socks and badgers*

Sometimes feminism is my knee-jerk reaction. Someone proclaims something as feminine, womanhood, womanly, girly, the role of women, female, gendered, masculine and I raise skeptic eyebrows and say, "Oh yeah?" But othertimes, one just can't help but want to poke one's eyes out over the subjugation of women during [and not exclusively to] the Middle Ages. Le Moyen Age, if you will. (I read Hroswitha for a class last semester and have been incensed ever since.)


Yesterday during the hours of muffin tin washings, plastered in glazed donut suds, staring at the blandly beige wall I contemplated the "place" of women in that bygone era and could not figure out why there wasn't mass rebellion. It wasn't just that I was treated as a person who had the wide world open to them regardless of gender/sex, I was born revolting against stereotypes. I refused to touch the color pink as a child. I mean really, really refused. If I had to wait ten minutes at craft time to use a pair of scissors that weren't pink, I would wait.


The thought train moved on to deciding I couldn't have been the only one born balking at social confines, especially gendered ones. --> We can't have been the only century to have balking babies born --> The "Dark" Ages must have had balks --> HOW DID THE STUPIDITY CONTINUE?!?


It took me a remarkably long time to remember that without education rebellion remains unorganized, rude, and accomplishes little but chips on shoulders attitudes.


Went home and listened to Aretha Franklin sing R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Have you ever listened closely enough to realize that it was originally written by Otis Redding but was made popular by Aretha in 1967 and that it was a LANDMARK kind of song for a woman to be singing? You go listen to it.


Felt much better after that.




P.S. Happy birthday Em-jon.
*Badger is a reference to what Rebecca Louise wrote today.