Strong alone, fearless together

Anyone who insists on using archaic old gender roles or sentiments such as "weaker sex" has obviously never met me or any of the women I associate with. (*Note to my boys, this article is about female activists, but I like y'all too.*)

And anyone who thinks feminism is dead will have a lot to learn.

Meet the feminists of today. We're alpha females, and we are about as weak and fragile as steel. Strong alone, fearless together, we know what we want and stop at nothing to get it. Just take a look at any of the Fem Maj events of this year. Or take a gander at a Take Back The Night march (read my post "Let me Empower You" for a full account). Weaker sex, my ass. With all this evidence to the contrary, it's still a wonder that anyone would cling to those outdated gender norms. And why? Cause we happen to be the owners of two X chromosomes or ovaries? Give me a break!

Miss Landmine

Things just keep getting stranger and stranger.

Fast on the heels of my twin fashion blogs comes another one about standards of beauty and the like. Only this one isn't about what someone is wearing but rather about empowerment versus exploitation.

I learned about this website and project in my Gender/Women's Studies class, and I'm really bamboozled by it. I don't know if it is empowering or just plain exploitative. It's called Miss Landmine (http://www.miss-landmine.org), and it's a beauty pageant for women in war-torn countries who have had their limbs blown off by landmines. The goal, as stated on its website, is to raise awareness about landmines and their dangers and to celebrate different kinds of beauty. The women get to make themselves all gussied up, and the winner gets a golden prosthetic as a prize.

While I am totally for promoting different kinds of beauty (including of bodies that are considered "incomplete" or "damaged" by society), I'm not sure I can entirely support the idea of a beauty contest. In all fairness, I will say that I do like the slogan, "Everyone has a right to be beautiful," and that helping the amputee women to feel more confident in what they look like and do is a good thing. The confidence reflected in the smiles and poise of these women is really stunning. However, I'm still not entirely sold on the idea. The symbol for the landmine ladies is a "female" bathroom sign that is missing a leg, and the website has a theme song and opens with either a cartoon sunrise or explosion (can't tell which it is).

The prize is totally off the mark too. As members of a more privileged society (I believe the contest is originally from European folks), they should be focusing on ways to help all the women, as opposed to giving a gold prosthetic as a prize to the most attractive of the bunch. What about regular prosthetics for all the women who need them? Or rehabilitation? Or physical/occupational therapy so they can find jobs and live with fewer limitations? I mean, sure, bringing attention to disability awareness is certainly a good thing, but this seems to make a spectacle of a condition that's already unfortunate enough on its own. It sensationalizes it by using societally attractive women to be the "faces" of the effects of mines. What about the elderly indivduals who've had this happen? Or the men? Or the kids? Or (shock*gasp) the average-looking folks who've stepped on a landmine? I can assure you that they are also affected by mines.

It's a cause that's laudable, and maybe they need any means necessary to bring about awareness of mines and disability. I'm just not sure a beauty pageant is the way to do it.

Good Eats in Chambana!

Here is a shameless revelstyle promotion, but here goes:

Check out the Red Herring Vegetarian Restaurant!

All entrees are $5 max, and they have un-freakin'-believable coffee for a dollar. They also have good hot treats for cold days coming up.

Also...for the regulars, the Herring is in danger of closing if they don't get more business. So don't let this fish go belly-up and try it out sometime. I've been there a ton of times, and they never disappoint. I'm not vegetarian or vegan, but it's good stuff (makes me consider going veg at times!). It's in the Channing Murray Foundation on Oregon Street in Urbana. And they have really funky painted walls and bathrooms too. So check it out!

Shirts, shoes, and the shield laws

And now ANOTHER ridiculous fashion article for you!

Apparently that love-a-ly (note my sarcasm) rag Men's Health has an article called "You Might be Dressed for Sex and Not even Know it." Hmmm....I could've sworn people knew when they wanted someone, as opposed to a hookup just happening all out of the blue and all. When someone tells you, "It just happened," well, it sounds just as pathetic no matter who says it. That article's title is pretty dumb, as it sounds like a really creepy rape myth or something like that (ever hear of the shield laws, that said that what you wear is not a reason for people to attack you? If I could hug the shield laws, I so would).

But take a gander at these examples of what women could be wearing and the messages they "are sending:" (This is not their exact wording but rather my interpretation of it.)

A belted dress or skirt
I'm totally old-fashioned and ladylike, and I don't mind having you make all the decisions for me or support what you think I should do. I'd be more than happy to do your bidding as long as you wore the pants and won the bread and brought home the bacon in this relationship.

A soft, snug sweater
I'm cute and cuddly and am totally up for you talking to me like I'm two years old. After all, I need a big strong man to put me in my place, and hopefully you're up for the job.

High heels
Hey you! Yes, you! Over there! I'm totally screaming for attention without saying a word. And of course, my shoes have to do the talking for me because I am in so much blistering pain that I can't possibly walk over to talk to you myself.

Something red
I'm a dirty little girl who just wants attention. It doesn't matter who it's from. After all, aren't guys like bulls, attracted to the color red?

Revealing v-neck
Don't blame me, blame my skanky ovaries. When it's that time of the month, I'm supposed to show off some more. Lucky you, huh?

A top that reveals a bra strap
I'm such a clever little girl that I'm putting subliminal messages into your head. You can see my bra? Good, now try and imagine what I look like in it...and with it off.

Now, how ri-damn-diculous is this? What about the real reasons why women wear these?

A belted dress or skirt
If I don't wear a belt with the skirt, it will fall down, and frankly, you didn't pay to see that show. Plus, this is a formal occaision and wearing anything else will look totally out of place.

A soft, snug sweater
It's, like, a million degrees below zero and if I don't wear a sweater, I will freeze to death.

High heels
I'm wearing the heels to go with that belted dress or skirt I mentioned earlier. It's more formal and looks more professional than if I had on athletic shoes or flip flops.

Something red
It's my favorite color, and it came in my size. Deal with it.

Revealing v-neck
The tank top I usually wear with it is in the wash right now. And I like the way it looks.

A top that reveals a bra strap
When I found this top in the clearance rack, I didn't know how badly it fit until I put it on. I'm burning it when I get home. No, actually, I'm spraying you with my pepper spray first because you're ogling me. Then I will take it home and burn it.

And what about men's clothes? Let's try and make a men's variation of it. After all, women have hormones and desires too. Are the men unknowingly dressed for a woman to have her way with them?

A polo shirt and khakis
I'm incredibly traditional and preppy and will make all the money and decisions for this family. You don't have to worry your pretty little head about voting or working or going outside the home. I've got that all taken care of.

Jeans so low that they reveal boxers
I'm such a clever little boy that I'm putting subliminal messages into your head. You can see my boxers? Good, now try and imagine what I look like in them...and with them off.

A tailored suit
I'm really hot. And damn it, I know I'm so hot that you've just got to look at me. And come over to me in your high heels. And come home with me...

Now doesn't this sound dumb....it does, as much as the women's one sounds! Seriously, are we as women considered to have so little agency or ability to express ourselves that apparantly have our clothes do the talking? And did you notice that up until my little post about the menfolk, that no one ever thinks a guy is sending a message that he might not be intending to. Heck, I'm pretty sure most guys don't even think this way or feel they have to justify what they have on.

That's sooo last century!

I was looking through a magazine to find some more jewelry ideas so I could make some new designs when I went home (need to bring some to 40 North to see if they'll include me in the Boneyard). And what did I find? Not too much in the way of jewelry (sadly!), but I did find a ridiculous fashion spread. Yes, I'm a fashionista, but this is beyond silly. It featured a ton of ladies in sweaters and softer clothes, but it also included these archaic quotes in there...

"It is assumed that the woman must wait motionless until she is wooed. That is how the spider waits for the fly." --George Bernard Shaw

"A woman can say more in a sigh than a man can say in a sermon." --Arnold Haultain

"I have a feeling that the phrase 'weaker sex' was created by some woman to disarm a man she was preparing to overwhelm." --Ogden Nash

Maybe I'm a little biased because about half my wardrobe is secondhand or revel stuff, and I could probably never afford the duds in the magazine. I don't know about you, though, but all of these quotes would more likely make me not want to buy these clothes. The thought of being motionless and sighing (as opposed to talking) kind of scares me. And did you notice that they're all by men?? It's so obvious that they're about how an idealized woman would act as opposed to how she actually does. Hmmmm.....

And if your policies aren't good enough, whip up a batch of cookies!

(Hey, I'm sorry if I'm boring you readers with tons of rantings in one night. The thing is, I'm writing a thirty-page paper about a rather disconcerting subject, and if I don't take little breaks from it, I may just be in serious need of Prozac tonight.)

With all the strides we as women have made, why is the "Presidential Cookie Contest" (which pits the wives of Presidential candidates against each other in baking cookies) still around?

I think it originated during the middle of the 20th century. But really, most first ladies are intelligent and successful enough in their own right. They don't need to re-assert their "values" by playing the happy housewife heroine. Plus, you are voting for the presidential candidate, not their spouses. If a woman were the nominee, would her husband have to make cookies? I don't know, but something in me tells me not.

I remember in fourth grade when Hillary Clinton and Elizabeth Dole were in that contest, and I remember feeling really put off by it. Both women, regardless of which side you're on, are very strong and intelligent and wildly successful (they're both Senators and have had long careers in government, regardless of their famous husbands). While I have nothing against knowing how to cook, I remember thinking that I would never want to bake anything to placate a bunch of sexist pigs (unless it was their dead brain matter). Sounds harsh, but I am not here for proving my womanhood in outdated ways. Plus, knowing me, I'd more likely be the candidate myself and my partner would have to make the cookies. Or the two of us would skip 'em all together, and once I won the election, we'd whip up a batch to celebrate (and NOT share them with any sexist pigs and have 'em all to ourselves!).

Three cheers for self-promotion!

She's a revel
She's a saint
She's the salt of the earth
AND SHE'S DANGEROUS.

She's a revel
Don't you know it?
Activistic feministic
In your face and rockin' widdit.

She lives the revolution,
The dawning of our lives.
She is so liberated.
I just can't deny it.
No I just can't deny.

She's a revel
She's a revel
She's a revel
And she's dangerous!

Forty years

As I stood out on the quad today, freezing my butt off to sell baked goods for the V-Day bake sale (proceeds go to the Vagina Monologues! woo for us!), I watched a very exciting and very powerful demonstration on the anniversary plaza of the Quad. The demonstration consisted of a march, speeches, and open mic to commemorate the 40th anniversary of African American Cultural Programming. The speakers were really good and talked about how it is everyone's responsibility to incorporate commitment to fairness into one's daily life. They talked about the cultural centers and the university's programs--and how far we've come since those early days.

One of the speakers brought up a story I had heard at a party and at my cluster, but it came back to me after hearing it. Apparantly, during the early 20th century, most of the dorms were all white. No minority student could live in them. This was a big surprise to me. I mean, I know racism exists and has a long and hideous history. But it was surprising to hear that many of the incoming students did not get a place to live when they came to the university. So where did they live? Many chose to stay with community members who let them board with them during the school year. So in areas like the downtown Urbana and Champaign neighborhoods, the students lived with the respective families who took them in. Some of the other students (who didn't like the rule but really couldn't do much to change it) would come over or bring food or something like that. After all, they probably would have still wanted to see their friends, even if they couldn't live in the same building.

While I would never ever want to return to an age like that, I often wonder about all the untold stories that happened in those neighborhoods. I don't really care so much about the white dorms (because that's pretty shameful) but it's the stories about the students living with the community members that sound cool. I know that if I were living during that time and had friends boarding with families, I'd probably go over and visit them or we could study/hang out together. And I would probably invite them over to see me. But I don't think I could stand a white dorm. I know that all three schools I've attended were predominantly white. However, I do hail from an area that has a large black and Latino population (whites make up about 30-40% of the population there, if that), so it's not like that is an issue for me.

Makes me glad this isn't forty years ago. I wonder if there are any written accounts of the students or their host families. I would love to read about them.

I still believe

Well, I've been out on the highway.
I've seen the damage done,
I've seen the pain and I've seen the hunger
In the eyes of everyone.
Yeah, I know that tomorrow
Will be cloudy and it's all in vain.
They say nothing's gonna make any difference.
It will just be more of the same.

But I feel something turning in my heart.
I feel something about to start.

Call me a fool,
Just call me blind.
I do believe this is our time.
I still have hopes.
I still have dreams.
Call me a fool,
But I still believe.

We've been out in the wasteland,
So many years goin' by.
There's been so much war, so much greed
And so many lies.

Cryin' out in the wilderness,
Hopin' for some relief,
Fearing like something is never gonna change--
It will just lead to sadness and grief.

Well, what's the point of living if you're just giving up?
I ain't drinking anymore from that hopeless cup.

Call me a fool,
Just call me blind.
I do believe this is our time.
I still have hopes.
I still have dreams.
Call me a fool,
But I still believe.

It all comes down to me and you.
The whole world's watching what we do.

I'm going down to my dorm lounge
Take a ballot in my hand
I know when I put it in the ballot box,
We will be one step closer to the promised land.

It's not coming tomorrow,
It's not coming today,
But I know when we all make our voice heard,
Some things will not be same.

I feel something turning within my heart.
I just know something is about to start.

Call me a fool,
Just call me blind.
I do believe this is our time.
I still have hopes.
I still have dreams.
Call me a fool,
But I still believe.

Call me a fool,
Just call me blind.
I do believe this is our time.
I still have hopes.
I still have dreams.
Call me a fool,
But I still believe.
--Bill Harley

Yes we can? Yes we DID!!!

With all apologies to The Second City

You know what day it is...

It's your right to vote!

So go out and vote!

Cause if you don't vote--

Alex WILL search you out and you WILL regret it!

Two more days...

In two days, it will be....

ELECTION DAY!!!

My message to you all is...

GET OUT AND VOTE!!!!

I am serious. I really don't care who you vote for, as long as you vote. This election has two candidates who couldn't be more different if they tried to be (although I sure saw a lot of Obamas and McCains out on Halloween night!), so it's much more than just a lesser-of-two-evils comparison. This is a really important, historic election, so you had better do your part and cast your ballot. Plus, if you don't vote and the results turn out like that Swing Vote movie where the election is undecided by one vote, I WILL personally hunt you down and never let you hear the end of it! And I am not kidding. So don't make me do that. For both of our sakes please.

You don't really wanna mess with me tonight.

I always found this situation to be ironic, yet highly annoying. Over the summer, I would get off of work at La Casa, feeling all fired up and ready to save the whole world. I'd have finished a database, a court watch, or some development work, and I would be feeling like I just rode into town with my sh*tkicking boots (or in this case, dress flats to fit the La Casa dress code) on, all ready to save the world. Then, as I'd walk to the local library where my sister was working, I'd invariably pass some construction site or other group of guys, and I'd hear the shouts of "Hey baby!" or whistles or some related bullshit like that. I've never found that stuff flattering, and usually I'd just ignore it or outright tell them to shut up if I got really annoyed. I usually don't have qualms about putting someone (particularly a man) in their place.

I love going out now that I'm back at school. I pride myself on always knowing someone whenever I go to an event, and I almost always have someone to go with. It's fun and the perfect way to spend my weekends. This October, I saw two big-name acts, kd lang and Amy Ray, and I picked up some of the basics of Latin dance at Distinto Y Diferente (Latin nights at Cowboy Monkey and Great Impasta--loads of fun with really energetic music). I'm totally loving the whole "see and be seen" aspect of it. Plus, who doesn't love salsa music??

My main issue is with the rest of the crowd, especially the guys there. Granted, I love my guy friends and many of the males I meet are perfectly okay. It's just a few that really bother me, but unfortunately they're so persistant and downright annoying that I have a hard time just ignoring them. I'm no prude--I am definitely as forward as they come, I'm rather frank about most things, and I'm usually pretty friendly to most. It's just...that too many people take it in the wrong direction or misinterpret it or think that I'll be more than happy to go home with them (when in reality, it's usually the contrary!). And that bothers me. What is it that makes those guys feel that they're so entitled? Is it the fact that I just happen to be the proud owner of two ovaries and just happen to be there? Is it because I am (shock*gasp) a woman who happens to have left her place for the night and ventured out into the big mean world? Is it because they can? What is it?

One time when I went dancing at the Canopy during a Zmick show (I like Zmick, especially when they dedicate a song to me! never knew I'd grow to love such a schmaltzy song like "Sexy Crazy"!). And like always, I was my sparkly self. (I can put any self-respecting glam rocker to shame with the amount of glitter I have and wear when I'm out. Maybe I was a female glam rocker in another life. Who knows? That's totally my musical and fashion guilty pleasure!) So I was dancing around to "Interrogation," and like always, it was really crowded. The guy behind me just grabs one of my hips to get me closer and to start grinding against me. Now that was just plain gross! I don't have anything against grinding, but to have someone you can't even see just grabbing you and rubbing his cock up against you like that is pretty darn creepy! So I snatched his hand and yanked it off my hip and then darted right up close to the stage where he wouldn't fit. Then at Latin night, I saw a guy who happens to run in many of the same circles as me (scenester, artistic, even knows some monologists and advocates). So I made some small talk with him, and within minutes he was trying to get me to go home with him. IN FRONT OF MY FRIENDS. This is a guy who (1) knows I have a boyfriend, (2) is twelve, twelve, TWELVE (12) years older than me, (3) turned out to be incredibly arrogant. Any of those is a bad thing on its own, but combine 'em and you've got a nasty case on your hands. I told him I was staying at the club with my friends (thanks guys!) and not going with him. So he backed off, but whenever I see him, he says "My offer still stands." What part of no don't you understand??? Do you really have so little self-control that you can't keep your mouth shut and stay away when someone is clearly trying to avoid you? One time, he came up to me when I was with two of my feminists, one male and one female, and they automatically flanked me. Like they could sense what a man-slut he was. But really, what makes him think he is so entitled?

Flirtation isn't the problem. I know I'm an extrovert and will talk to anyone and everyone. And I will dance with almost anyone. It just bothers me because it seems as though I just can't get them off of my case. I feel like I'm being punished, that I always have to be on my guard because (a) I'm female and (2) I am in a public place and not hidden away from view. I am both seen AND heard. I'm not going to stop going out. That's the last thing I would want to do. I suppose I could lay off the glitter and the revealing clothes and dress like a stereotypical frumpy female nerd and not go out. But then I wouldn't be happy. I'd be so miserable I wouldn't know what to do with myself! Scenesters need the scene! So what should change?

I have talked about this to some of my friends, but it seems as though we all can't figure out the reason for it. But they do have some funny remedies for it! My friend DoMonique suggested bringing a dagger along (and she has a Facebook group about it. She calls it a rape dagger if it is used on an attacker). But really, I need to be serious here. What is the issue? Is it me? Or is it the men? My parents tell me that if I know guys will be doing that, then maybe I should do something else that night. But I don't want to let other people make me afraid. I'm a lot stronger and tougher, and as we all know, I don't stay down and in easily. My roommate tells me to "be careful" when I'm in any group that might just include males. But I have a lot of guy friends, I see them almost every day, and I can assure you that most of them respect me and don't pull that shit on me. Then some folks just take it to the extreme! For one example, when I saw my MASV friends at a club once, I went over to talk to them. And right away, one of my other friends (you know who you are!) thought they were ALL hitting on me (it was really just an animated conversation) and rushed over to butt in ask me if I wanted to dance. While we were out on the floor, he was asking me, "So Alex, about those five guys who were hitting on you...It sure is a good thing I came in and bailed you out" to which I replied, "They weren't hitting on me. They're my MASV guys; I'm friends with them all. That's it, really." Of course it doesn't help that that acronym is pronounced like "massive," because then it sounded REALLY wrong! But they weren't hitting on me, and I certainly wouldn't want to alienate people who are my friends just because they own a Y chromosome and are friendly towards me.

But where do you draw the line? Does one avoid guys altogether and only spend time with one's female friends and/or partner? Or do the guys have to change? Or am I really too flamboyant and forward for my own good? Is it a combination of it all? And in that case, what's a revel grl to do? Personally, I think that while I can do my best to combat those actions and mindsets, the real change has to be with the men. Start thinking with your other head for once. Would you want your mother or sister to be grabbed or propositioned by some drunk college guys with bad B.O.? I'm not against being friendly or flirtatious or anything like that, but sometimes enough is...well, enough.