Tag: feminism

Growing pains

My reactions to the Super bowl halftime experience.

First thoughts:
Holy cow, what amazing bodies! 
What amazing moves! 
What amazing skills! Damn!

Second thoughts:
Wow, that’s a lot of crotch shots. 
I am feeling uncomfortable. 
I wish I were watching alone. 
I wonder if my boys are watching. 
Why do I hope they are not? 
What’s the issue? 
Is it my own issue?
Am I jealous of these women? 
-a prude?
-turned on? 
-nervous about others’ reactions? 

Third thoughts:
That Puerto Rican flag looks so cozy.  
Right ON with these African and Middle Eastern beats. 
This feels so PRIMAL.
This feels like HOME.
Holy shit this is sexy.
And powerful. 
I want to DO that. 
I want to BE them.

Then the show ended, we collected the kids we brought and headed home. Along the way I heard my youngest say he heard the show was inappropriate. I heard echoes of someone in the car saying “it was.”

I said nothing. 

I awoke the following morning with the Super Bowl heavy on my mind.

A) because one of my gut reactions to the whole display of feminine power, grace and sex was discomfort.

And

B) because I had stayed quiet when questions about its “appropriateness” arose.

Me, who likes to think of herself as a feminist, open-minded and sex positive, was uncomfortable.

Me, who likes to think of herself as an activist stayed quiet.

Me who has sitting dog-eared and underlined on her bookshelf Pussy: A Reclamation and Me and White Supremacy still saw this powerful and awe-inspiring display of feminine voice, power and collaboration and had a reaction of “uh-oh”.

WTF? 

Today I am owning my disappointment in myself with compassion. I am acknowledging where I am in my evolution. I am seeing my discomfort for what it is— remnants of the worldview I inherited living where I live in the time I live. I am re-affirming my desire to remove the lens placed upon my vision by a thousands-year-old patriarchal culture suppressing women’s sexuality, desire and power.

I am also talking with my boys about discomfort I felt (and where it comes from) regarding seeing two minority and middle-aged women own that stage with their undeniable talent and sexual energy. 

Shakira and J-Lo, I am channeling your strength, discipline and bravery. I will do better. 

365 days to go

This Sunday my aching body is begging for rest, so I’m snuggled in with the books of two wise women. When looking for a photo of Ms. Maya Angelou’s family to help me better envision a poetic scene she was painting with her words, I stumbled upon the above 1983 gem of her and the other author-activist I’m soaking up today, Ms. Gloria Steinem. Of course these two kindred-spirit warrior goddesses knew each other. In their unique voices they champion the same cause: truth and freedom.

In this specific moment in time I’m in one of the stages between being set free and being pissed off. I am feeling overwhelmed. I am anxious about what the next 365 days will hold as we prepare to choose our leader next November 3rd. Part of me wants to hunker under this blanket where it’s safe and not initiate any ripple-causing or feather-ruffling conversations. Another part of me wants to pick up a megaphone and ask tough question after tough question about patriarchy and colonialism and how and where we see these structures in our homes, schools, businesses and government. This part of me knows the discomfort required in looking at the truth of how I participate in and benefit from structures that aren’t designed for the greatest good and the most complete freedom.

In times when I flounder in aches and pains and confusion and apathy, I call to these women to show me the way to sit in discomfort, use voice to ring truth and find strength to walk the talk.