ahdurr

From the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette: "Until recently, black adults were largely ignored by some book publishers who believed black people don't read books."

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. "I'm not racist, but - " Like seriously. Are. You. KIDDING me with this shit. This isn't the first dumbass standalone racist sentence I've read in the P-G. Or anywhere, but Pittsburgh has a huge Afro-American population. I'm assuming they've got more than a few writers of colour on board; I've seen photographs and names that I recognize to be of Middle Eastern male descent, and yes, I know about male and female names from that part of the world, and no, it's not because I went to school with a lot of brown folks.

Rest of article: http://post-gazette.com/pg/07242/813343-44.stm

now is the time to invent

Well ladies and freedom fighters, here I am! And finally, I'm at your full disposal.

It kinda tickles me that my tenth post on the first blog I've ever started that I actually intend on continuing with for a great long while is one of the most important I'll ever write, I guess in terms of personal meaning.

I graduated from high school on time in June 2006 and went from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania to York University in Toronto, Ontario, in August. I was already a feminist and I've always been a pretty clear-headed lady; I am one of a select few who escaped sexual abuse before age 17 and still have never been a victim two weeks before my 19th birthday. I have a small, tight-knit little family made up of ladies who were well-adjusted to men walking out. My mom had kind of a rough go of it when my dad moved out, but considering what he'd done to her I don't blame her now. Frankly, my fam runs smoothly and normally with little male influence, that of my stepfather and barely my maternal grandfater. Up until a week ago I also had my father to call on the other end of the line, but I no longer have a father and that's the end of that fucking story.

To put a long story that I've been repeating all summer to people who asked me "AHDURR WHY AREN'T YOU GOING BACK" short, I fell in love with the fucking awesome community of Toronto and the gorg country of Canada, but I spent all my fucking money there gallavanting around with my rich foreigner friends. I started to adopt their kind of carefree and individualistic attitude (very American, y'all, to be individualistic) and joined York's Sexual Assault Survivors' Support Line to regain my sense of self and servitude. The actual three-day training had a bigger impact on me than the organization did - due to a fucked-up depression I stopped leaving my dorm and quit the volunteership, although there was a lot of internal haterade among its participants that was kind of disheartening - but I started thinking back on my original point of view towards my home country, which reeked of white privilege, that I would go and live in Canada and become a citizen there, and live out a good life with some hockey player who wasn't a douchebag (doesn't exist - other than Sid) and leave America to clean up its own shit.

I decided I didn't want to save money by going to my county's community college and am now at Seton Hill University, about an hour away from my home in Pittsburgh, where my aunt and role model attained her master's in art therapy. I, naively, did not realize that as a small Catholic "liberal arts" college, it was a hotbed for Caucasian conservatism and, thereby, doucheism. Everywhere I turn there's a smartassed white boy, which, in Canada, I could always counter with a crowd of brown folks. Not that I constantly prefer people of colour to my own race - I'm equal opportunity y'all - but I pretty much flatly refuse to be in any environment if there's no colour in it. I can't do shit with a singularly white education. I need, we all need, the point of view of people of colour, and the fact that I'm writing that like a fucking invitation makes me sick. It should be the standard. I already know the white race, okay? I know it better than I'll ever know anyfuckingthing else. I'm damn ashamed of our track record, to infantilize the issue. I already know my socioeconomic status. I want the opinion of the rich (although I can pretty much guess it) and those living below the poverty line, and of the homeless, and the imprisoned, and the addicted. Thankfully, my Seton Hill education - which will hopefully last, count it, one university year - doesn't seem too awful. I'm shooting for all As, which have never been obtained by this gal, ever.

I've been increasingly anxious about living my life the way I have. I'm not heavy into partying, I don't steal or do anything fucking awful, but I don't do anything in a world where tons, and tons, and tons, of shit is going down every day. In a country where my gender is ogled, objectified, molested, abused, raped and basically treated as trash, a commodity, in the year two thousand and fucking seven, I mean I'm sorry but even now as I'm writing this I cannot stand and let that shit go by. I'm not the traditionally beautiful girl - I hardly ever dress up in normal life to boot - who's had to ward off whistles and degrading and shitty comments, but I am a good looking young lady and I have been sexually harassed. I know few girls who HAVEN'T been. I don't think I know any! I'm sorry but I have fabulous bone structure. Coming from a little lady who only about three years ago thought she was an ugly piece of shit because she didn't look like a goddamn movie star, I mean that's saying a lot.

I think I'm pretty goddamn lucky that I've got such a sense of worth and self, thanks to my upbringing and what I've found in feminism and the concept (I mean, REALITY) of female/femail/femaal empowerment (I can barely stand to spell 'woman' because of the 'man' and 'female' because of the 'male,' such is my contempt for the weaker gender, as they so often prove themselves to be). This is probably going to sound selfish, but how can I go about living my fucking life without being a feminist activist? I escaped most of the consequences of being a teenage girl in the United States. It's practically a modern miracle. It's not just about feminism, although that is closest to my heart - it's about gay rights and human rights, not just social rights. It's about whatever fucking form of activism I want to take on!

Today in the Seton Hill library I read "Two Ways A Woman Can Get Hurt: Advertising And Violence" by Jean Kilbourne. Mz Kilbourne didn't tell me anything I didn't already know - I studied communications at York and, in line with Canada's smooth style of being kick-ass, was taught a non-bigoted unit on Women in Media by a male prof, what are the fucking odds (plus, the first place girls learn that they're sex objects is the telly, y'all, stop kidding yourself) - but her wording, professional with hints of "I'm fucking sick of this shit", almost had me crying my balls off in the middle of the place. I can't imagine a life of doing anything but helping people the fuck out. Sometimes I want to turn to some lady next to me and spill my guts out to her about this shit. I want her to feel good about herself. I want her to have a full personality, huge ideals about her life and the future of the world, not to look like she's afraid to take up her space on this damn planet. I used to think that I was selfish by feeling this way, and I don't know why I felt like that. If none of my sisters are going to step up, I sure as fuck am. I'm in it for you. I want you to feel great. I want my gay brothers and sisters to get their fucking due. I want to tell this shithole country that if it doesn't accept, as a society, that we will never again return to a time before the 1960s, we're all gonna die. Soon.

I am now majoring in social work at Seton Hill and honestly I feel like I'm wasting my time, but I'm looking forward to learning how to better speak and present myself. God knows you can't debate a man on a feminist issue (nevermind - ANY ISSUE) without a snarky level head or he won't take you seriously. I have a cause, I have found the reason that I was born. I truly believe that, although it sounds kinda batshit, and I'm fucking geeked out to start what's destined to be a life of heartbreak and turmoil and great, great happiness working in community and widespread activism to empower women and any other oppressed minority group (what minority group isn't oppressed, I ask you) that comes my way. Here I fucking come, you assholes. I'm gonna beat you at your own fucking game!

Me, 29 August 07

"Will there always be concerts where women are raped?
Watch me make up my mind instead of my face
The number one must-have is that we are safe" - Sleater-Kinney, "#1 Must Have"

"I'm still not there but do feel something
I'm tired of sitting pretty I'm tired of sitting tight
I'm willing and I'm ready now to push with all my might
Why don't you help why don't you help
Why don't you help me and build it?" - Mr Something Something, "The Prize"

full of life! full of life i'm full of life!!!!

I like to consider myself The Feminist Whisperer, or perhaps The Calm Feminist even though personally I'm a huge drama queen. I mean I'm working on that, on not being so intense over EVVVVVerything. My mom really appreciates that because every time we're in the car and I do this HUGE GASP from the passenger seat she nearly runs off the fucking road, and I'm like "What? I'm just reading a magazine." Also, when I saw Neko Case a few weeks ago (more on that amazing shite lates), she started off with "Things That Scare Me" and I did HUGE GASP and the two ladies in front of me, who I could tell had a good sense of humo(u!)r, did a kind of lookback and I was like "Sorry." I did it again later and I could tell that I embarrassed the person I was with, so I felt a little ashamed. :( Fuck that, I love Neko!!

Anyway! The point I'm getting at is that while I get really the fuck worked up over my favo(u)rite feminist/gay/peeps of colo(u)r/ableism/poverty/whatev issues, I also realize that if we don't approach them with a calm head we'll never be taken seriously. I'll be called THE CRAAAZY FEMINIST and a few other colorful/colourful? titles. (While usually I am the biggest supporter of colorful language, I can't stomach it tonight. I'm too fuckin serious right now!)

My point would be perfectly exampled by one of the most prominent members of my personal God-dess Divine (see sobby cornfest Pride 'n Prej) club, Amy Poehler of SNL and (my personal fave) Wet Hot fame. I saw snippets of her interview in Bust magazine like, at the beginning of the summer, and I was like "Fuckin hell yeah" when I saw all the bush-talk (not Bush-talk, he's not worth our time, and besides the only bush I'll be trusting from now on will be my own, all women Republican and otherwise should have stuck with that motto from the beginning!) and hatred of those NASTY-ASS American Apparel ads. Pitchfork is a kind of guilty pleasure for me and I can't even read ONE piece of news or one review, sopping wet with laaaame metaphor, without feeling uncomfortable because I'm looking at some chick's buttcheek while the other one's hidden in some funky-ass unitard, or some other weird shit. It's just weird. And chances are I think it's weird because I feel like I'm male-gazing at this lady, which is another thing that Amers brings up in her interview. Well actually she's asked about it. WHATEV

I ordered the back issue from Bust because it was only $4.99 with shipping included (word, and I got it fast as hell) and because I had to see what Poehler had to say. I've been admiring this little lady forevs. I don't know how you can deny her: She's a spitfire! She's hilar! She's goofy! You know how sometimes you can tell that somebody's kinda sorta on your side? Well I was right. Amy Poehs is reppin' my mindset big time!

1) She's funny!
I won't claim to be funny, but if I didn't have a sense of humor about the ways of the world I'd have done myself in long ago. I remember how I felt when I first realized more fully than ever before that I was essentially a second-class citizen. Man! That was a shitty day. I do have it better than folks of colour* in some areas because I'm white, but in the end boys are boys*, they group together (bros over hos, anyone? Anyone? No? Huh.) to stare at us. They don't care about our colour. They just wanna do things to us. Ugghugug.

So Amy Poehs' approaching these topics like getting ladies to take up more real estate and re-establish a damn sense of normalcy for little gals with a sense of humor, I think, makes it more relatable and easier to digest. And at the same time she's not making a joke out of it. She's not joking about it but you're still feeling like she's not lecturing. Great, huh?!!

2) also calls the Pussycat Dolls' "feminism" "so bullshit", which is what I call "so true". When you stop kidding yourself about that, get back to me. Until then, we're not friends if you're into PD "feminism". Lates!

After I read it - and it damn near made me cry, btw, I feel like an enemy of the damn state of things so often that when I read something that's so pro-my beliefs, and from a celebrity, I tend to drama queen it up - I turned on the telly and it sucked ball. I didn't want to watch old sexy fart Mike Rowe dick around with some dudes. Wow, Mike Rowe, you succeeded as a white man. I'd like to see him flirt with young men on Dirty Jobs as much as he does the young ladies he sometimes works with. Huh! Huh!? How bout that!

I don't watch celebrity bullshit. Best Week Ever is as close as I get, because the comedians are hilarious. Which reminds me, who the fuck decided to separate actress from actor and comedienne from comedian? Although "comedienne" is a kick-ass spelling. So I had to turn away from most channels. It's around 7 PM. I could watch some more white dudes doin' they thang on History or CSPAN but what's the point? I wanted to watch Weekend Update. I did me a little dance when Amy Poehs took over for Tina Fey. I'm not the biggest fan of Tina Fey, although I love Mean Girls (though less and less, increasingly) and a lot of stuff from 30 Rock, and I'm so glad they didn't put some dude in as lead anch over Mz Amy. I think Seth Meyers is funny, I mean I'm not out to kill off all these white dudes. In Andy Samberg/Amndby Sander's NOW-wearing incident and in Hot Rod's refusal to monopolize on muchos easy anti-woman comedy of past films (however, they also refused to make Isla Fisher funny at all) I see a lot of potential. A lot. And it warms my heart. It really really does, because that's my sense of humor, all that Lonely Island new-SNLers Human Giant crazy bizarre smart comedy bullshit, I mean I adore it! It's a lot of guys still, but HG made up for Grandma's Boy's misuse of Linda Cardellini with that hilarious mother-son moving company sketch, and these dudes seem okay. They do. And it's not a matter of "oh to survive in this new world where women have rights I have to pretend to not be who I really am, the supreme ruler of the universe" no that's not it at all.

Tangent!

Anyway, my point is, if you're like me and you want to cry when you see that a successful and hilarious celeb is on "your side", which is kind of juvenile sounding but whatev, order that fucking back issue! $4.99!

Oh yeah, and the end of that TV thing - sometimes I don't feel "safe" watching TV, you know? I'm so aware of all the bullshit that sometimes I only feel like I'm not hurting myself - or anyone else, but mainly myself and my intelligence, honestly - by watching Human Giant or SNL (which, for the most part, has gotten pretty stale, still) or like, Doctor Who, or Shark Week. Or MST3K or Homicide Life on the Street, my old gold standards. I can't watch CNN, MSNBC, I can barely watch my local news without wondering WHY THE FUCK Andrew Stockey, sports dude, moved over to the left side of the news desk for morning broadcasts, while Kelly Frey stayed on the fucking right! I automatically equate left with supremacy (perhaps because my left breast is the larger? Hmmmm).

I got the name of this blog from an Andrew Bird song I couldn't get out of my head, "Plasticities", and the line "and precious territory". I thought it was "plastic," and now I realize why I still like plastic better. Amy Poehs and I (I and Amy Poehs? It's my blog, anyway) want the younger ladies, the teenaged ladies, the adult ladies, the middle-aged ladies and the older ladies to know that they aren't supposed to be plastic. They're supposed to be "sassy and full and weird and geeky and smart and independent". Amy Poehs, I could not have put it better myself. Hells yeah!

Sometimes I just like to know that I don't have to fit into an image, you know? That by not looking like everybody else I get to stick out, and sticking out is my right. All us ladies need to claim our fucking real estate. Pronto!

In other news, I'm listening to "Waiting To Know You" from Fiery Furnaces and that shit is my ish! If you wanted a few unintentional feministandotherrights anthems, I personally enjoy "Declare Independence", which gives me goose pimples if I'm listening to it in the right mood, and "New World" from Bjork, aka Mother Earth.

In even more news, I love Michael Showalter. Inside, all feminists do, and we give him daily props for keepin' it realskies.