KRISTEN DATES LADIES UPDATE 3/3/14
Most girls are relentlessly told that we will be treated how we demand to be treated. If we want respect, we must respect ourselves.
This does three things. Firstly, it gets men off the hook for being held accountable for how they treat women. And secondly, it makes women feel that the mistreatment and sometimes outright violence they face due to their gender is primarily their fault. And thirdly, it positions women to be unable to speak out against sexism because we are made to believe any sexism we experience would not have happened if we had done something differently.
I cannot demand a man to respect me. No more than I can demand that anybody do anything. I can ask men to be nice to me. But chances are if I even have to ask he does not care to be nice. I can express displeasure when I’m not being respected. But that doesn’t solve the issue that I was disrespected in the first place.
I can choose to not deal with a man once he proves to be disrespectful and/or sexist. But even that does not solve the initial problem of the fact that I had to experience being disrespected in the first place.
As a young girl, I wish that instead of being told that I needed to demand respect from men that I had been told that when I am not respected by men that it’s his fault and not mine. But that would require that we quit having numerous arbitrary standards for what it means to be a “respectable” woman. It would mean that I am not judged as deserving violence based on how I speak, what I wear, what I do, and who I am.
- excerpt from “FYI, I Cannot “Demand” Respect From Men so Stop Telling Me That!" @ One Black Girl. Many Words. (via fajazo)
KRISTEN DATES LADIES UPDATE 3/3/14
tumblr so many things
This is a Klipspringer (Oreotragus oreotragus), a small species of antelope. They primarily live in mountainous areas, and it’s hooves are designed like that to allow it to stand on even the tiniest outcrop of rock.
Plus its name is a combination of “oreo” and “outrageous”.
oh my god its tiny little feet
The Empathy Exams by Leslie Jamison:
My job title is Medical Actor, which means I play sick. I get paid by the hour. Medical students guess my maladies. I’m called a Standardized Patient, which means I act toward the norms of my disorders. I’m standardized-lingo SP for short. I’m fluent in the symptoms of preeclampsia and asthma and appendicitis. I play a mom whose baby has blue lips.
Medical acting works like this: you get a script and a paper gown. You get $13.50 an hour. Our scripts are ten to twelve pages long. They outline what’s wrong with us—not just what hurts but how to express it. They tell us how much to give away, and when. We are supposed to unfurl the answers according to specific protocols. The scripts dig deep into our fictive lives: the ages of our children and the diseases of our parents, the names of our husbands’ real-estate and graphic-design firms, the amount of weight we’ve lost in the past year, the amount of alcohol we drink each week.
“In this sense, empathy isn’t measured just by checklist item 31—“Voiced empathy for my situation/problem”—but by every item that gauges how thoroughly my experience has been imagined. Empathy isn’t just remembering to say That must really be hard, it’s figuring out how to bring difficulty into the light so it can be seen at all. Empathy isn’t just listening, it’s asking the questions whose answers need to be listened to. Empathy requires inquiry as much as imagination. Empathy requires knowing you know nothing. Empathy means acknowledging a horizon of context that extends perpetually beyond what you can see: an old woman’s gonorrhea is connected to her guilt is connected to her marriage is connected to her children is connected to the days when she was a child. All this is connected to her domestically stifled mother, in turn, and to her parents’ unbroken marriage; maybe everything traces its roots to her very first period, how it shamed and thrilled her.”
Oh my god you guys.
I just looked up the doula classes I’d need to take to get certified, and they moved them from the school’s campus in Kenmore (inconveniently north of me) to their Seattle campus (approximately one mile from my house). AND the course costs almost exactly the same amount as my tax return this year.
I think… I think I might have to do this now. Oh shit.
hydraecho said: Wow. I can see you being the most awesome doula. Is that weird?
Aw thanks! I’ve been going back and forth on it for awhile; one week I’ll be super excited and talk about it all the time and almost sign up for classes, and then the next week I’ll be really pessimistic and decide I can’t afford it and tell myself that I wouldn’t be any good at it anyway. But I’m pretty sure I’d be a fucking rad doula. (Probably?) It’s also the cheapest of all my current potential plans, which is def a plus. But ahhh the future ahhhh money ahhhhhhhh how do you even.
But, like, what do I want to do with my life??? I have it narrowed down to these things:
And all of these things require significant start-up costs and I don’t have any money (I in fact have NEGATIVE MONEY) and just how do you adult? How do you get past the huge cost of entry to a Grown Up Career and get to do cool stuff? How how how i just dk