Category: Society

Unequal Equality: We Have A Long Way To Go

I wonder if 6.26.13 will become one of those dates, where people 50 years from now will ask, ‘Do you remember?’ and ‘Where were you when you heard the news?’

In case it isn’t, I guess I will answer those questions now.

I was sitting in the passenger seat of my 2004 Honda Element (of the burnt orange variety, in case you were wondering) at a gas station in some random back-hills town about 2 hours inside the border of Pennsylvania. My fiancé and I had just spent one hell of a harrowing extended-weekend “vacation” in the Boston area apartment hunting. We were tired, grouchy and beyond ready to be done with the driving and just in our own home already. Given the rate of rent, the cost of realtor fees and the general stress of fearing every decent, affordable and safe-looking apartment in the city was already rented, we hadn’t exactly been keeping up-to-date with the goings-on in Washington.

So, back to the passenger seat, at a gas station. A quick glance through Facebook on my super-duper smart phone, and I saw that Proposition 8 had been overturned! It cannot be stressed enough how wonderful this moment was for so many people, couples and families. But, it felt like mere seconds before there was a whirr of social media activity and suddenly a text from my mother, “Marriage!!! Yay!!!”
Continue reading →

Am I Not Worrying Enough?

Image

So, today on the ol’ Facespace, a friend of mine posted that she’d witnessed at Target a woman who left her 8-ish-year-old-daughter alone in the girls’ department while she went to go, presumably, take a leak. My friend posed a question essentially asking if she was paranoid, or was there a crack in the woman’s judgment? After reading the comments responding to this post, I have to ask: What the fuck is wrong with people? The majority of people commenting said something to the effect of, “No! You’re not paranoid! I never let my children out of my sight ever because bad people!” Which, okay. I don’t agree, but you do you, and you know your kids better than I do! BUT! One person responded that he thought the mother should have her “uterus revoked” for committing such a heinous act of terrible parenting, clearly on par with Joan Crawford or Michael Lohan. This poor woman who NONE OF US KNOW at Target is now being judged, like, way harsh, Tai. Clearly, I don’t think this was my friend’s intent in posing this question on Facebook. Sometimes parents like to gauge where they stand. And, for the record, I don’t think my friend is paranoid for not considering this sort of thing whilst shopping for facewash, Oxiclean, a dvd copy of Meatballs, and a new sundress. If someone doesn’t feel that his or her child is ready to be alone in Target, then that’s that. But was the woman who went pee really deserving of all this bullshit? (Hint: NO.)

Continue reading →

Losing Baby Weight Is A Bullshit Endeavor Sometimes

So, when I was in the middle of pregnancy and had finally gotten to the point where I had to put away all of my regular clothes and exist solely in Target and H&M’s approximation of semi-attractive maternity clothes, I convinced myself that a few short weeks after giving birth would find me sliding my skinny jeans back on and wearing all those cute tiny tops and adorable dresses that I lived in before I got knocked up. Never mind that there was an entire month where I ate nothing but candy. Never mind that my only weird pregnancy cravings was the giant soft pretzels covered in butter and salt. Never mind reality. Continue reading →

Guest Post: My Own Feminist Killjoy

I’m glad to announce this will be Callie’s final guest post for us because she’s not gonna be a guest anymore! She’s joining the Damn Pants crew – we’re showing her the secret handshake and everything.

So, have you heard of this thing called ‘a feminist killjoy’? I have been hearing it a lot lately. Hell, I have even being saying it. “That’s right babe, I’m being a feminist killjoy.”

What? What is that?

In case you, like me up until a couple weeks ago, have not heard of this phrase, a feminist killjoy is someone who will notice and call attention to instances of sexism, racism, privilege, what-have-you, in a given conversation, particularly when everyone else is having a grand old time. I picture some girl with thick glasses, crazy hair and bright red lipstick repeating “killjoy, killjoy, killjoy,” over and over again while smoking a cigarette. I know, it makes no sense; Just like the phrase, ‘feminist killjoy.’

I have kind of a problem with this phrase, though, because killjoy implies that … it’s kinda wrong to point out instances of sexism, racism, homophobia … etc… It makes it seem like being worried about those things makes you kind of an uptight arse. It makes it seem like we are inadvertently supporting the idea that there are times when that kind of stuff is ok, you know?

Continue reading →

Guest Post: Hold On

I am super stoked to announce our first guest post from Callie over at calliegarp.wordpress.com, where she writes about feminist art. I have a feeling we’re going to get to know her very well.  

It’s summer, now, I guess. But it doesn’t feel like summer to me. Summer is going out in short dresses, collecting suntans like arcade tokens, puttering about in my mother’s garden, sitting outside for long hours, reading in the shade of the pear tree. But this summer, I’m living in a new state, a new town. My This neighborhood is filled with misshapen houses, plastic flowers competing with the identical bunches of red geraniums, anti-abortion signs and sad stray cats. I live across from a large brick church. It towers over our bedroom.

I don’t like to hold her hand here. She is the sweetest person in my world – the only person outside of myself I know how to love right now, and I don’t like to hold her hand here. It’s a little strange. It’s more than a little strange. I walk outside and I feel like I can feel them watching. I am always waiting for that first altercation. I live in fear of the words fag and dyke and what are you doing?

Continue reading →

Feminist Friday: The Horror of the Mundane

Wow, it’s been a really awful week in woman news, right? Obviously there’s the case in Cleveland that has just been the worst. On top of that, the Pentagon study on sexual assault in the military seems to have finally brought some attention to an issue that’s been widely discussed in feminist circles. These two stories have dominated the news cycle; cable news has particularly been obsessed with Cleveland. Charles Ramsey has been lauded as a hero, rightly so, and Castro is becoming the embodiment of evil, which seems pretty accurate to me. Hearing and reading about Cleveland and the Pentagon nearly non-stop all week highlights some of the major problems in our country when it comes to domestic and sexual violence against women – it’s pervasive to the point of commonness and we only care when it’s particularly gruesome.

When the Cleveland story broke, after the initial “Ho. Ly. Crap.” reaction, I felt an air of familiarity. The kidnapped, kept in captivity, sex slave/torture victim is a pretty common story line. I know I’ve read books by authors such as James Patterson and John Sanford, I’ve seen it on shows like Criminal Minds and Law & Order: SVU. We’ve seen it in real life as well – Elizabeth Smart, Jaycee Dugard; the more you think about it, the more you realize it’s everywhere. I’m not pointing this out to reduce the experiences of the women in Cleveland. I am saying these types of things happen, get sensationalized by the news media, get retold by our entertainment media over and over until it is a part of our culture. Abduction, rape and torture – our fascination teeters on, and often falls over, the line of decency.
Continue reading →

Sure You Can Call Me God.

I’m not religious.  My parents aren’t religious.  I grew up believing in evolution and that babies came from vaginas.  My parents were really into honesty and frank conversations with us.  They told us about religions and that it was a thing that would affect our lives if we chose to participate or not.  I had a very vague idea of who this god fella was supposed to be.

I went to church a lot as a kid, I had friends who’s families were religious and I was really into sleepovers on Saturday nights.  I was totally into going to church with them.  I found it to be really amusing and kind of like gym class, lots of standing up and sitting down and sometimes singing and then hugging strangers who were really concerned that I looked like a boy.  It was an experience like no other to me.  My family didn’t do that, ever, at all.  We spent our Sunday morning eating sausage gravy and climbing trees. Continue reading →

Motherhood: Just…let go.

I’m going to let you in on a little secret… No mother EVER has “it” (aka: their shit) together. I know this because I am a mother and I try to keep it together, but that’s IMPOSSIBLE. I find it a lot easier to just…let go.

I accept the facts that I am never going to have clean clothes, there is always the possibility of a meltdown from someone (including myself), and I am going to need at least one vice (like beer!) to get through it all.

I thought I was pretty good at keeping things in control before I had kids. I could go out in public with clean clothes, and jewelry, and washed hair and do what I actually set out to do.

Even after I had my daughter, I did pretty well. I could hide the spit up on my shoulder with layers of cardigans and I could try to pretend that I was involved in a real conversation when I was actually just trying to maintain eye contact because I had only gotten three hours of sleep the night before.

But, now that I have two kids, I’ve decided to let go of all of that. I’m pretty sure that I ALWAYS look discheveled. And I know that I am going to have a hard time forming complete sentences and that one of my kids is not going to get what he or she wants right when he/she asks for it. And all of that is okay. I know that, eventually, all of this will get easier. And I will have “it” MORE together.

But, for now, I’m good with letting go.

Inequity Insurance.

The following services are not covered:

Health services and associated expenses for infertility treatments including:

●  In vitro fertilization

●  Artificial insemination

●  Embryo transport; and

●  Donor ovum and semen and related costs including collection, preparation and storage of.

I’m not infertile.  Please see I STILL HAVE A UTERUS for more information about my oven.  Every time I call my insurance company, every time I look at the information from the doctor, every time I go to HR to ask my millions of questions, I want to scream I’M NOT FUCKING INFERTILE.

Infertility primarily refers to the biological inability of a person to contribute to conception.  Infertility may also refer to the state of a woman who is unable to carry a pregnancy to full term. Continue reading →