The Creepening – A Tipping Point

My first memory of thinking for myself politically and socially was the Anita Hill, I want to say “trial,” because that what it looked like to me. Really it was an inquiry into the history of Supreme Court nominee and later (like in the next day or two) justice, Clarence Thomas. My grandfather, in a few ways a “deplorable,” had choice things to say about Anita Hill’s credibility, gender, and race. Some of the rare epithets he used were epic and never repeatable. But I couldn’t help but find her very cool and credible under questioning of that nature. Also very smart and patient with a cadre of old white sexist pigs. We used to call them chauvinists.

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Not at all an intimidating setup. 

Although her testimony was considered a “watershed moment” by Time magazine and others, the discussion seemed to stall out and then we were on to the whole witch-burning that was the Monica Lewinsky mess. In fact the 90s and early 00s was the age of “I’m not a feminist, but . . .” statements. Among the few girlfriends I had the party line was “While acceptable to acknowledge that things are difficult for us as women, don’t get all political about it.” In other words, lean on your sisters for support, but don’t join forces and try to change things in an activist manner.

It’s truly remarkable that it’s taken this long for us to circle back around to the pervasive problem of how men treat women and how the powerful exploit anyone they can. An awesome history prof in college announced to us one day that the Internet would change the world in ways couldn’t predict.

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Not with all the monkeys and typewriters in the world. 

A positive consequence is the way in which all people can have access to one another and we now truly have a public forum to tell our similar and awful stories. As amazing Aspie Malcolm Gladwell writes in The Tipping Point:

“If you want to bring a fundamental change in people’s belief and behavior…you need to create a community around them, where those new beliefs can be practiced and expressed and nurtured.”

This particular tipping point is about behavior, obviously. The belief being nurtured at the moment is “Women are credible and this shit happens all the time.” We are expressing our outrage at the sexually exploitative culture that has been protected and ignored. What need to practice is communication and empathy. We need to shuffle off the silence. Due diligence is very important, but numbers don’t lie even if you think women do.

I have this gut feeling that the Cosby exposure was a precursor to the Weinstein thing.  Recent documentaries like The Hunting Ground (campus assault), The Invisible War (assault in the military), Audrie & Daisy (assault in high school) have shined a bright and honest light on the pervasiveness of what has been going on this whole fucking time. And they’re available on Netflix so they’ve reached a wide audience. Enough exposés in print media have covered sexual harassment and assault in various milieus like national parks, the cannabis industry, state legislatures, and media outlets too numerous to link. Yeah, bitches can be crazy but that dysfunction you are seeing is the consequence of a good percentage of the population quietly dealing with trauma and deep disrespect on a daily basis. It wears you down and makes you mistrustful. So does the gas-lighting.

Well-publicized trials of rapists have also flooded the news in the past couple of years. Rapists who don’t get much of a comeuppance. Brock Turner, the (white) Vanderbilt gang rapists, Bill Cosby, Roman Polanski, Donald Trump, Bill Clinton – there’s a long list of people who have yet to face the music for their actions and the subsequent cover up of those actions.

And now there’s a simmering resentment even among women who have been apolitical. The Creepening will become the Reckoning.

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Pictured: ain’t havin’ it anymore

These last few months have been harrowing even if you’ve never personally experienced any kind of harassment or discrimination. How many men I admire will break my heart? Which means it’s been rough for nearly every woman on the planet because it’s a rare women who doesn’t have a few stories. I talk to women who claim they’ve never had anything bad happen to them, but then they’ll tell me about “this one time” when a situation got really weird and it messed them up for a while or they lost an opportunity.

The Women’s March marked the official start of a new wave of feminism. One that, hopefully, will change some policies and attitudes for the better. One that addresses the intersectional difficulties of the multiply oppressed. I’m no idealist who thinks that perfect equity (different from equality) is achievable. Human beings are also naked sex monkeys who are hardwired to assert dominance over one another and establish hierarchies. I don’t see that changing any time soon; in fact, it will be our downfall and the reason we will never populate the stars. ( . . . find new life and new civilizations.)

This time is important, but I can’t help wondering if it will peter out with only minor changes. Here’s hoping it doesn’t.

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How neurotypical women are a huge problem for autistic women

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What a friggin’ weirdo!

For most of my life I have been an observer of normal girls and women in order to figure out a way to not make them uncomfortable and perhaps even make a friend or two. I typically fail at this.

 

Most autistic women, regardless of where they are on the spectrum, have the same problems with neurotypical women: they don’t like us and find us confusing and very annoying. This results in bullying, gossip, and subsequent shunning. You become a pariah and a ghost at the same time.

I’ve always been the first to admit that, whether one can help it or not, it’s not cool to make other people uncomfortable. Annoying is annoying. This is a main reason autistic people isolate themselves. After so many failed attempts at forming connections with peers, we give up and would rather avoid the criticism and pain. But we need a supportive network of relationships and validation just like any other human, even if it’s more difficult for us.

Around the turn of the century, I thought I had finally met a group of women who would accept or at least tolerate me. While some of them liked me, others in the group, let’s call them the “Gin Tuesday Ladies,” were less enthused about me being included in their boozy gatherings. No matter how hard I try to be normal and engage with NT women, I never get it quite right, I inadvertently say things that are inappropriate, I trample their boundaries, and my reactions and interests are not acceptable. I don’t get them any more than they get me. Eventually, I’ll do something that is either misconstrued or a deal-breaker and it hurts horribly every fucking time.

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Dammit – not again.

Most spectrum women have the same problems as I do with normie women and girls.  When I began reading about the consequences of oppression and the gender expectations applied to women, the reasons for this sad pattern began to come into focus.

It’s no big secret that little girls and little boys are socialized differently. The result of this is that men define themselves by what they are good at and the content of their character; women are defined by their relationships and who they are on the surface – both physically and socially. Aspie women are amazingly accurate observers of typical females. This increased ability to “figure out” how to behave and show empathy is NOT because our neurology is significantly different from the guys and we are born with better social aptitude. (This is matter of great contention.)

Being kind and socially adept is the culturally imposed core of female identity. Aspie women systematically study how to converse and help others like our lives depend on it – because as women our survival does depend on our ability to conform to social norms and build relationships.

Isolation puts women at significantly greater risk – physically, emotionally, financially.

So how women and girls are supposed to look and act is very proscribed and enforced – by our families, teachers, peers, the media, and especially other women. For instance, the phrase “She think she cute.” The biggest faux pas a woman can make is admitting out loud that she considers herself smart or attractive. Men can brag on themselves (See Donald Trump, Kanye West) and not suffer consequences, but women have to be consistently self-deprecating. Women get their hackles up when they see another woman bucking the system and deviating from our acceptable roles (See Hillary Clinton.) Self-esteem is OK; ego is verboten.

Autistic women don’t care for gender conformity. We can’t see the sense in it. We don’t recognize arbitrary psycho-social constructions. In fact, I’ve always been able to perceive that the nasty things women do to one another is a result of how we are shit on as women in general. Boys are taught to stand up for themselves, express anger, and confront people who give them problems. Girls are taught to be unfailingly agreeable, say the right things, and never openly show negative or assertive emotions.

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Just read this.

We’re don’t feel free to confront one another about differences and disagreements. We are allowed to judge, sabotage, shun, and be passive-aggressive. Women bully one another in different ways and tend to keep the girls they don’t like in their social groups because – well, I’m still figuring that one out. It’s complicated.

 

I’ve totally fallen out of favor with the Gin Tuesday Ladies, just like in every other group I’ve tried to join. (Hence the title of this blog.) On our closed-group Facebook page I called out a member for being historically harsh to me about my mental illness and differences. She is an extremely neurotypical woman and I’ve always known that she’s not crazy about me. I’ve learned to spot “shade” when it’s thrown in my direction and she’s tossed a metric shit-ton of it.

The final straw for her was when I had a meltdown at a restaurant where we were both employed. While at the time I didn’t understand why I totally lost it and yelled at a table of genuine deplorables at the end of an insanely busy night, I do understand why she and the other Tuesday Ladies were upset about it. I was a liability to the organization they worked for. I was giving the place a bad reputation and potentially scaring away business and their tips. As usual, I apologized profusely to them.

After that incident, I sought an explanation for my emotional and behavioral problems and involuntary meltdowns. I was (incorrectly) diagnosed as having bipolar disorder. One evening we were both at the Gin Tuesday Ladies’ meeting place, The Gherkin Jar, and none of the other Ladies were there. Begrudgingly, and because women in the same groups are obligated to try to get along, we sat and had a conversation. It consisted of me attempting to explain how having “bipolar disorder” made it difficult to control my emotions, be less annoying, and act more normal and her shooting me down. She was kind enough to hear me out, but she was pretty condemning of mentally ill people in general. She didn’t understand why I couldn’t just get over it and handle my shit like an adult. She said all the typical things that reflect the stigma that those with neurodevelopmental conditions and mental illnesses face.

That conversation cemented for me the pervasive awfulness of that stigma.

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Now she works with the mentally ill, and, to her credit I suppose, raises money for NAMI, the National Alliance on Mental Illness. (Please donate if you can.) But she hurt me deeply and things were never the same after that. The Ladies pulled away from me and I from them. I became more aware of how many of them thought of me as a freak to be tolerated because our de facto leader, Denise, saw something special in me. But I noticed none of them reached out or seemed to connect to me like they did with one another. A common enough trend in my life. I was so embarrassed for myself that I never attempted to fix these friendships. I wouldn’t even know how.

You see the irony of her career choice, though. I sincerely hope she has a better opinion of people who struggle with invisible disorders and mental conditions. Unsolicited apologies are nice, but rare. I have to admit I’ve not looked at the Facebook replies yet from the other women in the group. Too chickenshit at the moment. I don’t want to ruin my day because I have this feeling that they will not have my back – they’ll have hers because she’s central to the clique and I’ve drifted away.

Like defends like. Neurotypical women have a tendency to gang up on eccentric women with poor social skills. When I build up the courage to see what they said, I’ll certainly post an update.

 

 

 

 

 

Is it OK to “suffer from autism”?

Are we wasting time on semantics debates in the autism community?

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I’ve just finished plowing through a bunch of articles on the use of certain terms in the autism community that seem to set off flame wars on a regular basis. For instance, the person-first language debate between “person with autism” vs. “autistic person.” Parents often prefer the former and autistic people (obviously those retaining the power of speech) prefer the latter. Parents are concerned that if people refer to their kids as “being” autistic rather than “having” it, their identity as people with dignity will be infringed upon. Autistic people feel that autism is not a disease, but a much-needed identity in a world that has socially denied them a clear one.

But this article is not about that.

Autistic people suffer both directly and indirectly from the consequences of autism.

Recently, an autistic friend of mine wrote an article that mentioned the phrase “suffers from autism” as being insulting. Is it controversial? Yes. After all, it made me begin to think unceasingly (as I do) about autism and suffering. While I understand that much of the bullshit autistic people and their loved ones have to endure is due to living in a world that is uninformed, unsympathetic, and unaccommodating, a lot of it for some if us is a direct result of the condition itself. Autistic people do suffer; both directly and indirectly from the consequences of autism.

Some examples from my own experience might clarify this. A great deal of my personal suffering is because of the way the world misunderstands autistic people. Especially before I finally diagnosed myself at almost 40 year old. I was isolated as a child because teachers don’t have time to help out a kid who’s not fitting in. I was bullied because pre-Columbine, there was not much traction for anti-bullying programs or activism. Such that I only complained to a few adults before stopping altogether. I was always lectured by these adults on being sensitive to the struggles of those who were harassing me – “Her parents are going through a divorce.” – “He has a tough home life.” – “That’s just how his parents raised him.” My struggle was never the priority because adults simply didn’t want to put forth the effort to address a sticky, but far more serious than they suspected, “childhood problem.” I suppose they thought it would be over in a short number of years, but adults on the spectrum know that bullying only escalates after the school years are over and the stakes are much higher.

Clearly these difficulties are due to a lack of understanding and accommodation – including my own gross misdiagnosis for so many decades.

We mustn’t allow arguments over words and internecine debates to obscure the most urgent problems we face.

But we have to remember that autism is not just a mental condition – it affects many other systems of the body and this seems to be a little known fact in the wider world. As a young adult my mind was screaming to be released from the shallow neurotypical facade I had forced myself to produce due to the constant prodding from influences both personal and cultural. This led to increased gastro-intestinal issues which resulted in my being in extreme pain because I was digesting my own esophagus with severe acid reflux.

I suffered.

Years after this problem was resolved, I began to feel a little twinge of sharp pain in the end of my pinkie finger. I tried to ignore it but the pain kept increasing over time and eventually I was having nerve paroxysms so severe that the upper right half of my body was useless, the tendons in my neck and shoulder froze, and still no one could identify what the problem was – when they believed me about the pain at all, of course. Finally, through a charity organization (no health care) I was able to see a hand specialist.

I care less about the semantics and culturally-loaded terms used to describe ourselves and more about discussing the degree of suffering itself.

I had an exceedingly rare type of neuroma made up of an overgrowth of sensory nerves in my extremities. They tend to occur at the base of the skull, on the tympanic membrane, and under finger and toenails – anywhere there is a high concentration of sensory nerves. I don’t need to tell you that there is a direct connection to neuropathy and conditions of the sensory nerves in autistic people. This type of tumor is so rare that there has been little research on it and therefore it is not known if they occur more in autistic individuals, but several other members of my family on the spectrum have had rare nerve tumors in other parts of their bodies that caused extreme pain and required surgeries.

I can’t go into detail here about the excruciating five year process I went through, all the while unable to work or bathe regularly or function, in order to get these tumors removed. In addition to the other consequences of being mentally misdiagnosed. My fingernail had to be excised several times and the microsurgery performed to remove the overgrown nerve cluster required weeks of recovery every time. I’ve never found another medical description that emphasizes the quality of the pain of a condition like this one does. Most request the amputation of their fingertips and require psychological consultations for the mental effects of chronic pain. As did I.

 

So again, I really suffered. Clearly I have no problem with this phrase in reference to myself.

But is it OK for non-autistic people to refer to someone as “suffering from autism”? Perhaps not, but I’m a bit jaded after all this time. I care less about the semantics and culturally-loaded terms used to describe ourselves and more about discussing the degree of suffering itself.

One day we will learn to ride the delicate line between pathologizing and romanticizing autistic people.

I know from having met and loved many other autistic people throughout my life that they have some of the most hair-raising personal stories of any group of people. It’s worth noting that most of the popular books written by autistic adults are by those who have seemingly been more successful and supported than the majority. Far be it from me to get bogged down in the Comparative Suffering Olympics that stymie special interest groups from time to time – See white feminists vs. feminists of color. However, the autistics who are the most marginalized, impoverished, and challenged are rarely the ones with the support network and means to get their stories written and published and promoted. 

I don’t want to continue to gloss over the horrible experiences of autistic people. I want us to collect and share our stories with one another and the wider world.

Therefore, we are having our tales of injustice and medical malpractice buried along with our unique perspectives. I know as a woman and sexual assault victim (another loaded word I have no problem using), that those who want to maintain the status quo and not go to the trouble of understanding us or helping change the world to accommodate and protect us, want us to just shut up about our suffering. In fact, the demonization of the word “victim” is an example of that. When we tell our stories we are accused of “being victims” in order to defame us as being “too sensitive.” Assholes don’t want to acknowledge that broken institutions and predators cause great suffering for people of different demographics and circumstances. They definitely don’t want you going into the details of your ordeal to bring a personal, human face to certain societal issues.

This is an invitation to silence that must shouted over.

I don’t want to continue to gloss over the horrible experiences of autistic people. I want us to collect and share our stories with one another and the wider world. The disabled and neurodiverse are the most impoverished demographic in America – indeed in the world. We are the most sexually assaulted and exploited.  We are still fighting for jobs, reasonable medical treatments, and accommodations. We are dealing with stigma and fear. We are even gunned down by police regardless of race. Semantics can go on the back burner as far as I’m concerned.

One day we will learn to ride the delicate line between pathologizing and romanticizing autistic people, but we mustn’t allow arguments over words and internecine debates to obscure the most urgent problems we face.

Not Every Leonard Gets a Penny

The difficulties of befriending autistic men.

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Since discovering that I have been on the spectrum without knowing it my entire life, I have redigested my past like fetid, fermented cow’s cud. The most disturbing part of this process was realizing that so many of the people who were naturally drawn to me and vice versa were also unidentified neurodiverse individuals. Birds of a feather and all.

I know now that the majority of the men I have been involved with for any length of time are likely Aspies. All those relationships were a confusing disaster. When not one but both people in a relationship have communication disorders, intimacy issues, mental illnesses, and are unaware of it, it’s not going to work out and you won’t know why.

I’ve dated a particle physicist (long before Sheldon was created), a renowned author of books on philosophy, a brilliant glass artisan, and a professional classical guitarist. Very talented dudes. But they were all super-annoying after a short while, as am I when trying to navigate dating in the darkness of self-ignorance. These romances were quick to fizzle.

However, the consequences of spending time with and befriending men on the spectrum who you are not romantically or sexually interested in are dire as well.

Why? Several reasons:

  1. Crushes and the subsequent rejection feel far more powerful to us than they do to neurotypicals. All emotions feel much more powerful, and unrequited interest is one of the most hurtful and embarrassing experiences for anyone. Spectrum people have been rejected over and over in their lives and have very fragile self-images. A broken heart can derail us for a long time and lead to terrifying meltdowns and suicidal ideation. There’s a lot of talk about the obsessive, proscribed interests of Aspies, but crushes are also in that category. We can be utterly consumed by an interest in a subject, object(s), or person.
  2. Kindness and social chit-chat are often misinterpreted as romantic interest. I have only three modes for talking to people no matter who they are: Golden Retriever, visiting lecturer, and cold fish. Like most Aspies I have difficulty with both interpreting and expressing finely tuned emotions. When I am very attracted (mentally and physically) to someone, my brain, without any input from me, will choose to interpret his words and expressions as him returning that interest. Then my imagination goes to work and I can’t focus, even though I really want to, on anything else until I know for certain how he feels about me. I build a future with this person in my mind and fall in love with my anticipation. This has led to some mutually humiliating incidents for which I am not proud. I know how devastating this feels and I don’t want to inflict this on anyone else.

Here you are being ignored and rejected for so long and then you meet a pretty girl who is more like yourself than anyone you’ve ever met. It’s easy to feel like a relationship with her is owed to you after all the pain you’ve had to endure.

3. Aspies have difficulty reading subtle, polite expressions of disinterest from the people we get crushes on. When the shoe is on the other foot and I am the one who is not interested in someone on the spectrum, I have no idea how to discourage him without humiliating him and dealing with the consequences of that. I had a wonderful friend for a long time who is on the spectrum (and unaware of it). I tried every subtle conversational way I could without being “mean” or very explicit to tell him that I was not interested and never would be. He just couldn’t figure it out. Every time I tried to set a boundary (“No, you can’t stay over,” “Stop using my yeast infection cream on your psoriasis.”), he had a petulant meltdown. We are estranged now. If there is any way to let an Aspie down without hurting and humiliating him with the degree of clarity that is necessary for him to get the message, I am all ears.

4. Entertainment media has given Asper-dudes (and men in general) unrealistic expectations. If you’ve looked into feminism at all, you’ve heard that media doesn’t portray women’s wants, wishes, or preferences all that realistically. The hero always gets the girl as a reward for his effort and hardship regardless of what her opinion might be, no matter what they look like, how much money they make, or how troublesome they are. And everyone is the hero of their own story. In most sitcoms, video games, movies, and books the male underdog miraculously gets the femme fatale.

This is not real life. Part of it is a double standard in how we expect to choose one another. It’s not considered out of the question for an unattractive, awkward man to bag a very attractive woman on TV shows or in movies, but not the other way around. Men expect that they will attract a woman that they find visually appealing even if she’s a ten and he’s a four (even with money). They feel they are entitled to a princess whether they’re a prince or not.

Women are not the gatekeepers of sexual justice. Even if we have a lot in common with a guy and even if we are also on the spectrum, that does not obligate us to become romantically involved if we don’t want to be. However, I understand how guys feel. Here you are being ignored and rejected for so long and then you meet a pretty girl who is more like yourself than anyone you’ve ever met. It’s easy to feel like a relationship with her is owed to you after all the pain you’ve had to endure. It’s finally your turn for love and sexual intimacy.

I’ve known men so downtrodden for being nerdy and so determined to convince me that they deserve me, that I’ve handed out some sad pity-fucks in my time. I was pressured to be with men I wasn’t attracted to even after I made my wishes known. Since they were so like-minded I was afraid if I didn’t, I would lose my friend forever and friends are hard for me to find and keep. Especially ones who understand me.

I’ve already taken a few for the team and never plan to do so again.

5. Aspie women don’t necessarily have the ability or desire to look after another autistic person. When I was dating my last boyfriend, who was by far the one most on the spectrum of any other, my sister said something about us that stuck with me:

Two wrongs don’t make a right.

Harsh, sis. I’m not suggesting that relationships between two autistic people are doomed or impossible. A great deal of study needs to be done on how some if us successfully navigate relationships and differentiate from neurotypical couples and families. Many of us would rather be with someone else on the spectrum.

I need someone to pick up my mess and help me. Most spectrum men I have known have the same deficits as I do, so our skill sets are not complementary.

However, I am not high-functioning. I am smart, extremely verbal, and very good at masking my autism for short periods of time. This leads people to assume that I am doing alright and don’t need much day-to-day support and that I can take on the hectic responsibilities of a nearly neurotypical woman. But I’ve experienced a lot of trauma in my life, physically and mentally, and I’ve developed a co-morbid mental illness from the destructive effects of not knowing what I was or how to keep myself healthy and safe.

My place is a wreck. I can never sleep or keep to a regular routine. My executive function is so low that I often get appointments and work schedules and due dates mixed up. And birthdays and names and faces. I forget to shower and eat when I need to, even when I really go out of my way to try. I have very little patience for other people, especially if they are co-habitating with me. I am set in my annoying ways and don’t like other people in my personal space. I still struggle to get though my day and I don’t even have a job. I have been sexually and socially traumatized, and my brain is wired to deeply mistrust men. I have scary meltdowns like any other autistic person.

I’m medium-functioning I guess, but my life would improve immensely with a personal assistant and a cleaning lady once a week. And a career and respect and understanding.

These are the reasons why I can’t take over the executive function, chauffeuring, and house-cleaning duties that the wives of Aspie men are often expected to perform. Even if you are also an Aspie woman, those tasks will more often than not end up being yours. I need someone to pick up my mess and help me. Most spectrum men I’ve known have the same deficits as I do, so our skill sets are not complementary. And I’ll be damned if I’m going to be his new mom. That’s reality.

I don’t want to disappoint and embarrass well-meaning, sweet guys on the spectrum, so I unfortunately have to keep the single ones at a remove, socially and often physically.

I hope the other lonely hearts will understand.

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Why did white women vote for Trump?

Women are still encouraged to oppress themselves.

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This is what self-oppression looks like.

Since the Election of Doom prominent liberals have expressed shock and dismay at the 53% of white women who voted for Trump. Tina Fey sort of joked, “A lot of this election was turned by white, college-educated women who now would like to forget about this election and go back to watching HGTV.” Samantha Bee told white women they “have a lot of karma to work off.” And Lena Dunham lib-splained on The View that white women are “not only voting against the interests of their sisters, of women who may not look like them, who they may not understand, but whose rights are just as important,” but also “voting against their own best interest.”

And they’re totally right, even about HGTV.  The nesting instinct is strong in them.

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When some of the ladies pushed back at Lena’s scolding she, to her credit, said:

“So many women aren’t raised with the rhetoric of self-empowerment. The messages they’re hearing from Donald Trump may be similar to the messages they’ve heard from their fathers, their brothers, their husbands. They haven’t been given the message that they do matter.”

Absolutely. Lena can be a bit artless, but her aim is true.

I live in the Deep Dirty South. Southeast Tennessee, an hour and 45 minutes drive north of Atlanta. One of my friends lives next door to snake handlers and it only takes 50 minutes to drive to my house in the burbs. Suburbs that are getting increasingly poorer and filled with people who are overworked, bullied and getting an average of $9 or $10 an hour.

There are no services here. No affordable daycare, no good mental health services or treatment centers for drug abuse, which is rife. There’s not an abortion provider within a 200 mile radius of where I live and schools still teach the oppressive lessons of abstinence-only education. Churches are everywhere, but not very accepting of people’s differences and struggles at all. Medicaid wasn’t expanded here and I fall in the gap since I have decided not to have children. Only mothers get help- and not much of it. The courts fight hard to not give people any type of disability or financial support when they need it. It’s an $8/hour town and everyone serves the tourists and gentrifiers. A trace of weed will put you in one of the worst private jails in the country.

 

This is why it’s so interesting for me to watch the rest of the country collectively plotz over losing rights I’ve never known! It’s all academic to me. Planned Parenthood might get defunded? I’ve never even seen one! Free women’s health services are scarce and/or underground here. All the “clinics” are propaganda studios set up to look like helpful people. They aren’t. We have a lot of Catholic-run hospitals too.

Lots of pundits immediately took a strongly worded stance against the working-class poor who supposedly ushered him into office. No one was surprised to see certain types of men in certain states vote for a human molotov cocktail, but coastal feminists seemed deeply shocked that educated (and not particularly poor) white women sold themselves out so enthusiastically.

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I am Jack’s complete lack of surprise.

I remained extremely, delusionally hopeful that Hillary, as much as I dreaded HER=>, was in the lead. I even felt a strangely nice, proud, floaty feeling for about five hours and went to see my mom and tell her I just voted for the first woman president – in America, that is. I felt the relief that many of us did after we cast our fateful votes in November.

BUT . . .

I was born and raised in the South and, as Dave Chappelle says, “I know the whites!” For instance:

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At least they give each other orgasms down here.

I don’t actually know if Mount Pleasant is in the South, but that pretty much sums up the attitude people take towards those who, “don’t live their lives the right way.” I live next door to two old farts who are “one issue voters,” namely, the abortion issue. They also hate gays with a fiery vehemence that can quickly sour the meals my family occasionally invites them to. These are people who strictly limit the amount of time their grandchildren can visit – to almost never. It’s great fun.

And they sure as hell ain’t poor. But I have a feeling that these radical views are mostly the wife’s thing. Projected shame is still a sport for many bitter women.

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This woman would get more votes.

In a nutshell, women down in America’s steamy under-carriage haven’t been woke yet, and are still unable to see the conventions that bind them. It’s no guarantee that every woman who even goes to college will “encounter” the right reading material or social awareness groups.

More insidiously, there persists a culture of religious sexual shaming coupled with highly sexualized media. Women are still under-represented in positions of power and are socialized to compete with perceived scarce resources among themselves. Gender expectations remain very binary in red states. Only two years ago I still thought of myself as only competent enough to do secretary-like work.

When oppressed women (who don’t know they’re oppressed) see a woman like Hillary Clinton who “thinks she’s all that” while genuinely being a deeply flawed candidate “get above herself” they will balk and gladly vote for a buffoon who only reflects the same sexist attitudes the men they love possess. Add in all the years of Fox News explaining how Hillary is the worst human female to ever stride about in public discourse, and you’ve got a bunch of women who are going to vote along with their husbands for Trump despite any “locker room talk.”

The more misinformed you are, the more likely you are to be unable to see the various types of discrimination that affect you personally.

While I have not been able to find any  numbers on the percentage of single (or divorced, widowed, or gay) women who voted for Trump over Hillary, most post-election articles site these stats:

 

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The differences in education are important and clear, but what they indicate under the surface, where most female oppression takes place, is that education is important for women to have so they can “have their consciousnesses raised” as our Boomer feminist forebears would say. A lack of education in a woman’s life leads to increased financial dependence on traditional gender roles. In other words, the less educated you are, the more likely you are to be unable to see the various types of discrimination that affect you personally. (It’s interesting to note that more non-educated black women voted for Clinton than educated black women.)

Rather than blaming less educated, older, and married women for putting Trump in office, we need to publicly acknowledge that women are intimately oppressed in America to a degree that drastically affects our elections as well as other American institutions.

Review: Men Explain Things to Me by Rebecca Solnit

In recognition of the Super Sunday victories of Hillary and Donald Dumpf, I finally read Men Explain Things to Me by Rebecca Solnit. The title is but one of the essays in this collection of musings about the status of women as we stand today – all around the world as well as in America. But it was this one that got my dander up the most because she addresses the basic nature of the “war of the sexes.” We tend to compartmentalize different women’s issues into separate institutions and causes. Domestic violence, all manner of rape and harassment, as well as reproductive freedom should be addressed as stemming from the root issues we don’t hear about: credibility and agency.

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Not ad agency.

 Credibility is the crazy idea that a woman’s word should be taken as legitimate before it is run through a barrage of doubtful questions. Solnit writes that she once had a dinner with a boyfriend’s father. He told of an incident in his neighborhood (in Oak Ridge, TN apparently) when a neighbor’s wife ran into the street naked one night screaming that her husband was trying to kill her. He was merely bemused. Mrs. Solnit asked how he knew her husband wasn’t trying to kill her and he explained that they were simply respectable people. So, to him, the more credible possibility was that the woman was crazy.

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Don’t google “crazy woman meme”

If you or anyone you know has been sexually assaulted or harassed on the job, most of the battle towards justice is getting authorities to believe you. Even your first brave outcry is met with questions about the nature of your relationship with the offender and whether you have a boyfriend or husband. Apparently cops think women are prone to crying rape after a consensual encounter so their partners won’t get mad if they find out.

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Seems convoluted.

“Credibility is a basic

survival tool.”

-R.  Solnit

 

But on a less extreme level, “Men explain things to me, and other women, whether or not they know what they are talking about. Some men.” Every time I am in a discussion with men about a man subject – such as policy, religion, or science fiction/fact – I have a creeping feeling that most are biding time before they can speak again and they have gone to whatever white noise space in their giant heads they go to when a woman opines. That is, after I have yelled them down enough to listen to me. Frequently they don’t care for my sass.

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This witch doth know her shit. Devilry!

My least favorite man-phrase is “Okay. Hmmm. I’ll buy that.” As if I am possibly selling some sort of snake oil instead of describing a lucid idea – or the truth as I know it. As Solnit succinctly writes, ” . . . I objected to the behavior of a man only to be told that the incidents hadn’t happened at all like I said, that I was subjective, delusional, overwrought, dishonest – in a nutshell, female.” Add strident, shrill, and harping to that list whenever we have a complaint. Any complaint. (Whereas “to hold forth” is a very masculine action verb.)  She calls this an “invitation to silence.”

The best way to maintain the silence of women is by destroying their rights as sovereign beings. Agency is the notion that women own themselves, body and mind, and have the means to be heard and advocate for themselves. We should have enough power in society to be able to change things for ourselves. Right now we do not.

A fabulous documentary with a lot of super kick-ass ladies like Katie Couric, Gloria Steinem, Margaret Cho, Gina Davis, et al. is Miss Representation.  It exposes how mainstream media contribute to the massive under-representation of women in positions of power and influence in America. We are 51% of the population and 17% of our lawmakers. (And the laid back not-quite-half of SCOTUS).

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I can’t do everything for you!

When you understand what having agency means, a lot of touchy issues become a little more clear. Take abortion and reproductive rights. The touchiest. No matter what choice a woman does or does not make about becoming a mother, an unwanted pregnancy is fucking terrifying. If you will be bearing the brunt of the expense and insanity a new human brings with it into the world, knowing what we all do about the state of employment and benefits for single women, you are staring down a problem that will cause heartbreak no matter what happens.

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Hang in there! I’m making a point!

That’s the reality. We are never going to “solve” abortion. All women need to understand that if you limit another woman’s agency in one arena of society you erode it on every level. Even though anti-choice activists fervently believe they are saving a pregnant woman (or child) from their own bad decisions and future regret,  they are still stealing her ability to control the course of the life that belongs to her. I am a woman of faith (a Christian faith *gasp*) and firmly believe that free will is ordained by God.

Is it not?

The laws they advocate for strip our rights as a whole. No man will ever have an abortion or a baby. Of all the issues that women should control in the legislative body, this is the only that is exclusive to us. But men and the misguided women who work with them are robbing women I know of health care services in all respects.

Alright. Enough of that.

Here I will mention a recent silencing. The women (and men) who were targets of the #Gamergate harassment campaign are being silenced through raw fear for their lives. The threat of violence is frequently as limiting and life destroying as violence itself. That these sorts of coordinated attacks are never as aggressively investigated and prosecuted as other actions which directly harm a person, is either a massively stupid interpretation of what free speech means or we’ve still got a really long way to go, baby.  (#Gamergate is still officially referred to as a “controversy” by the way).

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Here’s an example of the shit scared guys say.

Again, any sensible woman would understand the seriousness of using the vast influence of inconnectivity to destroy a person’s safety, livelihood, and participation in a chosen field. But we are not, for the most part, the gender who decides what laws are needed to keep us safe and healthy.

It seems to make no sense. It does not compute.

“One of the most radical things you can do is to actually believe women when they talk about their experiences.”

-Anita Sarkeesian,

of the Feminist Frequency

 

But I have digressed. Rebecca Solnit’s essay collection is an amazing introduction for anyone (especially an ally) who is wondering why feminism is now necessary and won’t stop growing anytime soon.

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She’s pretending to be an intellectual. How charming!