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In Mourning 

Twenty sixteen has been a nightmare of passings. We have been in shock over the loss of our artists, of our journalists, of our heroes. And then the Brexit. And then election. The fucking election.

After it was over and the results were called, I sprinted out of my comfortable existence, understanding in my skin that I was no longer safe. I was searching desperately for the thing I could to do to fix this. The country that had given me some relative sense of security (subject to exceptions based on gender and sexuality) was not the country in which I actually lived. America had revealed her true self to us.

People of color – specifically Black people – have been telling us about America for decades. They are the Scooby Squad unmasking the kyriarchical ghost to reveal that it was America all along, over and over and over again. And we White people have been fooled by the mask, over and over and over again.

The mask is off, and it ain’t going back on. Any belief that we had that the arc of the moral universe magically bent toward justice, instead of having to be forged by the fire and lives of multitudes who refuse to let it bend back, has to be set aside now.

My logic brain knows this.

And yet, I mourn.

I mourn the America that elected and reelected a Black man to the White House. I mourn the America that found its way to marriage equality. I mourn the America that looked ready to elect an imperfect White woman as president. I desperately mourn for the America of possibility, where our national ethos of all people being created equal, equal in rights and equal in dignity, was more than a pipe dream.

I believed in that America. I – a very imperfect White woman – lived and worked for that reality. And right now, all of those dreams and all that work has gone to shit.

America, my America, the one that I have been intensely privileged to have, is dead. She died on November 9, 2016. Something of me died with her, and my grief has been unfathomable.

I want to end this post with a call to action. With a rousing cry that we will not let America the Beautiful rest in peace, that we will revive her and fight for her and make her better than my naïve experience of her ever was.

I want to, and I’ll get there, but not now. My sprint has ended, and I have to catch my breath. One foot in front of the other, I am traveling down a road I cannot see and have no idea how or where it ends. It is dark and I am terrified, but we have miles to go before we sleep and stopping is not an option.

Right in the Balls

There’s nobody that has more respect for women than I do.

– Assclown 2016

Have you read 1984? Because I have – twice – and that’s some fucking doublespeak, if I’ve ever seen it. War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength. Assault is Respect.

If you haven’t seen the news, Donald Trump (aforementioned Assclown), in what I expect are the secret conversations among (most) men when they think they won’t get caught, admitted in 2005 that his approach to women can be boiled down to two words: sexual assault. Continue reading “Right in the Balls”

The Tragedy of the Commons’ Body: Daniel Tosh and Breastfeeding

By now, every one of you knows about the woman who called Daniel Tosh out on attempting to make light of rape who was then subsequently threatened with gang rape. You probably have already read your favorite point of view on how to react to this story in a few different blogs and other online content. If you are one of my readers, you probably come down on the side of “Daniel Tosh is a scrotum for this and other reasons and doesn’t have the vagina to tell an actual joke.” So what does that have to do with breastfeeding? Lots! Come with me on a journey into the wilds of feminism. Continue reading “The Tragedy of the Commons’ Body: Daniel Tosh and Breastfeeding”

Faith, Hope, and Love: Why I am Pro-Choice

In this polarized and polarizing world, the complexities of an identification or a political stance are lost through the need to dig in and position yourself against some other person or some other stance. As I’ve said or as you can tell, I am adamantly pro-choice. I want to take a moment to define what pro-choice means to me, because it may not complicated for me but it comes from a complex and personal space.

Pro-choice means more than just a commitment to keeping abortion safe, legal, and accessible for all women. Being pro-choice for me is a commitment to the health and well-being of women, children, families, and all people. It means I believe in people receiving comprehensive, age-appropriate sex education, in health class and throughout their lives. It means that I believe that injustices that do not seem related to abortion rights actually are, such as economic disparities and societal oppression of women. It means that as I think and re-think through my pro-choice stance, I come to the following words: faith, hope, and love. Continue reading “Faith, Hope, and Love: Why I am Pro-Choice”

Someone please draw this

Last night while watching MSNBC, one of the commentators was confused / angry that women had voted for Santorum. To this person, I would say: women don’t vote with their vaginas.

Continue reading “Someone please draw this”

I Care

Last night I watched The Rachel Maddow Show when I got home from class. The last half discussed the assassinations of abortion doctors in the 90s. Each had had wanted posters posted about them before they were shot.

And then we saw today’s wanted posters direct from North Carolina. Continue reading “I Care”

Protecting Women’s Health Globally

I just received an email from the International Women’s Health Coalition. Rep. Nita Lowey (D-NY) and Sen. Barbara Boxer (D-CA) have introduced legislation to permanently end the Global Gag Rule. Continue reading “Protecting Women’s Health Globally”

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