Indecision

I’m not sure what to even say considering I’ve feverishly written about my frustrations with the way American society sees black people. This decision, though sadly not surprising, has left me in a state of utter hopelessness for the justice system. Though, the justice system has never really offered any sense of solace. It is the justice system that has many times been the justification for mistreatment and condoned racist behavior. It’s hard to think of myself as being an individual or citizen of the world, when events like this turn my world upside down. It’s hard to not feel like an afterthought. On top of that is the feeling of being disenfranchised and irrationally criminalized just because my skin is darker. It’s one of those things that if you truly think about it your head will explode.

With 200+ years of inequality, mental and physical torture, prejudice, and let’s not forget the inescapable pain of racism, black citizens are still fighting for humanity. All the while living in a country, as W.E.B. Dubois so candidly put it, whose systems were not built to protect us. He said this about 100 or so years ago, and it still holds true today.

Except today more people are outraged. Today there are more people who are tired of holding their tongues and following the sordid status quo. Today people are ready for change, fighting for change. Today people are tired of these unforgivable, senseless systems that do more harm than good. Today there is a consensus that America cannot continue on this destructive path of apathy and ignorance. Though it’s hard to hold on to and it seems to be a constant ebb and flow more than a constant feeling, I still have hope for humanity. I still have hope that change will come. Big change. Meaningful change. It has to. It has to or I honestly don’t know how we could progress as a society on all sorts of levels.

Cat Calling: Conversation Repellant

There was this one time I was watching Ugly Betty when I was going through an emotionally trying period. Ok, I was just bored. Anyway, I was watching this scene where Betty was walking through her neigborhood and some men started yelling profane things like, “Hey baby, where YOU goin’,” and whistling obscenely. Now, I know you’re probably like, but how the hell can you whistle obscenely? Think of this cartoon when you try to imagine the person from which this seemingly innocent sound is coming…

Super sexy.

The thing that disturbed me immensely about that scene was that when Betty discovered those Neanderthals weren’t directing their sexually frustrated attention toward her, but some other innocent woman, she looked disappointed. I understand what the scene was suppose to mean. Betty wanted the men to find her attractive because she doesn’t receive that kind of attention very often, if at all, but that opens the Pandora’s Box to a whole new horrible wave of thought that women need men to validate their looks and that it’s acceptable to cat call women as long as it’s a “compliment.”

Women love compliments, amiright?! Unsolicited, explicit comments about their bodies because it makes them feel good that men notice. Yeah, you keep thinking that.

There have been a flurry of wonderful pieces about how frustrated women are by this age-old occurrence, and there’s so much to be said about the people who respond with, “You women are overreacting.” No the f*ck we’re not. Women can’t complain about mistreatment because then we’re seen as crazy, emotional hysterics or, even better, the abominable F word, which leads me to another rant about the stigma attached to feminism.

No, seriously, this is a real question. I do not understand women against feminism. I understand women who maybe don’t agree with a lot of feminist thought, but being actively AGAINST feminism? I imagine this demographic as being very young impressionable girls who have not yet seen the harsh reality of gender inequality and have not ever watched an episode of *insert CW show here* where women are basically mindless objects that are strictly obsessed with male characters on the show instead of, well, anything else. Sigh, I digress. Back to cat calling.

I can go through my plethora of highly irritating, creepster stories of men old enough to be my father “paying me compliments” while I begrudgingly walk pass, repeating in my head, “Please don’t say anything to me. Please don’t say anything to me. Please don’t say anything to me. Please don’t say anything to me.” I can share with you the sinking feeling when I am disappointed time after time by the effortless nonsense that flows out of these “gentlemen’s” mouths and their genuine bewilderment when they don’t get the reaction they believe they deserve. What do they expect?! "Oh, you like how my butt looks in my dress? Here’s my phone number.“

NOT GONNA HAPPEN, BUDDY. However, what I really want to share is the feeling I get when someone is telling me to "Smile,” or “I can eat you up,” or “Where’re you goin?” It’s not necessarily a feeling of fear or discomfort, but those are most definitely present. It’s disbelief. Because these men feel they can talk to me however they want, it makes me feel devalued, insignificant, unimportant, powerless. I cannot control someone else’s actions, but I would hope that in this world there is an understood undercurrent of respect we give each other, but when I’m cat called that respect is lost. It feels dehumanizing. When I just want to walk to the train to get to work early in the morning, I don’t want to have to walk by another human and pray they don’t ruin the next 10/15 minutes of my day with a disrespectful statement about my body. No, it’s not fair, and it’s not acceptable. It has got to stop.

 

Women do like compliments, hell everybody likes compliments, but there is a place and time that is appropriate for doling out these intimate observations, and that time is ON A DATE with the person or at least having spoken to them for some time. It’s not a conversation starter. In fact, it is the opposite of a conversation starter. It is conversation repellant.