustice. And it all stinks. Where do I start? Where do I start?

Do I start with child brides? Do I start with child marriage and how insane and disgusting that is?
That girls as young as 8 or 9 are married off to older men like merchandise sold at the store? They are sent away from their family. They never get to go to school to get even a basic education. They're forced to have sex, without protection, where, for example in sub-Saharan Africa, girls 15-19 are 2-6 times more likely to contract HIV than boys their same age. The International Center for Research on Women reports that girls younger than 15 are five times more likely to die in childbirth than women in their 20s. Pregnancy is consistently among the leading causes of death for girls ages 15 to 19 worldwide. You can check out all the figures here.

What about female genital mutilation? Yikes!!!! Ugh, just the thought people, just the thought! Sometimes they take young girls and tell them it's their "Woman's Day" or something like that. It's sometimes even a celebration. Then they lay these young girls down, many times in unsterilized places, and saw off their clitoris, sometimes the inner lips too, sometimes the outer lips too. Sometimes with dirty razors. And no anesthesia. No pain killers. Maybe some "warm milk" as a reward. Why? Because "it is necessary to control women's sexual urges. They must be chaste to preserve their beauty." PEOPLE, should we start with this madness???

The list goes on. And on. And on.

But in my day to day life, I'm not seeing these atrocities. I don't live in that world. And while I do care and want to help them and fight for them, I am still in the confines of a first world reality, where there are also very serious and concerning problems here. So.... I've spent a year learning about issues all over the world, now how do I find the layers that I can personally fight in my day-to-day life?

Then my friend posted this picture on facebook.


Finally. Some direction.

So I started thinking about it...

I believe in challenging ablism by rethinking our understanding of disability, disorder and disease.
I believe that we need to broaden our definition of beauty to include all body types and colors. This notion that only white girls with blonde hair and blue eyes are beautiful is outdated and racist. It perpetuates the idea that only whiteness (and the oppression that comes with it; think: colonizers, slave owners, etc) is beautiful, righteous, and pure while and anything else (i.e. blackness, people of color, "the heathens", "the savages") is dirty, impure, and lascivious. Not only is that an oppressive narrative and a disgusting idea, it's fucking bullshit (Beyonce, I'm looking at you).
I believe that sexuality is a spectrum. We are all just humans and without learning any of these sexual structures, we would probably see this more clearly and without so much opposition to it. I personally blame religion, but while that's working itself out, I'm going to be one of the people to say it first: I accept you for who you are, and I don't care who you love as long as it's consensual. Period.
Transgender people exist all over the world, but I've never seen such positive visibility to them as I saw with the "ladyboys" in Thailand. They're beautiful. They're funny. They're people! And they were accepted as just that. I'd like to see that attitude all over the world.

But ultimately, what I want to fight for is a world that's anti-racist, pro-choice, and against classism.
I've had experiences directly related to the lack of these things in our society. I empathize with those who suffer in a system that does not favor them, sometimes doesn't even acknowledge them, and often times actively oppresses them.

I am not saying that I feel personally oppressed. While I am a brown, and a woman I also have a lot of privilege. I'm half white. My family is well off. I'm pretty. I'm thin. I'm able-bodied. My mind is healthy.

And as one of the people with so much privilege, I need to use that power to show solidarity with those still struggling, and to challenge the social constructs that still cast shadow on my own humanity. So that's my feminism.

What's yours?