So You’ve Got a Y-Chromosome — Big Honkin’ Deal
For the record? This is how feminism happens, people.
I read stuff like that NPR article and I just get furious. Furious!
Dan always lovingly tells me that he’d like to see me drop in on a Saudi poker game and rip all the boys a new one. Well, he doesn’t always say that. Sometimes he says he’d like to put me in a time machine set for any American church prior to August 26, 1920 just to watch what happens.
He’s a real sweetie, that Dan! (He really is, but I love sarcasm almost as much as I love him.)
Anyway, as some of you may recall, a few years ago this one guy thought he could order me around and get away with treating me as something slightly less than human. He couldn’t, of course, but just the fact that he tried to control me was enough to send me into a near-psychotic rage. I mean, if you think I sound a touch like a defiant Feminazi right now for writing this post? You clearly aren’t prepared to see what happens when an asshat tries to tell me what to do.
So then I read stories like that one on NPR.org, and I think about these women in foreign countries being told they can’t drive or even show their chins. And then I wonder how they keep from losing their shit.
I would go mad. There’d be knives. And some screaming. And…
Look, I understand what hundreds of years of religious tradition can do to a people—to an extent—but I would so totally crack if that was my life.
So I’m going to drive home from work tonight and think of these ladies—the one who got ten lashes and the one who just wants to take better care of her children—and I’m going to shout a loud “fuck you” in their oppressors’ general direction.
…Until I come up with a more productive way to show my solidarity.