Here I am!

I am a white, working-class, female, able-bodied waitress from New York. I have two BA's in Gender and Women's Studies and Political Psychology. I have had the privilege to travel all over the world from India to Canada. Some inspiration came to me recently to start a blog about my next adventure in Ecuador, so here it is!! Enjoy!

Thursday, October 11, 2012

National Coming Out Day

Haaaaay, today is "National Coming Out Day." So for all of you that already came out this year, kudos you early bird!

National Coming Out Day is an act of solidarity in the GLBT community to show that those who are "in" are not alone and have the support of their fellow "out-ers." But when I really think about it, it seems like a lot of pressure on the "in-ers." What if they are not ready to come "out"? Can we blame them, it is pretty damn scary "out" there.

I have always maintained the frame of mind that it is nobody's business who I am interested in, so in that sense this day leaves a bad taste in my mouth. What would happen if a heterosexual person sat their friends and family down, and with that years-of-anguishing-over-this-moment look in her/his eye says "loved ones, I can't hold it in any longer. I am sick of hiding. Mom. Dad. I am heterosexual." Could you imagine that reaction?? Most likely it would be followed by laughter and a few thank-god-that-wasn't-anything-serious look exchanges. I look forward to the day when someone come's "out" and nobody bats an eye and responds with a resounding "SO WHAT!"

The "in" vs. "out" dynamic never really sat well with me either. Where did that phrase come from, and how did I end up in this metaphorical closet? If I step out, am I "out" to everyone or can I step back "in" if I want?    Can I leave my right foot in, take my right foot out, put my right foot in and then shake it all about? This dynamic, in my opinion, stresses out the "in" crowd. It's like I haven't reached my full potential gay until I have proclaimed it to the world. The hetero's have the privilege of never being "in" since everyone "just knows", why does the GLBT community have to step out and be put into that vulnerable and often uncomfortable position when it is nunya' (nunya goddamn business!).

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

Not for the faint of heart...

Dear Men,

It's been a while since I have written you and I hope that this letter does find you well, but I have a few things I need to tell you. Please don't take this personally- take it as a chance to grow and understand your fellow woman.

1:
If you are not my family/boyfriend/best friend, don't put your hands on me. If I am blocking your way, you do not have to put your hands on my hips and move me, I promise you I will move if you just say "excuse me." Try it, words are magical. If we are standing next to each other, do not put your arm around my shoulders/waist. Same goes if we are looking at a book/computer screen/whatever. We can both look just as easily without you touching me. Don't kiss me on the cheek, hug me longer than you KNOW you should, poke me, and DON'T FUCKING TICKLE ME.

ALL OF THIS is unwanted physical contact, and I am sure that I am not the only woman who has felt this (can I get an "A'men?") so next time that you go to put your hands on a woman that is not your family/girlfriend/best friend, please just don't. Don't even ask. When you put your hands on me, you first of all put me in an awkward situation of removing your hands, which I will only do nicely ONE TIME, MAYBE. You do it again and I will bite your finger off, I'm serious. Second, it is a blatant way of asserting your power and dominance over me. Like you deserve to walk around putting your hands on whatever lady part you want and we are just supposed to grin and giggle like we enjoy it. I am not a walking bop-it/Simon/scratch-and-sniff/arm-rest. It is ALL subliminally sexual and I DON'T LIKE IT.

2:
Been through this before but I am going there again. If I am walking on the street to work/to the gym/with my dog/to my feminazi meeting/whatever, don't talk to me if I don't know you. Don't say "hi," don't say "good morning," don't tell me to "smile," don't call me "sexy/beautiful/bitch/baby," nothing. Unless you say hello to every stranger walking by, I am going to assume that you are targeting me and react accordingly, which will be with pepper spray or a taser. Again, if you touch me I will bite your finger off. I do not walk down the street for your entertainment.

As I said before all of this is just asserting your power over me and I DON'T LIKE IT. I don't want to talk to strangers everywhere I go, and I don't owe you a response. These men act like they are not only worthy of my time, but DESERVING. Like I am the "bitch" if I don't stop and respond to you. Dude, you are a stranger and I don't talk to strangers on the street- it's what my mom taught me my entire life. If I don't know you and you begin talking to me while I am alone on the street I am going to consider you a dangerous threat to my well-being and cannot be held responsible for my actions.

3:
You will never know what is like to be a woman. Don't say that you do, that you can imagine, that it's not so bad, or that things are much better than they were. You make yourself sound like an uneducated jerk-off. If you want to have an idea of what it is like, shadow me for a week and MAYBE then you will get a small glimpse. You will begin to realize that almost every interaction with men is turned into some kind of flirtatious sexual innuendo. You will  feel  see the terror and embarrassment that I feel walking the streets alone, for example crossing a construction site. After all of that you will still have no idea. I know a total of TWO men who I feel really sympathize and understand me as a woman, and they are both gay. I am pretty sure that they will also testify that you, if you are a hetero man, will never understand. This isn't to knock you from trying though, because I really do sincerely appreciate those men who try and I consider them my allies.

4:
While I am on this topic, what is it with construction workers? Do they inhale too much toxic gases that for some reason almost ALL of them think it is okay to harass all passing women? Maybe it's the helmet that makes them think they have wizard powers to lure women in with their crude and offensive remarks...

This list could go on longer, but I will end here for fear of offending the delicate male egos that have taken centuries to develop. If anything has sunk in here, I hope that it is number 1 & 2 since this is what affects me every day, and most women are too shy to say anything. Try and read body language and be a little less emotionally numb than your kind has so famously become. It really is easy to tell when a woman is uncomfortable (shoulders go up, avoids eye contact, talks a bit lower and faster, fiddles with hands, etc), just step out of yourselves for a minute and read the signs. No matter what I am wearing, whether it is a track suit or a mini-skirt, I should always be treated with respect. I am never asking for "it." I don't want "it," I don't like "it," and I will not stand for "it."

I remember one of my good friends (my aforementioned ally) told me a story...he was walking home from classes one night and found himself walking behind a woman. As they were both walking she kept glancing behind her whilst picking up her pace and clutching her bag to her side. After a few minutes she was almost in an all-out run. Now, anyone who knows this man will testify that he is the most kindest guy in the world and would NEVER hurt anyone intentionally, so this was a traumatizing experience for him. That woman saw him as a predator, he scared her and he couldn't do anything about it. He scared her because he is a man. This story is the perfect example of the societal power dynamic we have created here and it can be changed. It starts with men taking an active role in changing their approach, as well as women taking an active role and setting boundaries (will do my next post on my good friend Erik Kondo's concept of "Progressive Boundary Setting" http://progressiveboundarysetting.blogspot.com/.


Monday, September 17, 2012

Baseball

There is that stupid saying that I always hate hearing, ¨you never know what you got till it´s gone.¨ I always knew that I liked baseball. I like playing it, I like watching it, I like coaching... why didn´t it ever occur to me that I would miss it so much? It was so routine in my lifestyle, so easy. Baseball, I am so sorry I took you for granted and I promise I will never do it again. If I ever get the chance to go to a game, I will never leave after the 7th inning stretch just to beat the traffic. I will time my pee breaks for commercials and changes between innings. I will always keep the strike-ball count. I will cheer as loud as I can when we (Yankees, duh) get a hit, score, steal a base, or just generally make an awesome play.

It´s been so long, it doesn´t even look right when I spell it out. Baseball, that is how you spell it, right? It is dark times here...

Every day the players sacrifice their bodies for the ball, jumping over fences, diving face-first into the turf, sliding into home base. I miss the scratches and bruises. I miss hitting the ball and that feeling when you see it go flying over the outfielders head. I miss getting hit by the ball. I miss that adrenaline rush when you are on first base and given the sign to steal second, when the catcher drops the ball and you are on 3rd and have less than a second to decide ¨do I go for it, can I make it?¨ I miss watching the relief pitcher warming up and judging her curve-balls. I miss grabbing my glove and running out to the field and tossing around the diamond with my teammates.

 Baseball/softball friends, Amurricans, I know you know what I am talking about. Ecuadorian friends, you don´t know what I am talking about (not most of you), so please help me start a team here. I need it, my body is craving it. Every time that I throw the tennis ball to my dogs I can´t help but think ¨damn, my throw has gotten WEAK.¨ And even with my weak, out-of-practice arm, I STILL can throw farther than my boyfriend.