Since I really don't think I have the energy to cope with the serious rage I know I'm going to experience as I read this horrible, condescending, pointless, petty, and resentful article in full, suffice it to say that I hate it more than just about anything on planet earth. And I hate a lot of shit. For now I'll let Amanda Marcotte do the talking, and see if I can come back to this later without my brain exploding. But I really am curious about why the New York Times is so determined to undermine young people at every chance (based on bogus research and made-up theories) they get. Stop it, guys. We actually are smart enough to find and read newspapers.

ATTN: Stupid People on the Internet

I was pleased to see this post turn up on Jezebel today, because as someone who had similar experiences  several times over the course of my life as a teenage girl I know that it's absolute bullshit to be shamed for your body when all you're doing is trying to be comfortable. However, I was not pleased to read the slew of shamey-victim-blamey comments that followed the piece. Are you serious Wendy? When a young woman decides to open up to you about the first time she's ever felt ashamed of her sexuality, it is not the appropriate time (as if there's ever an appropriate time!) to suggest that she's overreacting or deserved what she got.

Michael Pollan and I Are Offcially Breaking Up

Michael Pollan. Seriously. Stop it right now. I want to like you! I want to believe everyone who says you're the savior of food in America! That would make my life so easy. But instead I keep noticing that you have a hard time wrapping your head around feminism's role in the U.S.'s approach towards food over the past 50 years, and you don't seem to be all that interested in the complexities of women's relationship to food either. Other people have called you out about this, thankfully. Plus you seem to have some freaky grudge against vegetarians, who you claim are naive and sentimental. Just shut up and eat the $10 local grass fed burger you guys!

Ugh

Can we seriously never have a conversation (on the internet or in a group of people in person) about female genital mutilation/cutting/circumcision without SOME fool-ass-fool jumping in with "But what about male circumcision?!" Stop it. Actually, this applies across the board to all conversations about terrible things that happen to women. Is it really so frightening that sometimes we take a few minutes to not talk about dudes and/or their penises?

Lessons!

I'm learning more than I ever really hoped or expected to about just how tightly people cling to privilege. The situations I've been dealing with lately have mostly been about white privilege, but in confronting these ugly little debacles male privilege has come up too. I've questioned a few people lately on comments they have made, and more than one of them has taken the "you are just too emotional to argue with" approach--obviously as a confident woman I have no grasp of rationality. And then of course there's the flare of anger, the instant defensiveness, the "why don't you mind your own business." Because you see, women can be such nosy bitches, and somehow when you posted that Facebook status you didn't really mean for anyone to comment on it, let alone challenge your problematic ideas expressed therein.
These people know that the tactics they use to respond to me will shut down any real attempts at conversation. I really think they know that they're wrong, somehow. When they get called out, somewhere in there they know that they've said something fucked up and don't know how to justify it, so they skirt the issue. They make it about me. They make it about me because they convince themselves that I'm attacking them, that I'm trying to be rude or to hurt them or to make them look stupid. I couldn't care less about any of that. What it's really about is the world we live in that normalizes and encourages white privilege and male privilege, and a whole host of other unsavory attitudes that systemically contribute to the abuse and oppression of others. I hate that world. I hate seeing it reflected back at me in people I know. Teachers of mine have told me that the most important part is planting that first seed of consciousness, the thing you say that pierces the surface and gets carried around, turned over, periodically examined, occasionally making its presence obvious and uncomfortable. That's when it starts to make a difference.
For now maybe I'm clumsy. I don't always express myself like I want to, though the words come easier now in conversation and in type. I'm getting better at controlling my anger, but I still feel the heat in my face and the shiver in my voice when I know I'm about to go somewhere ugly. But I've decided I can deal with a little extra anger and discomfort--it's worth it. And you know what, white dudes in my life? You could stand to be a little more uncomfortable too. Think of how shitty it can feel when you're being challenged, or getting called on your nasty comments, or being asked to check your privilege, and I can guarantee you that the people you trample on every day without ever noticing feel a lot worse than you do in that moment when you realize you're wrong.
So I'm trying. I'm trying to be a better advocate for myself and ally for others, and someday maybe I'll actually get to consider myself an activist. But I'm still learning, and it's still hard.