a meme (not a real post, I know… bad ms. violet!)

I’ve been tagged by Laurelin!

1. One book that changed your life? Probably The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolf. It re-assured me during a time when I was doubting myself and my beliefs. Whenever I think “Am I the only one? Am I imagining all these things?”, I pick it up and I’m reminded that it is real and that feminism is as necessary today as it ever has been.

2. One book you have read more than once? The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath. It’s my favourite book ever and I’ve read it numerous times over the past few years. I probably know it almost off by heart now, but I still crave it every now and then.  

3. One book you would want on a desert island? Food For Free by Richard Mabey (although, I’m not sure how helpful it would be on a desert island…!). It’s a fantastic guide to all the wild-growing edible plants and has successfully converted me into a lover of dandelion! Call it a weed and I will attack!  

4. One book that made you laugh? Are You Dave Gorman made me chuckle under the duvet a few times.

5. One book that made you cry? The only book to have made me cry was The Diary Of Anne Frank, now I come to think of it.

6. One book you wish had been written? A decent journal.

7. One book you wish had never had been written? Pride and Prejudice. Sorry, but it bored me to tears. (there are probably more offending books out there really, but it’s all I could think of at the moment! Apologies to any Austinites)

8. One book you are currently reading? The Outsider by Albert Camus

9. One book you have been meaning to read? The Second Sex by de Beauvoir is still sitting on my shelf waiting for me.

10. Now tag five people! I tag anyone who’s reading this!

 …

In other news…

The postman has just pushed my copies of Subtext and Uplift through the letterbox! Both magazines look fantastic and I’ll settle on the sofa with the cat on my lap, tea by my side and give them a good reading shortly. Massive love is on its way to Gill from me for setting up Subtext, as I know it wasn’t the easiest thing in the world. I originally wanted to help out, but things went a bit pear-shaped with me at the time. So well done to all the ladies involved in making both magazines!

I will do a post at some point. Quite possibly about the wonders of washable sanitary towels, which I have just discovered.

the little things

Sometimes, it’s the little things that really get to me.

So, I have just been to a job interview, which I feel went well. This is very very good news to me as (and I haven’t mentioned this before, as I’m still dealing with it) I suffer from a degree of social phobia. I swing between opposites - sometimes I am confident, ballsy and when impassioned I have no problem spouting my opinions, but then sometimes I can’t leave the house to go to the shop to buy milk as I can’t bare it. My behaviour is irrational and has taken me down to depressive slumps over the last few years, because I have been unable to understand it. “How come in some situations you are confident and open, but then randomly you are a nervous wreck during situations which should be easy?” I’d ask myself. I still don’t know, but I’m becoming stronger. I haven’t had a crying session in a while and I’m getting closer to understanding it. So (and I’m getting to the point here, don’t worry!), I felt insanely proud of myself for going to an interview and doing well. To be honest, whether I get the job is not vitally important here, as the fact I was able to COPE with it is what means something to me.

I was walking along a narrow grass path alongside a busy main road, feeling proud and happy and as though things were going to get better and normal for me again, when a lorry loudly beeped its horn at me as it passed, frightening me to death and almost knocking me into the road. “Nob”, I thought as I grumbled under my breath a bit and walked on. But then, a minute or so later, another lorry passed and did the same thing. And then a truck also did the same. Three vehicles all beeped at me in a matter of minutes.

Why?

Why is beeping at a 19 year old female walking down a busy main road entertaining? What exactly had I done that warranted being “yelled” at (because that is how a beep feels)? Was it because I was wearing a skirt? Because I had my long hair down and it was blowing in the traffic wind a bit? Was it because I was wearing a fitted blouse? Or did I have a sign on my back saying “WHORE! PLEASE BEEP AT ME!”?

And I know how it goes : “It’s only a bit of fun!” “It’s a compliment really!” “Walk about by yourself and you’re asking for it!”. No. No. NO. It’s not a bit of fun - it’s terrorising. All I am doing is walking down a PUBLIC footpath, after an interview and feeling somewhat proud of myself, when a massive heavy duty lorry feels the need to VERY loudly draw attention to me in a vulgar way. It’s offensive, whether the shitheads driving the vehicles in question think so or not.

And yeah, it’s only minor compared to some instances of street harassment, but it is still part of the same thing and comes from the same mentality - making women feel uncomfortable makes certain men feel “big and strong”. It’s an ego boost. It’s “Haha, I’M the one in the position of power here. I’M in the safety of my big MANLY truck. YOU’RE a pathetic woman on the street, therefore I will show YOU who is boss.”

You know what? Fuck you.

Fuck you for ruining my good mood. And FUCK YOU to the men who did a similar mood trashing to BB the other day as well. FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU.

And, while I’m at it - fuck you to those who yelled at me from a car “ARE YOUR TITS REAL?!!” And fuck you to the 12 year old boys who walked up to me in an alleyway and said “Give us a blow job and we’ll give ya a couple of quid, yeah?”. And fuck you to the old man on the bus who felt the need to stare at my chest and try and touch me inappropriately. You scared me to hell, y’know? I ran home and cried. So fuck you. And fuck you to all the others that I’ve tried hard to forget.

Just. Fuck you.

How are we supposed to be able to cope? We women are being treated like objects and we are supposed to enjoy it. Well, I for one do not. I hate it. I hate how it makes me question myself and how it makes me hate my body. I hate the way it makes me want to avoid going near men when I am out alone. I hate how it makes me and other women live in a constant state of being “aware” and “on the edge”.

I hate it. And fuck you.
(sorry for the non-constructive rant here. Sometimes I just need to type all my anger out)

This is Feminism

I didn’t post anything yesterday for Blog Against Sexism Day, mainly due to the fact that I was feeling uninspired and couldn’t think of anything to write about. Besides, most of what I post about here is about sexism anyway.

 Laura from I’m Not A Feminist, But sums up rather well the impact feminism has had on her personally:

“Although the feminist gaze can bring a lot of grief as you begin to see the reality of the world around you and realise that we still have a long, long way to go towards achieving equality, it is also truly empowering. Never before in my life have I been happy and proud to be a woman, and never have I felt so confident in my own skin and with who I am. I hope that I can share what I have learnt and am continuing to learn with other women so that they too can feel as wonderful as I do now and join us in the fight for respect and equality.”

Stating that you are a feminist truly is empowering. The moment that you stop shying away from the term amidst fears of its negative connotations, a huge burden feels as though it has been lifted from your shoulders. I’ve always felt feminist, but up until about four years ago I would never claimed to have been one. But, of course, with that burden being lifted from you, your eyes are then opened to the disgusting truth about the place of the female in the modern world.

I’ve been told “Why do you bother getting angry about it? There’s nothing you can do and you only end up upsetting yourself”. But to those comments I say “NO” - there is something I can do about it. I can be vocal, I can confront people with the truth, I can prove that saying “that’s just the way it is” and shrugging your shoulders is utter bullshit, I can say louldy and proudly that “I am a feminist!” and refuse to stereotyped or belittled or offended for simply stating the truth.

And everytime I hear someone say “You’re right. I never looked at it that way before”, I feel and I hope and I wish for change.

A shameless plug

My boyfriend keeps pestering me to put up a link here.

He’s doing a sponsored walk along the Great Wall Of China in October and his latest fundraising scheme involves this on eBay. All money raised goes to Concern, a charity working to improve the lives of those living in absolute poverty.

I was thinking the message could be something regarding China’s human rights situation… “Free Tibet” or someting… But I suppose that could result in the locking up of el boyfriendo by Chinese officials. Perhaps “Patriarchy : fuck off!” would do the job.

One Of Those Days

Every now and then I find myself in one of those days where it seems there is no hope left.

On Saturday I went into one of my beloved Oxfam bookshops in Shrewsbury and found a book entitled What’s Right With Feminism by Elaine Storkey. I’m broke, but it was only a pound so I thought I’d “treat myself”. I then looked inside at the book’s title on the first page to see that someone had scrawled “NOT MUCH.” underneath “What’s Right With Feminism”. It was in the same handwriting and pencil as the price above, so I can only assume it was doings of one of the staff (predominately middle-aged women). I fumed! Not only had I been insulted regarding my choice of book and beliefs, but I had been insulted by someone trying to sell me the bloody item! So it wasn’t just rude, but incredibly unprofessional and not at all business-like. I felt like pointing out that if it hadn’t have been for feminism then these women would not even have jobs!

Fool that I am, I didn’t complain. Mainly because the queue for paying was taking forever and my patience was waning.

Following that, I then went into a BHS branch to be aggravated further. In the gift section I found a “joke” device (some sort of mirror to attach to a man’s shoe) for use in order to look up the skirts of passing women. Yes, because sexual harassment is incredibly comical! If I ever want a good laugh then the first thing I always think of is how funny those guys are who leer at women, harass them in the street, make lewd suggestions and rape them! Nothing funnier!

My boyfriend pointed out that they may as well be selling sets advertised as “The Handy Travel Rape Kit”. I just can’t understand how it would be an entertaining and witty gift and - moreover - I can’t comprehend how BHS would even consider selling such an item.

But then, after WHSmith and the Playboy kid’s stationary, perhaps nothing should surprise me.

We then went back to my boyfriend’s house to find the girlfriend of one of his housemates ironing two huge piles of his t-shirts. I could understand if the girl was doing him a favour due to him being ill or busy, but he was just dicking about upstairs with friends. All she did was slave away and sigh.

Sometimes you just feel as though you are the only one who actually sees the injustices in life.

Single Mums & shopping and giggles

This reminded me of my own useless father.
When I was about seven, I seem to recall a certain degree of glamour connected to those kids whose parents were divorced. I mean, two bedrooms? Extra fun step-mums and step-dads? Weekends away? How lucky! Then it went and happened to me and, obviously, it wasn’t the ‘cool’ experience that I thought it would be. Dad drifted from place to place, the £30 a week maintence money that my mom was supposed to recieve each week for three children soon stopped (£10 a child. Surely there is something very wrong with that?), as did the weekends away. Plus, it wasn’t even as though the exclusive Lost Children Of Divorcees Club was that exclusive anymore. Suddenly, it seemed as though everyone in Year Five had mommies and daddies who didn’t live together.

So it became the norm. I’m not going to lie and say “Single parent families are like non-stop parties!” - we all know it’s hard. Although, at the time I was rather oblivious to just how difficult my mother found it at times. But, as corny as it sounds, it was almost like a team effort - all of us working together to make life easier and more fun.

Now I look at families where the parents are still married and living together after about twenty years and - god - do they hate each other. Obviously, I am sure that some people stayed together and lived happily ever after - but, from looking around me, all I see is resentment amongst long-term husbands and wives. And I know children (and many adult children) secretly wishing that their parents had just divorced years ago, without using the ugly justification of “we’re staying together for the kids”. What a cruel thing to say. This is not the 1950s. Children are no longer valid scapegoats for staying in horrible relationships.

And what does this teach these kids? That marriage is a binding contract and that no matter how unhappy you are you are obliged to stay put, whether you like it or not? All around me I see young girls and women follwing the poor examples of their mothers by marrying into relationships which they are not even slightly comfortable in or sure about.

My own mother is incredibly independent, outspoken and intelligent - therefore I have grown to be a similar person. Divorce is not a nice thing, but surely the alternative - staying in a damaging relationship - is more dangerous to all parties concerned?

Feminist Shame & lipstick and high-heels

I’ve always secretly held the belief that however intelligent, open-minded and liberal a man may be, his ideal woman would not be one who refers to herself as a feminist:

Matt says:
and what exactly do you want me to do?
Matt says:
being a guy in an office for a search marketing company…
Ms. Violet says:
I don’t mean you have to ACTIVELY do anything. It’s just that the more people have a decent attitude to it and display it in public, the better. The only way that attitudes change is by first changing the little things. It’s like those damn women that say “I’m not a feminist, but….”. It’s like it is SHAMEFUL to actually want some degree of equality and fair representation!
Ms. Violet says:
I would love for you to be proud of the fact that your girlfriend is an intelligent feminist, but in this society it is just not going to work like that
Ms. Violet says:
as you will just always be ashamed of that part of me. Not privately, but in public.
Ms. Violet says:
It’s not your fault,
Ms. Violet says:
just how society is
Ms. Violet says:
and THAT is what I want to change

In private, perhaps he will gush over his girlfriend’s ability to form her own outspoken opinions and be proud of her, but the fear of ridicule from fellow men will still dominate when it comes to announcing his partner as a feminist. This is not generally his fault and I do sympathise. Peer pressure is a nasty thing and certainly is a prevailing force within groups of young men. Much like women, men are a very bizarre breed when they congregate. It’s almost as though the hormones bounce off one another, forming a Scary Giant Mutant Of Gender set to be frighteningly hyperbolic and (stereo)typically male/female. This is not necessarily a very bad thing, as the differences between men and women should be explored and not repressed. A boys or girls night out is just harmless fun, a vent, etc - but it is when these gangs of total and pure hormone start to gain power and influence that I begin to worry.

So, the painful truth is that however understanding and supportive a man is of his partner’s feminist stance, he will be relcutant to admit this when out drinking with the ‘guys’. But, there is always hope. If just one man in a group were stand up and proclaim his love and admiration for feminists then maybe - just MAYBE - at least one other man would admit to agreeing.

Equality needs both sides to develop and work : the fight against sexual discimation is a fight for everybody and NOT solely women.

…

I’ve generalised about men again. Apologises, but generalisations need to be made at times.