mox·ie
(mks)

“The mechanics of oppressing people is to pervert them to the extent that they become instruments of their own oppression”
-Kumasi

What’s the number word used in marketing for young girls?  Love. And for boys?  Battle….. sighhhh.

As I have grown up, I’ve always been obsessed with love.  I’m not talking about the peacemaking kind that changes the world (though I love that too) but the romantic, Disney princess, chick flick, perfect first date story, lineage of happily married family members who I look up to kind of love.  Over and over again, I ask my parents to tell me their love stories, to hear the glorious moments that have mapped out their relationships so that I can build a map of my own to find my perfect husband!  Recently I think that I was socialized and subverted to a very narrow definition of the kind of romantic relationship that I want.  As I have been drawn into this romantic fantasy land, it’s been in many ways very classist, racist, heteronormative, elitist, ableist  and yet at the core of my every hope and desire.  No one ever expected that I’d have to confront my romance ideals as a feminist.  The search that’s been a priority in my life is everything but complementary to how I’ve grown to understand myself as a feminist.  And it’s really hard to shake.  I’ve been taught and happily embraced striving for a man well groomed to become the perfect, handsome head of my life.  It’s damaging because when I encounter these men I end up despising them. And when I meet men who some part of me really connects with or who I really want to be with in some way I’m scared of actually being attracted to someone who isn’t this perfect patriarchal American man.

When I think of ways to reshape my social constructions of what intimate relationships would look like, I’m really afraid! To redefine something so crucial to my gender identity, my femininity, my culture, and how I’ve envisioned my future and myself is horrifying.   Like, terrifying. Young people are socialized into what romance and love and family looks like very early in life.  I do not see much work at all to try to fix this and I wonder how my own life would be different if I weren’t taught to look for a prince.

<<<<< odd play

This past week was s-e-x week.  GASP!! We pondered the topic of what it meant to be sexually liberated.  Initially, I was excited.  Surely I could stay awake in our three hour discussion if it were about sex and I did get a kick out of telling my mom that I was going to a sex museum.  However, I didn’t really like the museum, or discussing the topic, or watching this really strange one man play we went to go see about a man’s life after he became addicted to porn at the age of eleven.  The main character (only character) wore no pants the entire play, was really sweaty the whole time, and about seventy-five percent of the script was made up of offensive pornographic film titles.  Most of the girls remarked on how displeased I looked the entire time and even when I did want to smile just for the sake of being a good theater participant, I couldn’t.

No definitions for sexual liberation really suited me that we came up with and I found myself so critical about the topic that I hardly wanted to contribute to group discussion. Personally, I feel like sex is a very private matter.  So this week I really felt like the personal became political…and uncomfortably so.  It’s not like we were sitting in a circle talking about fantasies and sexual encounters, but when it comes to what sexual liberation looks like mine is completely different from yours. And it’s personal.  But it’s political too. SIGH. If this were anything less important I would certainly brush it off.  Because sex is so closely linked to health, human rights, and a long spectrum of gender based violence that I am committed to ending, I just can’t give up that easily.  But here’s my question.  Is there a way to talk about the political without talking about the personal?

One week and over a third of my summer budget later…. I’m officially concerned for myself.  Yepp! The summer’s eight-week budget is almost completely annihilated with an entire seven weeks left. Ugh!!! I’m so financially immature.  It’s disappointing and it’s scary.

A couple things scare me most.

Growing up I always had the privilege of not having to worry about money.  More than I would like to admit, I took money for granted.  It’s problematic for many reasons.  Aside from the headache of my current bank statement, I am so anxious lately that the kind of non-profit work that I have always been passionate about is far from lucrative.  I hate that money is such a concern.  I’m literally terrified of the joy I have at work sitting at my desk of a non-profit social movement. What to do in this capitalist consumer society when my dream doesn’t look like it could ever afford me the American dream?

Speaking with Merle Hoffman of Choices clinic did give me some perspective.  As the owner of a women’s health clinic that offers everything from abortions to family planning services, Hoffman is at the front line of women’s reproductive rights– and she DOESN’T do it for free! As we spoke with Merle she helped us realize that women really are socialized into into thinking that to want money is out of place for us.  As women, we have been told to serve, not wanting profit in return but fulfillment of our intrinsic desire that comes from a nurturing heart. Money is power, so it’s not terribly difficult to see how this would make sense.

Is my love for the grassroots non-profit field a product of patriarchal brainwashing?  Am I just a naive 20 year old who just doesn’t know how to budget?  Is NYC just really freaking expensive? Since I should probably sit down and not spend anymore money for the rest of the summer, I’ll have lots more time to think about this.   Now accepting donations… just kidding 🙂

Sarah is a rising junior interning with Hollaback this summer.

My name is Sarah and I am super excited for these next two months of my life.  What lies ahead sounds almost too good to be true.  This summer I will be living it up in New York City.  I’m 20. I have cool roommates, friends in the city, and an awesome opportunity to actualize my commitment to women’s social justice. The highlight of my upcoming life- an internship at Hollaback!  I have been talking about this all summer, mostly to my elders, and so I have gotten used to this clarification, “Yes Holla like– H-O-L-L-A”

Hollaback is an international movement to end street harassment.  Determined that catcalling, stalking, unasked for groping, and other forms of gender-violence in public places had lasted long enough- Hollaback unveils the unacceptable in what is accepted.   The heart of the movement is giving an audience to the people who are being harassed with the opportunity to share their experiences through social media– letting the world know that we won’t be silenced by street harassment and those who have been harassed know that they are not alone!

Anyway, I am really looking forward to everything.  Can’t wait to share how it goes!