Tag: activism 101

#MaybeHeDoesn’tHitYou & The Importance of Internet Activism

The hashtag MaybeHeDoesn’tHitYou was started by Afro-Latina artist and writer Zahira Kelly to raise awareness of abuse that isn’t physical or visible. From there, hundreds of women shared their stories of abuse online.

This hashtag became a powerful means to highlight accounts of verbal abuse, control, and manipulation—revealing that there doesn’t have to be physical violence for a relationship to be abusive.

Even though this hashtag is now a couple weeks old and time moves fast on the internet, I wanted to bring this up today. I went to a local bookshop last night to look for summer reads and as I approached the cashier to buy a book, I overheard her talking to her coworker.

“People don’t notice emotional abuse,” she said. The woman she was speaking to nodded. “They don’t notice the difference between a bad relationship and a normal one.”

The rest of the conversation was a little hazy because I was listening from afar and not actually invited into the conversation.

But I remember she said this: “A scary number of them resonated with me.”

Then she said: “It reminded me of some of the things my boyfriend used to do.”

If this hashtag reveals anything, it reveals the scary reality of emotional abuse and manipulation and how common it is. It also reveals how difficult it is to recognize given the very narrow healthy vs. unhealthy relationship narratives we’re given.

We need to move beyond the “well, there isn’t physical violence” narrative as a means to recognize a harmful relationship. We need to move beyond ideas like “boys will be boys,” and “that’s just how things are.” The hashtag challenges this normalization and opens our minds to the fact that other forms of abuse—emotional manipulation, humiliation, control of who you can see and what you can do—to name a few.

That’s why we need to have these conversations. I think this is where the internet and social media come in as an ideal platform to start a dialogue on this.

Like the woman I overheard in the bookstore, this hashtag struck a chord with many people, including myself. In the moment, it can sometimes be difficult to label and recognize your experience for what it is. Especially given that our relationships take place within a context and a culture that downplays and normalizes bad relationships and problematic behaviors.

Here are a few examples of abuse women wrote about using the hashtag:

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More stories can be found here.

That’s why this is important. These are real stories and experiences and we need to make sure we listen to them and know that this is not okay.

Need support? Call the National Domestic Violence Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233).

Let’s Redefine How We Teach Young Girls Body Acceptance and Confidence: A Response to Discovery Girls Magazine

Discovery Girls Magazine describes itself as “a magazine created by girls, for girls.” Given that the magazine is aimed at girls as young as eight, I was shocked to come across an article on my newsfeed today titled: “What Swimsuit Best Suits You?”

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The layout of the magazine. Image Source.

The underlying premise: it’s never too early to teach young girls that their value comes from their bodies.

With lines like, “Find the perfect suit for your body type,” the message that can be discerned here is: only certain bodies deserve to be seen. It also sets up the idea that there are rules for how girls should present their bodies.

Have a curvy body? According to the spread, you better get yourself a one-piece.

The diagram reads: girls who are “curvy up top” should go for a one-piece with “side ties and cutouts that draw the eyes down,” while those who are “rounder in the middle” should opt for “busy geometrics” that “draw the eye inward.”

Let’s pause here for a moment. Who exactly is looking at these girls and why are these girls being painted as spectacles to be looked at in the first place? The implication here is that girls’ bodies are inherently sexual and there to be gazed at.

If we really want to help boost confidence in girls, then we can’t perpetuate narratives that their worth and self-esteem should rest in how they look to others, and in how desirable they are.

Let’s not forget the message that your confidence is inherently linked to what you wear and all it takes to feel confident in your body is finding the right swimsuit. The idea that happiness and feeling good about yourself are rooted in your appearance is a capitalist invention that many industries profit off of. And it doesn’t even work.

The angry response to the swimsuit feature led the Discovery Girls publisher to post an open letter acknowledging their mistake on Facebook.

A statement from the letter reads: “The article was supposed to be about finding cute, fun swimsuits that make girls feel confident, but instead it focused on girls’ body image and had a negative impact.”

I appreciate the response and the acknowledgement, but why does it take a swimsuit for a young girl to feel confident? Why does her confidence have to come from her appearance and her clothes? We have to remember that there wouldn’t be a similar article in a magazine targeted towards boys about what to wear to feel confident. In fact, we don’t feel the need to teach boys confidence at all.

So why do we teach girls to gain confidence through their looks?

Let’s look at the issue with this feature intersectionally now. Bikinis and swimsuits—we are told by the media—are for thin, able-bodied, and conventional bodies that are almost always modeled by white women. So for women and girls who live in unconventional bodies, it can be incredibly difficult—if not impossible— to feel good in a swimsuit.

That’s why this equation for confidence is not nearly enough. This does nothing but reinforce the status quo—operating under the thin ideal and norms about bodies.

I’ll admit it, I’ve fallen into this trap myself. I’ve written on this very blog about how I’ve grown to feel comfortable in my unconventional body wearing sports bras out in public and bikinis on the beach. But why is that what it took for me to stop feeling so bad about myself?

But you should know that I didn’t wear a bikini when I was nine. I already thought I didn’t have the right body type for it. So what about those girls? Where should their confidence come from?

Simply wearing the “right” thing won’t fix anything, it won’t suddenly boost self-esteem and it rests in the notion women are inherently insecure.

So let’s redefine how we teach body acceptance and confidence. Let’s teach young girls that you can like how you look and wear what you want regardless of whether or not it is “perfect for your body type” because that does not define you. Let’s teach young girls that feeling good about oneself can come from a variety of avenues that go beyond appearance—like talents, personal accomplishments, the ability to make people laugh or be a good friend, and so on.

Let’s challenge this narrative of bodies and confidence because we can do better. For the young girls reading this magazine and picking up these messages, we can do better.

My Planned Parenthood Story

I apologize for the little break I’ve taken from updating this website. In the meantime, I’ve posted a few blogs here: http://theithacan.org/blog/activism-101/

This summer there were many ongoing attacks and attempts to defund Planned Parenthood. The organization that serves over five million women, men, and teens worldwide and that has primarily supported low-income women is still under constant threat. The loss of such an organization would be devastating for women, their families, and for reproductive freedom.

In response to these ridiculous, ill-informed attacks, many have come forward sharing their stories and experiences with Planned Parenthood and explaining what it means to them. There is now even a Humans of Planned Parenthood page where people can share their stories.

Here’s mine.

My Planned Parenthood story is not the typical story that’s been cropping up. I’ve never really had to use their health care services (although everyone I know says they’re great). I’ve never had to have an abortion. Planned Parenthood has given me something different—a cause to care about, close friends, and confidence in making my own decisions.

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Let me explain a little more:

When I first started my freshman year of college, it was a little lonely. I’d made some friends. I liked my class. It wasn’t terrible—but I didn’t love it. I felt very stuck and isolated on the hill of my college and overwhelmed by it. Then I went to a random, extra-credit presentation on Roe v. Wade.

Before starting college I knew almost nothing about reproductive health. I knew nothing about the attacks on women’s bodies and their right to have control over their bodies. I thought Planned Parenthood was just a place to get condoms. I had no idea that they were part of a much bigger, crucial fight for basic human rights and gender equality.

So I listened to the speaker, a former Ithaca College professor named Zillah Eisenstein, talk about women she knew who got “back alley” abortions and risked their lives because they couldn’t get the care they needed. It just seemed so fundamentally wrong to me that someone’s rights and bodily autonomy could be taken away from them because of their gender.

And I wanted to get involved.

After the presentation ended, there was a woman named Alicia from Planned Parenthood of the Southern Finger Lakes tabling in the back. She was the current Director of Public Affairs, and she is now one of my dear friends. She was looking for people to table downtown with her during Applefest and since I really wanted to be part of something outside my college, I signed up.

The whole time when I was tabling, women kept walking up to us and telling us that PPSFL is the only reason why they can get their breast exams and basic, necessary health care needs. Alicia also told me that I should consider starting a Planned Parenthood VOX (now called Generation Action) chapter.

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Photo Taken in October 2013-The First Time I Ever Volunteered with PPSFL

I agreed.

Because of Planned Parenthood, I was able to start building a home and community for myself on my campus and get involved in the community. I started working with other students to start a Planned Parenthood group and I would go off campus to phone bank and speak with legislators about bills that impact access to reproductive health.

Planned Parenthood gave me a home and something to care about.

Planned Parenthood gave me a cause to put my negative energy into to turn it into something good.

Planned Parenthood taught me the importance of body positivity and bodily autonomy and the way they intersect.

I owe the organization everything for that.

My whole life is different now. I floated through high school only doing things I thought would get me a scholarship to college. I never did things that actually mattered to me until college. I challenged myself. I stopped being so shy and started facilitating conversations on tough, necessary topics like bystander intervention, Title IX, reproductive health, and more. I started understanding the social forces like gender inequality, sexism, classism, and other power structures that shape the world we live in.

Planned Parenthood gave me the tools to start to do something about that. To stop being so uncomfortable with body and to learn how to take ownership of it. To find the courage to stand up and speak in front of a group of people, to write online, and to realize that my voice has value.

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Thanks for everything PP,

Christina

Let’s Talk About Activist Burnout

Hi there, blog. Do you remember me?

I’ve missed you. I really have.

Each day I tell myself I want to blog. I tell myself that today will be the day that I post. I have lists of blog ideas in my notebook right now. I have written many blogs at my job. I have mostly-completed blogs just sitting on my desktop.

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But each time, something stops me.

A few days ago I read a passage in Roxane Gay’s book Bad Feminist that really seemed to describe what I’ve been feeling but never knew how to explain:

“We all have history. You can think you’re over your history. You can think the past is the past. And then something happens, often innocuous, that shows you just how far you are from being over it.”

Lately certain events and random occurrences in my life have dragged old, distressing memories to the forefront of my brain.

We all have moments that brought us to care about the things we do, to fight for the things we want to fight for. For me, a lot of what brought me to do the work I do—which mostly involves engaging people in conversations centered on equality, gender, healthy relationships, and activism—came from those memories which have me a strong desire to fight back, to take experiences that once brought me pain and use them to help people.

My drive to keep pushing forward for change came from those memories. But now my drive has been slowing drastically. And I hate it.

A few days ago I bought tickets to play inside the ball pit inside the National Building Museum in Washington, DC. The ball pit was essentially a giant pit of balls exactly like you would see in McDonalds but bigger and deeper and kind of dangerous.

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One moment you could be standing and totally fine and the next you could be slowly sinking, getting stuck and buried beneath a million tiny white balls. I would start to slip beneath the surface and then I would fight to break free.

That’s how I feel right now.

I feel like old memories and little things—that remind me how messed up the world still is and how much work there still is to do—keep piling up, threatening to bury me and I keep having to fight to break free to the surface again.

I know this post is metaphor-heavy but I think that’s what it needs to be.

The weird thing about the way I feel right now is that I don’t feel unhappy. I have many good things in my life and I’m aware that I have many good things. I feel more confident than I ever have before in my life.

But right now I also feel buried by all the things that still need to change.  

This weekend was rough. I realized how much I’m chained to my anger. Nothing huge happened. Instead, it was a collection of occurrences that added up.

I felt anger at  the men who cat called me outside my metro stop—just like they do every time I walk home alone. I felt disgusted by all the men who felt they were allowed to touch me because I was wearing a tank top. I felt gross and objectified by the men who grabbed me to get me to dance with them even when I screamed the word “Stop” over the loud, thudding music. I’m furious that this behavior is normalized and allowed—and I have the right to be. I’m having trouble letting myself take up that much space.

This is just one example of how backwards everything is. This is just one example of what I’ve been experiencing lately.This isn’t even close to the worst injustices out there—but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t matter.

It just means that I can’t give up yet—or ever.

But the way I’m feeling right now is telling me that I need to make some changes. I’ve written advice blogs on staying motivated before, but I missed something very important—I never talked about how critical it is to validate and address the way you feel.

All too often, when I try to call out something problematic, I’m just the annoying feminist activist who needs to chill, who doesn’t understand that that’s just the way the world is. And this happens frequently to anyone who dares to object to sexism, racism, ableism, etc.

Being silenced will not change anything, staying silent will not allow you to help make things better.

When it comes to feeling burnt out, take a break if you need. Reflect on the way you feel. Talk to others who will understand.* Find an outlet. Realize that you have a right to feel the way you do. Let yourself feel it.

Then keep going when you’re ready.

My voice is one of the few things I have among all the things in my life that I can’t control. I’m not going to give it up.

I’m ready to keep going.

*Although it is sadly stigmatized, seeing a counselor or mental health professional is always a good option when it comes to self-care and burnout.

A Letter to my Eighteen-Year-Old Self

I’ve officially graduated from high school two years ago. Here are some thoughts that I’d like to share with my eighteen-year-old self.

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Dear Eighteen-Year-Old Christina,

Congratulations, you’ve survived sitting there as the names of your 738 classmates were called and you finally walked across that stage and said goodbye to your high school life—trust me, this is a victory.

You’ve sent in a deposit to Ithaca College and you’re officially a part of the Class of 2017.

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You don’t know it right now but the years to come are by far the happiest and most fulfilling so far.

During your first few weeks, you will be really homesick. That’s okay. You don’t know anyone yet and having to share a bathroom with fifteen other women kind of sucks. It’s an adjustment but things will turn around quickly. For the first time, you aren’t just going through the motions in school trying to get the highest grade, you actually enjoy your classes. You’re actually learning things and it’s wonderful.

For once, what you’re learning about matters. You’re talking about race and gender and economic status and the way these pieces of our identities fit together to inform the advantages and disadvantages we will have in life. Unfortunately, a college classroom will be the first time that you ever get the chance to learn what the word feminism actually means.

Ithaca College is relatively small so it no longer feels like you’re slipping through the cracks like it did at your ridiculously huge high school. The days of sitting on a carpet outside the cafeteria because there isn’t enough room for everyone are over. (Yes, my friends and I actually ate lunch on a rug senior year.)

Because of this, you’re able to really distinguish yourself from your peers—you’re able to focus on yourself instead of competing with and comparing yourself to others.

Freeing yourself from this pressure will allow you to excel in your classes, become a DJ, start a new student organization, and speak in front of state legislators all in your first semester. With everyone’s information and personal business available to you as soon as Facebook loads, it can be difficult to not feel like you need to be having as much fun and accomplishing just as much as those around you—but don’t worry about it.

You’ll be so much happier once you learn how to focus on what you love and how to do those things for yourself instead of a resume or because you feel like it will please someone else.

Here’s another secret, first-year college student ever knows what on earth they’re doing. So stop worrying so much about what you’re doing with your life. You don’t have to have everything mapped out. Instead, let yourself stumble into things that you didn’t know you loved. For example, that politics course you randomly selected because you didn’t know what else to take will turn into your second major. The random writing seminar that you actually shouldn’t have been allowed to take will be the place where you meet your best friend. The random talk on Roe v. Wade and reproductive rights hosted on your campus will turn into something that you actively fight for and organize around.

Unfortunately, you will also stumble into bad things and bad people too. A few months into your first semester, you will meet one of the worst people you’ve yet to meet. My advice is to not blame yourself as much as you do for the things that happen between you. It is not your fault that someone else made the decision to treat you like total crap. Realize that he’s inflicted pain on many people and not just you.

This experience will raise the bar for all future relationships—whether it be romantic, friendship, family, or otherwise.

Suddenly you will have no patience for people who don’t text you back or friends who don’t put in enough effort or family members who make constantly criticize you or people who text throughout dates. Walk away quickly from people who make don’t treat you with the respect that you know you deserve.

A year later you will find yourself facilitating programs on healthy relationships and starting peer education based bystander intervention program.

This will be one of the best things you ever do.

You’re sophomore year is going to be a tough one—parts of it are going to straight up suck. Sorry. But work hard through it anyways because even though it may be incredibly challenging it will be so much more rewarding and transformative.

You’ll realize who your real friends are—and who aren’t. You’ll feel lonely sometimes—but that’s only because you’re removing toxic people from your life. Through everything you’ll become connected with wonderful people. Blogging will become an outlet that will give you the opportunity to live in Washington, DC for a summer. The things that bring you pain with inspire you to take action and that action will direct you towards what you want to do in the future.

Here’s to the next great two years of your life,

Christina