— Feminist talk at Students For Liberty’s 2013 Austin Regional Conference and why feminism is not outdated (via cuntcastle)
RASHIDA: I wouldn’t trade my family for anything. My mother shocked her Jewish parents by marrying out of her religion and race. And my father: growing up poor and black, buckling the odds and becoming so successful, having the attitude of “I love this woman! We’re going to have babies and to hell with anyone who doesn’t like it!”
KIDADA: We had a sweet, encapsulated family. We were our own little world. But there’s the warmth of love inside a family, and then there’s the outside world. When I was born in 1974, there were almost no other biracial families–or black families–in our neighborhood. I was brown-skinned with short, curly hair. Mommy would take me out in my stroller and people would say, “What a beautiful baby…whose is it?” Rashida came along in 1976. She had straight hair and lighter skin. My eyes were brown; hers were green. IN preschool, our mother enrolled us in the Buckley School, an exclusive private school. It was almost all white.
RASHIDA: In reaction to all that differentess, Kidada tried hard to define herself as a unique person by becoming a real tomboy.
KIDADA: While Rashida wore girly dresses, I loved my Mr. T dolls and my Jaws T-shirt. But seeing the straight hair like the other girls had, like my sister had…I felt: “It’s not fair! I want that hair!”
PEGGY: I was the besotted mother of two beautiful daughters I’d had with the man I loved–I saw Kidada through those eyes. I thought she had the most gorgeous hair–those curly, curly ringlets. I still think so!
KIDADA: One day a little blond classmate just out and called me “Chocolate bar.” I shot back: “Vanilla!”
QUINCY: I felt deeply for Kidada; I thought racism would be over by the eighties. My role was to put things in perspective for her, project optimism, imply that things were better than they’d been for me growing up on the south side of Chicago in the 1930s.
KIDADA: I had another hurdle as a kid: I was dyslexic. I was held back in second grade. I flunked algebra three times. The hair, the skin, the frustration with schoolwork: It was all part of the shake. I was a strong-willed, quirky child–mischievous.
RASHIDA: Kidada was cool. I was a dork. I had a serious case of worship for my big sister. She was so strong, so popular, so rebellious. Here’s the difference in our charisma: When I was 8 and Kidada was 10, we tried to get invited into the audience of our favorite TV shows. Mine was Not Necessarily the News, a mock news show, and hers was Punky Brewster, about a spunky orphan. I went by the book, writing a fan letter–and I got back a form letter. Kidada called the show, used her charm, wouldn’t take no for an answer. Within a week she was invited to the set!
KIDADA: I was kicked out of Buckley in second grade for behavior problems. I didn’t want my mother to come to my new school. If kids saw her, it would be: “your mom’s white!” I told Mom she couldn’t pick me up; she had to wait down the street in her car. Did Rashida have that problem? No! She passed for white.
RASHIDA: “Passed”?! I had no control over how I looked. This is my natural hair, these are my natural eyes! I’ve never tried to be anything that I’m not. Today I feel guilty, knowing that because of the way our genes tumbled out, Kidada had to go through pain I didn’t have to endure. Loving her so much, I’m sad that I’ll never share that experience with her.
KIDADA: Let me make this clear: My feelings about my looks were never “in comparison to” Rashida. It was the white girls in class that I compared myself to. Racial issues didn’t exist at home. Our parents weren’t black and white; they were Mommy and Daddy.
RASHIDA: But it was different with our grandparents. Our dad’s father died before we were born. We didn’t see our dad’s mother often. I felt comfortable with Mommy’s parents, who’d come to love my dad like a son. Kidada wasn’t so comfortable with them. I felt Jewish; Kidada didn’t.
KIDADA: I knew Mommy’s parents were upset at first when she married a black man, and though they did the best they could, I picked up on what I thought was their subtle disapproval of me. Mommy says they loved me, but I felt estranged from them.
While Rashida stayed and excelled at Buckley, Kidada bumped from school to school; she got expelled from 10 in all because of behavior problems, which turned out to be related to her dyslexia.
KIDADA: We had a nanny, Anna, from El Salvador. I couldn’t get away with stuff with her. Mommy knew Anna could give her the backup she needed in the discipline department because she was my color. Anna was my “ethnic mama.”
PEGGY: Kidada never wanted to be white. She spoke with a little…twist in her language. She had ‘tude. Rashida spoke more primly, and her identity touched all bases. She’d announce, “I’m going to be the first female, black, Jewish president of the U.S.!”
KIDADA: When I was 11, a white girlfriend and I were going to meet up with these boys she knew. I’d told her, because I wanted to be accepted, “Tell them I’m tan.” When we met them, the one she was setting me up with said, “You didn’t tell me she was black.” That’s When I started defining myself as black, period. Why fight it? Everyone wanted to put me in a box. On passports, at doctor’s offices, when I changed schools, there were boxes to check: Caucasian, Black, Hispanic, Asian. I don’t mean any dishonor to my mother–who is the most wonderful mother in the world, and we are so alike–but: I am black. Rashida answers questions about “what” she is differently. She uses all the adjectives: black, white, Jewish.
RASHIDA: Yes, I do. And I get: “But you look so white!” “You’re not black!” I want to say: “Do you know how hurtful that is to somebody who identifies so strongly with half of who she is?” Still, that’s not as bad as when people don’t know. A year ago a taxi driver said to me, That Jennifer Lopez is a beautiful woman. Thank God she left that disgusting black man, Puffy.” I said, “I’m black.” He tried to smooth it over. IF you’re obviously black, white people watch their tongues, but with me they think they can say anything. When people don’t know “what” you are, you get your heart broken daily.
KIDADA: Rashida has it harder than I do: She can feel rejection from both parties.
RASHIDA: When I audition for white roles, I’m told I’m “too exotic.” When I go up for black roles, I’m told I’m “too light.” I’ve lost a lot of jobs, looking the way I do.
PEGGY: As Kidada grew older, it became clear that she wouldn’t be comfortable unless she was around kids who looked more like her. So I searched for a private school that had a good proportion of black students, and when she was 12, I found one.
KIDADA: That changed everything. I’d go to my black girlfriends’ houses and–I wanted their life! I lived in a gated house in a gated neighborhood, where playdates were: “My security will call your security.” Going to my black friends’ houses, I saw a world that was warm and real, where families sat down for dinner together. At our house, Rashida and I often ate dinner on trays, watching TV in Anna’s room, because our dada was composing and performing at night and Mom sat in on his sessions.
RASHIDA: But any family, from any background, can have that coziness too.
KIDADA: I’m sure that’s true, but I experienced all that heart and soul in black families. I started putting pressure on Mommy to let me go to a mostly black public school. I was on her and on her and on her. I wouldn’t let up until she said yes.
PEGGY: So one day when Kidada was 14, we drove to Fairfax High, where I gave a fake address and enrolled her.
KIDADA: All those kids! A deejay in the quad at lunch! Bus passes! All those cute black boys; no offense, but I thought white boys were boring. I fit in right away; the kids had my outgoing vibe. My skin and hair had been inconveniences at my other schools–I could never get those Madonna spiked bangs that all the white girls were wearing–but my girlfriends at Fairfax thought my skin was beautiful, and they loved to put their hands in my hair and braid it. The kids knew who my dad was an my stock went up. I felt secure. I was home.
RASHIDA: Our parents divorced when I was 10; Kidada went to live with Dad in his new house in Bel Air, and I moved with Mom to a house in Brentwood. Mom was very depressed after the divorce, and I made it my business to keep her company.
KIDADA: I wanted to live with Dad not because he was the black parent, but because he traveled. I could get away with more.
RASHIDA: At this time, anyone looking at Kidada and me would have seen two very different girls. I wore my navy blue jumper and crisp white blouse; K wore baggy Adidas sweatsuits and door-knocker earrings. My life was school, school, school. I’m with Bill Cosby: It’s every bit as black as it is white to be a nerd with a book in your hand.
KIDADA: The fact that Rashida was good at school while I was dyslexic intimidated me and pushed me more into my defiant role. I was ditching classes and going to clubs.
RASHIDA: About this time, Kidada was replacing me with younger girls from Fairfax who she could lead and be friends with.
KIDADA: They were my little sisters, as far as I was concerned.
RASHIDA: When I’d go to our dad’s house on weekends, eager to see Kidada, the new “little sisters” would be there. She’d be dressing them up like dolls. It hurt! I was jealous!
KIDADA: You felt that? I always thought you’d rejected me.
RASHIDA: Still, our love for the same music–Prince, Bobby Brown, Bell Biv DeVoe–would bring us together on weekends.
Awesome story. Great journalism.
im glad they interviewed them both, instead of just rashida. I definitely relate to this hard, esp to “IF you’re obviously black, white people watch their tongues, but with me they think they can say anything. When people don’t know “what” you are, you get your heart broken daily.”
“Passed”?! I had no control over how I looked. This is my natural hair, these are my natural eyes! I’ve never tried to be anything that I’m not. Today I feel guilty, knowing that because of the way our genes tumbled out, Kidada had to go through pain I didn’t have to endure. Loving her so much, I’m sad that I’ll never share that experience with her.”
jfc so many feels while reading this. most of this made me cry.
I know this is long but I definitely relate to this. Super glad they interviewed them both as well. I don’t pass for white but my sister does and we both very strongly identify as Latina. I really like how Rashida touched on having half of her identity erased in a lot of instances.
THIS. Rashida, Kidada, Rebecca Walker, and me. Any other biracial Jews out there?
Growing up I looked more like a Kidada, but I definitely had an experience closer to Rashida’s, especially when I started private school.
This is so cool. Also, Rashida looks way darker in this picture than on all TV shows. Lighting/whitening?
This is long, but worth the read.
so worth the read. i’m not mixed, but i have very light skin for being fully black, and i understand 100% how it feels.
Rahila Gupta, On Sex-selective Abortion, We Must Not Make a Fetish of Choice, in The Guardian.
FJP: Last year, Telegraph accompanied a woman from the UK who was getting an abortion based on the fact that her baby was female. This incident sparked investigations by government officials who discovered that birth rates of males and females differ based upon location and culture, meaning that patriarchal society still has an effect on the desired sex of children.
Gupta questions whether it’s possible to be pro-choice and a feminist when gender-selective abortions are going on. She says: “While most people agree that getting rid of female foetuses is abhorrent, some argue that it is a price worth paying to preserve the purity of the concept of choice.”
Gupta explains that it’s difficult to prevent women from aborting children based on gender bias because women can always provide a wealth of other reasons for termination. However, she suggests that hiding the sex of the child from the mother could be the way to end gender-selective abortion.
Golshifteh Farahani on the red carpet during the Closing Ceremony of the 70th Venice International Film Festival, September 7, 2013.
Didn’t know who this Iranian actress was, so I just googled her. 1. what a beautiful dress! And photo. And woman.
I found this entry on her Wikipedia page interesting:
Many of her roles she was picked to play whilst in Iran dealt with the day to day struggles of an independent Iranian Woman (be it a single-mother raising a disabled child on her own in Mim Mesleh Mudar; a wife dealing with a drug addict husband in Santoori; or a woman trying to make it as a motorcycle trick rider in the Islamic Republic in Setareh) a considerable number of her roles, help present an image of a strong, Intelligent woman.
Conversely, however most of the movie roles she has been type cast to play so far in Western cinema present her as a woman dependent on her male counterparts. She has so far played the role of the damsel in distress (Body of Lies), or the submissive wife (There Be Dragons) in contradiction to the strong feminist heroine character types she was picked to play on the big screen of Iranian cinema.
Some people have as such said her actions (both in posing nude and in playing such anti-feminist characters in Western films) have been detrimental for women’s rights in Iran, arguing that in her attempts to gain notoriety in the West she has exploited her position as a famous Iranian actress. Meanwhile, others applaud her for being an artist who is trying to fight conservatism in the Islamic Republic.
It’s pretty shitty (though not unexpectated) that there would be such backlash against a woman deciding to do what she wants with her body. But, for myself, as a woman coming from a Muslim background, I can relate to some amount of frustration with her new position.
Here is women who was representing women and Muslim voices in a way that is typically unseen in the Orientalist mindset of the West — and now here is a women who has become unrelatable to many average Iranians. It’s not the nudity itself, its the idea that she has given in to “Western pressures” to be modern and edgy and sexy and given in to “Western visions” of the East — a woman submissive and in need of saving.
This doesn’t read as a young woman breaking free of the chains of an oppressive society and expressing herself with body and art.
It reads of a young actress doing what she must to be relevant and edgy and make a stand… in a way that only serves to reinforce Western partriarchy.
That being said, she’s a grown ass woman, so she can do whatever she damn pleases.
Also, seems like she’s doing well for herself. I’m excited to see what’s in store for her.
A powerful traveling photo exhibition helps educate the world about the plight of women in Afghanistan. Related panel discussion at Asia Society New York this Thursday, October 3.
Read the full story here.
I wasn’t going to write this letter, but today i’ve been dodging phone calls from various newspapers who wished me to remark upon your having said inRolling Stoneyour “Wrecking Ball” video was designed to be similar to the one for “Nothing Compares” … So this is what I need to say … And it is said in the spirit of motherliness and with love.
I am extremely concerned for you that those around you have led you to believe, or encouraged you in your own belief, that it is in any way “cool” to be naked and licking sledgehammers in your videos. It is in fact the case that you will obscure your talent by allowing yourself to be pimped, whether it’s the music business or yourself doing the pimping.
Nothing but harm will come in the long run, from allowing yourself to be exploited, and it is absolutely NOT in ANY way an empowerment of yourself or any other young women, for you to send across the message that you are to be valued (even by you) more for your sexual appeal than your obvious talent.
I am happy to hear I am somewhat of a role model for you and I hope that because of that you will pay close attention to what I am telling you.
The music business doesn’t give a sh– about you, or any of us. They will prostitute you for all you are worth, and cleverly make you think its what YOU wanted.. and when you end up in rehab as a result of being prostituted, “they” will be sunning themselves on their yachts in Antigua, which they bought by selling your body and you will find yourself very alone.
None of the men oggling you give a sh– about you either, do not be fooled. Many’s the woman mistook lust for love. If they want you sexually that doesn’t mean they give a f— about you. All the more true when you unwittingly give the impression you don’t give much of a f— about yourself. And when you employ people who give the impression they don’t give much of a f— about you either. No one who cares about you could support your being pimped.. and that includes you yourself.
Yes, I’m suggesting you don’t care for yourself. That has to change. You ought be protected as a precious young lady by anyone in your employ and anyone around you, including you. This is a dangerous world. We don’t encourage our daughters to walk around naked in it because it makes them prey for animals and less than animals, a distressing majority of whom work in the music industry and its associated media.
You are worth more than your body or your sexual appeal. The world of showbiz doesn’t see things that way, they like things to be seen the other way, whether they are magazines who want you on their cover, or whatever.. Don’t be under any illusions.. ALL of them want you because they’re making money off your youth and your beauty.. which they could not do except for the fact your youth makes you blind to the evils of show business. If you have an innocent heart you can’t recognise those who do not.
I repeat, you have enough talent that you don’t need to let the music business make a prostitute of you. You shouldn’t let them make a fool of you either. Don’t think for a moment that any of them give a flying f— about you. They’re there for the money.. we’re there for the music. It has always been that way and it will always be that way. The sooner a young lady gets to know that, the sooner she can be REALLY in control.
You also said inRolling Stonethat your look is based on mine. The look I chose, I chose on purpose at a time when my record company were encouraging me to do what you have done. I felt I would rather be judged on my talent and not my looks. I am happy that I made that choice, not least because I do not find myself on the proverbial rag heap now that I am almost 47 yrs of age.. which unfortunately many female artists who have based their image around their sexuality, end up on when they reach middle age.
Real empowerment of yourself as a woman would be to in future refuse to exploit your body or your sexuality in order for men to make money from you. I needn’t even ask the question.. I’ve been in the business long enough to know that men are making more money than you are from you getting naked. It’s really not at all cool. And it’s sending dangerous signals to other young women. Please in future say no when you are asked to prostitute yourself. Your body is for you and your boyfriend. It isn’t for every spunk-spewing dirtbag on the net, or every greedy record company executive to buy his mistresses diamonds with.
As for the shedding of the Hannah Montana image.. whoever is telling you getting naked is the way to do that does absolutely NOT respect your talent, or you as a young lady. Your records are good enough for you not to need any shedding of Hannah Montana. She’s waaaaaaay gone by now.. Not because you got naked but because you make great records.
Whether we like it or not, us females in the industry are role models and as such we have to be extremely careful what messages we send to other women. The message you keep sending is that it’s somehow cool to be prostituted.. it’s so not cool Miley.. it’s dangerous. Women are to be valued for so much more than their sexuality. we aren’t merely objects of desire. I would be encouraging you to send healthier messages to your peers.. that they and you are worth more than what is currently going on in your career. Kindly fire any motherf—er who hasn’t expressed alarm, because they don’t care about you.
— Sinead O’Connor
I like this. Can we not go on a “stop slut shaming Miley!” bent and recognize that Sinead O’Connor is speaking truth.
Yes, slut-shaming Miley should totally stop, and Sinead pinpoints exactly who is to blame in her letter here. (I really hope this is real).
they’ll ask it differently, usually, but that’s what they mean.
And I always tell them the story of my friend who came over and hung out in my room doing absolutely nothing until 3am, who told me that he thought the meaning of life was procreation and about how the last hookup he had started like this, and then left. He came over another night and said, “We should have sex,” but said it half-jokingly and then laughed, and I just thought he was kidding, both times.
That’s what being bullied for my weight did to me. It made me believe so deeply that I was undesirable that someone outright expressing desire for me didn’t register as anything other than a joke.
(It still usually doesn’t. I’m working on that.)
Like I wrote before, some guys don’t hear themselves talk. And we do. You have to put it on paper so they can read just how stupid they sound in the streets.
By Archana A. Pathak
… If we look at who made it to the top 10 and the top five, on the surface we do see a bouquet of representative America – where women of all colors, creeds, walks of life can and do represent this fine nation. We have Asian-Americans, an African-American woman, white women; military women, Southern, Northern, Western, Midwestern, Southwestern women; we have blondes, brunettes, redheads. It looks different, and yet it’s not quite as different as we might think. Much like a Benetton advertisement, the women more or less fall into cookie cutter representations of femininity, body type, ability, and ethnicity. While Nina’s platform is diversity, she still fits a very specific box in terms of gender, sexuality, and Indianness. Indeed, she embodies the safest and most dangerous form of diversity – that which is palatable to the dominant mainstream.
… I am also cautious when “diversity” is presented through Asian Brown bodies. While we celebrate our recognition, we must simultaneously ask, in celebrating us, who gets put to the side? Which bodies are being denied access, representation? Additionally, the celebration of Indianness is fraught with echoes of a colonial memory. An exotic, spiritual culture that invokes ancient cosmic forces and a nostalgia of exquisite femininity (read: submissive, subtly sexual, silent), its celebration can and is often a powerful tool of empire. The question we really need to ask is, what parts of her Indianness does Nina get to put on display? To what extent and why? These questions and their answers tie directly into the model minority myth that remains pervasive in U.S. society (Bhatt, 2003). And that then ties directly to the ongoing agenda to divide and conquer by pitting Asianness/Brownness against Blackness/Latina-ness.
This is further exemplified through Said’s (1978) eloquent argument that diversity is a tool of empire. Nina embodies in many ways the pervasive and damaging discourse of how diversity is now cultural currency and brings with it a cache, particularly for liberal America. It’s cool to be “ethnic,” to have a story, a culture that one can “harken back to” as long as it’s dished out (literally in “ethnic” cuisine restaurants) in small, palatable doses that are altered enough to only hint at the spiciness of that life and to add a bit of flavor to the base of common Americanness. And this common Americanness gets read as bland, culture-less, non-ethnic (read: white).
There are two key issues here: the first is that the mainstream continues to define Indianness (or ethnic) only so far as to make themselves feel better about themselves, and the second is that in naming diversity, we’ve reinforced the white/non-white binary in which whiteness continues to hold the place of the mythical norm (hooks, 2000). Even Nina’s call for diversity fits the irony of how she then upholds empire. Her dance is beautiful but a loose, limited amalgam of varying traditional and modern styles. While mixing styles is no sin (with respect to all the classical Indian dance teachers out there), when it is done and then presented as “Indianness,” it only serves to entertain and awe, not engage or share a cultural reality. Indeed, some comments to her dance posted on YouTube stated, “Don’t know if she’s any good or if it’s right, but it’s cool.” The actual dance and its art are irrelevant here. Blind acceptance is as racist as blind rejection. Here we see the ways in which seeking legitimacy in the dominant mainstream is encouraged through the prevalent practices of cultural consumption. We often mistake being spectacle as being understood/accepted. It is no wonder, given the powerful ways in which cultural appropriation and consumption are tied to consumerist practices. Such moves bring “Americans” into our communities to spend money; we can find our needs (foods, clothing, accessories) in mainstream locations.
rape. Ladies, it’s your fault.
“Where was this film made?” our translator Ece whispered. “The accent is strange…”
As the opening scene of In the Morning progressed, the serious subject matter of honor killing and rape was met with a couple of stifled laughs at the accent of the “Turkish” people in the film. We were intrigued.
On the first day of our conference at the Göztepe Campus of Marmara University (on the Asian side of Istanbul), we screened the only two short films we have from Turkey: In the Morning and Saturday Mothers of Turkey. It happens that Turkish nationals made neither film– an important detail we learned (only in hindsight) was worth mentioning before showing the films. After the films were presented and the speakers gave their presentations, we received some challenging questions and responses from the audience. One that inspired the most discussion – even amongst those of us who stuck around after the conference was over – was a critique from a journalist in attendance.
From beneath her headscarf, her eyes appeared serious; she spoke pointedly about how, as Turks, they are aware of the issues, of honor killings – but where were the voices of the women? Personally, she had come to hear something different from an organization called Women’s Voices Now. She expected to hear from the women themselves, and not be presented with films regarding the issues facing women that are already part of the Turkish discourse on women’s rights issues.
In the Morning, a film based on the 2003 murder of a young woman of Turkey who, after being raped, became pregnant and whose family delegated her younger brother to kill her to restore the family’s honor, truly does not focus on the voice of the murdered girl. Rather, it mostly tells the story of those who decided her fate – her male relatives. We immediately understood the journalist’s point. Again, she emphasized, she attended the conference to hear the voices of women, the issues she already knew. The journalist found the film lacking in complexity. Professors and audience members seemed to agree. So what was the point of presenting the film, indeed?
Yet, here was a short movie that won nine film festival awards, had screenings before members of the U.S. Congress and again before members of the United Nations Development Fund for Women (UNIFEM).
In fact, film critics in the West raved:
“Themes of horror and revenge have rarely been as brilliantly explored…a bold and important film.”
~ Daniel Wilbe, Film Threat
“COMPELLING … illustrates the issue of sexual assault without engaging in hyperbolic melodrama. … addresses critical issues that intersect with sexual assault including cultural values, sexism, family norms, the role of governments, and how the culture of violence facilitates sexual violence… an excellent educational tool. I recommend it without hesitation.”
~ Abigail Sims, Los Angeles Commission on Assaults Against Women
“A compelling short film that demonstrates the power of short films to inform us about the plight of women around the world.”
~ Lois Vossen, Independent Lens Series, Producer & Co-curator
But, was this perhaps the first time such an acclaimed film had been screened in front of an audience of men and women of Turkey – the very people the film is supposed to represent?
The conflicting responses raised a lot of questions and fostered deep and difficult discussion – a valuable learning experience for us. How were the perspectives of our audience members and viewers in the States so different? How did this film, yes, produced in the U.S., but one that won so much recognition, not even have a recognizable Turkish accent to a Turkish audience? Why did some of the Turkish women feel that this film, which told the true story of a victim in the country, not accurately represent them, though they readily say honor killings are a continuing reality faced by women in Turkey?
As a young organization, we have much to learn from both our film submissions and the people and societies they aim to portray. As a women’s rights organization striving to accurately represent women’s voices in Muslim-majority societies, and not just what we think those voices are, or need them to be to fulfill our analysis of the Muslim World, the global tour is the most substantial way that we can get to the bottom of the disconnect. Spending a week in Turkey affords us the opportunity to have meaningful and significant exchanges with the women (and the men) of this country in which, together, we break down complex feelings, identities, perceptions, assumptions, reactions, and stereotypes about each other. Women’s voices in Muslim-majority societies - really DO differ from place to place. Acknowledging, understanding, and integrating these differences into the operations and presentations of Women’s Voices Now is absolutely crucial to our success. If we are sincerely trying to support the empowerment of women whose voices speak out for a more just, peaceful, and pleasant world for all races, religions, colors, and creeds, then we have to be honest in our evaluation of our work and really listen to what the women we meet are saying, and vice versa. In those moments of true understanding through open and honest sharing, we get a glimpse of better days to come and hope our counterparts in Turkey feel the same way too.
A missed connection with a street harasser:
Let me make this abundantly clear, to you and to the other men reading this: when you comment on a woman’s appearance, you are not doing it for her. You are doing it for you. It’s not some great way to make a woman feel sexy and appreciated. It’s not flattery, even if you mean for it to be. The only thing it is is a great way for you to create a shitty power dynamic, by which you have announced yourself as the arbiter of her value, and you’ve deemed her fuckable, and she is supposed to be happy or impressed by that.”
- Honestly -- does anyone really think that Malala Yousafzai gives a flying fuck that she didn't win the Nobel Peace Prize which yes, she deserved?...
- All these photos of models, skinny ass white people, bone straight hair
Women kill themselves