#teporiginal

[itisreallyeasytobeafeminist]

The Empowerment Project wants to know what YOU think of your body. How would you describe it? What does it deserve? When do you love/hate it? How do you treat it? How does it feel to be in your body? We want to hear what you have to say. All you have to do is finish this statement in one to 10 words:

"My body is _____."

Click here for full details.

[itisreallyeasytobeafeminist]

A TEP Original: Dear Drunk Man

An open letter in response to an unfortunate situation at a bar. Written by Kalee Burrows

Dear Drunk Man, Here’s the thing. You were drunk. You were stumbling. You were slurring. It happens. I can forgive that. What I’m bothered by is the fact that you kept touching my back, my hair, my waist, my arm. At one point, you leaned back and told me directly that you were checking out my butt. I asked you to not touch me. I moved over a seat. I was polite, though I did not need to be. It was extremely uncomfortable and annoying. What bothered me even more was the fact that no one around us said anything to you. People could clearly see and hear what was going on and they did nothing. It’s all very infuriating. So thank you, Drunk Man. Thanks for reminding me what patriarchy feels like. It only fuels my feminist energy. Sincerely, The 23-Year-Old Woman Who Told You to Stop

[itisreallyeasytobeafeminist]

A TEP Original: Standing Up Against My Rape

Thank you to those today and in the past who stand up despite how lonely, cruel, and sometime shameful it can be. The fact that it is being brought to the forefront is a start. 

A short narrative by Anonymous.

“You can’t rape the willing,” they yelled from the windows as myself and others chanted outside the fraternity house. I can’t recall what we chanted, but it was a protest against my rape.

“Of course they will hide the truth, people want to send their kids here,” is what I told the anchorman that asked me a question.  

Laura X visited my college and she said that the reason why the boys yelled, “You can’t rape the willing” is because there is a tradition in U.S. culture that black women are easy. I am Black and my male perpetrator is white.

Ms. X asked to interview me live. I declined.  That was 1992.

My father called me a whore, my step-brother told me to leave those boys alone, and my step-mother said, “Well it wasn’t like he jumped out of the bushes or anything!”  His fraternity brothers stopped me outside the lunch hall and said, “You all were already sleeping together!”

The truth is he raped me three times and I was a virgin. I was raped because I said no and fought back. I think my low self-esteem allowed for the repeats, but my courage made me report it to the campus police. I was going to try it in court, but my great-aunt who I love and adore told me not to.  I met with the fraternity’s president and a school official. They told me he was expelled from his fraternity.

I was not able to find justice. I never will regret standing up. 

[itisreallyeasytobeafeminist]

A TEP Original: Camel Toes and Patriarchy

Something really stupid happened and I have to write about it. Written by Kalee Burrows. 

The other morning, I woke up with a clear agenda.  Wash my dishes, do my laundry, go for a run.  Pretty average day.  I planned to run at least five miles, so I took my usual route.  At mile four, I hit an intersection, so I had to wait for the pedestrian light to appear.  As I jogged in place, three men approached the crosswalk.  They had indistinct features and could’ve been anywhere between 25 to 45 years old.  I made eye contact with one of the men and then looked back to the road.  All the traffic lights were red, so I was just about to pick up speed and that’s when I heard one of the men say, “Nice camel toe.”

I was immediately filled with red hot anger.  Instinctively, I turned to look at the men and spat back a classy “Fuck you!” and bolted the scene.  I felt a lump in my throat and all I wanted to do was stop running.  Mere minutes later, I hit another intersection where I had to stop and wait for the lights to change.  A truck was stopped at the light, and I didn’t notice it but then I heard a booming voice echoing out of it, “Yeah, just keep running, babe!  I see you!”  Drenched in nauseating rage and embarrassment, I veered off my normal route, running away from it all. 

I was beyond frustrated and couldn’t shake it off.  I couldn’t focus on anything else but these men’s words.  I wanted to run and be invisible and left alone.  I hated that those stupid men made me feel that way.  So many thoughts cluttered my mind. What gives them the right to act this way?  Why did they say these things to me?  Are they trying to be funny?  Did anyone else hear?  Why is this a thing that still happens? 

I kept running, because I didn’t want to let those gross experiences ruin my run any more than they already had.  But once I got home, I couldn’t stop pacing around my apartment - I was still fuming.  I felt powerless.  What could I do?  They didn’t try to hurt me and I didn’t feel like I was in actual danger.  But I had a pit in my stomach.  To put it plainly, I was mad.  Running is an empowering activity for me.  It makes me feel strong, happy, relaxed.  And these men, they have no idea how their words affected me.  Within five minutes, these men made me feel insignificant.  They took something I loved and stomped it into the ground.  Why do they do this? 

Because they can.

It’s the same thing happening over and over again.  Men cat-calling to women waiting for the bus, a college bro at a bar invading a woman’s space, a stranger telling a woman in passing to smile.  These are little acts of patriarchy that happen every day - I’m sick of them.  They’re stupid and irritating and scary and exhausting.  There are some days when the patriarchy feels like a bag of bricks pushing on my chest, and there are other days when it feels more like a quick punch in the nose.  It’s suffocating, and it makes me sad.  I’m tired of “shaking it off” and “being the bigger person.”  No one should be allowed to make me uncomfortable in my own skin. 

I want to emphasize that we, as a people, must not accept this type of behavior.  We have the power to change how our peers are treated and the first step is raising awareness.  It’s important to share these types of experiences with people because it exposes the reality of inequality.  The more that people know, the more connected they are to the cause.  The personal becomes political. 

I want to see a change in our culture.  I want to feel safe, feel strong.  I want to run without worry.