what I learned

     This class has been the most amazing class I have taken to date. I signed up for this class thinking it would be an easy A. I mean heck I am a woman, how could I not pass. This class has been challenging both academically and personally. It has made me question my own beliefs and address issues with myself. Taking this class has allowed me to grow as a person. I have reevaluated my life and realize I am so much more that society has told me. I am a strong and beautiful person despite popular belief. I have learned that I am not alone in wanting a better world. I realize that I have been spoon fed exactly what the world wants me to have. I now have the confidence and the knowledge to speak up and say something when people are wrong about women. I have also found a passion for telling others about what I learn in this class. I have even added women’s studies as one of my IDS consentrations. I am hoping to one day be able to teach a women’s studies class. I hope everyone has gotten as much out of this class as I have. I feel so close to most of you because of the conversations we have had. I wish you all the best of luck!

More Good Reads

Through out the semester I have read and watched these blogs. They always have something good to say, something that hits home with me.

This is my response to Will's blog about his mothers.

       I want to say I love reading your post. I think you offer a different view on the things we discuss in class because you are seeing these things from a male's point. With that being said this post hits closest to home with me. It has taken me all semester to get the nerve to comment on this post. I have no idea what it is like to actually lose a parent. But I know what it is like to think you have lost one. When I was six my mother was in a very abusive relationship. One day my baby brother who was about two at the time had been crying/sick all day and my mother was at her wits end. She had done nothing in the house all day. She had not cooked, cleaned, swept, mopped, made beds, nothing. Well her fiancé came home and just went crazy. I watched him beat my mom and scream and yell and throw things. I watched this 6'5 man beat my tiny 5'4 120lb mother until she lay in the bathroom floor and pretended she was dead. He then took a shower got dressed and left. I remember sitting by my mom telling her he was gone. She opened her eyes as much as she could and told me to go back my brother a bottle and put what I could in his diaper bag and my back pack. I remember my aunt and uncle coming to pick us up and we never went back. To know that domestic violence hits so many homes is upsets me beyond belief. While your mother story is different than others I thank you for sharing. I also thank you for giving your step mom a chance. It took me a while to ever give mine a chance and now I don't know where I would be without my mother and step mom.

April 30, 2012 12:10 PM

This is my response to Hannah's response to Miriam's blog post.
      

        Ok so I am so glad you could not resist in posting this! I too cannot stand the slut shame. No person knows another’s stories or steps. I went through these things myself. In high school I was very outgoing. I spoke to everyone and I knew everyone. This did not settle well with others, because I was not the skinny "pretty" popular girl, so how on earth did everyone like me. My sophomore year a rumor was started that I was sleeping with a few of the "popular" srs. This was so far from true it was ridiculous. I was spending time after school with these boys, because I was tutoring them. I was labeled a whore my sophomore year and to my surprise a few of these boys helped the rumors out. I was horrified and one day the "leader" of the pack stood up and set the school straight. I was ok my jr year for there was too much else to talk about. Then my sr. year I won prom queen, and guess what people didn't like that. The rumor began that I won because I was "hooking up" with the baseball team. Which I was talking and hanging out with one of them, not all of them. Long story short it makes my blood pressure rise when I people call girls sluts or whores. I get into arguments on a daily basis on facebook over this issue. I am so glad to know somebody else shares me feelings!! Sorry for my long story/rant. ;)

pop culture

Pop culture, what is it? Pop culture is everywhere. It is according to Wikipedia “is the totality of ideas, perspectives, attitudes, memes, images and other phenomena that are preferred by an informal consensus within the mainstream of a given culture”. Pop culture has an influence on our everyday lives. Some may say that the media that portray our pop culture does not have an impact on them, but it does.

       I will use myself as an example. Pop culture has influenced me in both good and bad ways. I will say that I was brain washed as a child with the entire princess happily ever after movies. I grew up wanting the prince charming to come rescue me. I at 23 still want to know where the hell my knight in shining armor is. The media has taught many young women that we are meant to be rescued, that we need that man to save us. That was media’s negative impact on me. Making me thing to be complete I needed a man. Well I found a man to complete me. And the relationship was perfect for a little bit. Then the new wore off and reality set in.

       This is hen media’s positive impact comes into play. One night I was watching a documentary on unhealthy relationships. I realized almost everything they talked about my relationship contained. I justified that by saying the relationship was not abusive physically, that was until I decided to leave. At nine weeks pregnant I was grabbed and threw against a car held there in the freezing cold pouring rain at the end of December. I remembered the documentary and what it had said. So I left and I am raising my child basically alone.

       Pop culture makes single parenting look almost easy in the movies and on television and it is far from easy. I knew being a single mom and college student would not be easy. I knew society had unrealistic expectations for me. I have found my own way and made my own rules and standards. I am just happy in knowing that the media does have an impact on my life, but it is up to me to make it positive or negative.

PART-TIME MOM MY ASS

    I will apologize up front if this post seems like a rant, because it is. I am not too sure if this post will be what this assignment called for, but it is what is on my mind today. While having a conversation over the weekend with a few friends the phrase part-time mom came up. See my friends were having a discussion about me with some other people who are not my biggest fans. They were discussing my plans to move and go to grad school and make more of myself. One of these people made the comment it must be nice for me to be a part-time mom. When asked what they meant they said well she goes to school all the time and works and still has time to go out and have girl’s nights. I appreciate my friends standing up for me at this point, for their response to that was a lot nicer than what I said.

Yes I go to school, work, and manage to find time for girl’s nights, but that does not make me a part-time mom. I work a part-time job 20 hours a week. I go to school full-time 18 hours this semester. I do find time for girl’s nights which 8 times out of 10 include my oh so charming little one.

I do not think I have a second shift when I get home. My at home job is my full-time job. The cleaning, cooking, washing, folding, putting up of clothes, waking Bently up, tucking Bently in, changing diapers, digging cheerios out of the carpet, the bubble baths, motorboat spoons, tickle tickle, showing the world my belly button because he needs to know it’s there, are the things I live for. Those things are the reason I work and go to school.

I understand that women work as hard as men in “real” world. But when it comes to home life, women work so much harder. It is not ok for a man to be “domestic”, but it is ok for them to be part-time fathers. It is ok for me to not cook or clean or do the laundry. A woman is not only expected to compete and excel in the real word but she is expected to be Martha Stewart at home as well. Most women now days have two full-time jobs. They have the 8-5 “real world” job then they have the twenty-four hour job. Being a mother is a non-stop job, and for those who are not mothers the job at home is still never done.

I would not call it second shifting, because if anything it is the first shift. The home job is what you wake up and go to bed to. The 8-5 job is the second shift that gets you away from the first for a little bit.

Gratias Mea

So this week we are supposed to write a sex story or a story about our sexuality. Well I guess I am going to take a kind of odd road with my story. For some reason I don’t find it at all hard or strange to share this with you guys.

Let me start my story off with saying that who we are is always part of who we were, where we have been, and who was with us. I will also be the first to say I am that girl who searched the world to fill a hole that can never really be filled by any other person than the one who made it.

Let me tell you guys about my first boyfriend. We went to church together. We saw each other in passing at school. We only saw each other in passing because I was in the eighth grade while he was a senior. You may say wow that is a big age difference but it didn’t matter to me. It didn’t seem to matter to him either. 

Don’t ask me how or why but there was a connection between us that I had never felt with anyone, and to this day I have not had that connection with anyone. We never did anything more than hold hands. He would kiss me on my forehead every now and then. He was always a gentleman.

Needless to say we ended things because age did become a factor. We have stayed friends and I search all over the place for somebody to make my heart feel the way he did. I never found it. I found friends and I found guys never found a first love again.

I thought I had lost my best friend until one night he came to my rescue once again. I think holding a hysterical 17 year old. My two very close friends were killed in a car accident and that night he came and held me while I cried. Unlike other guys he never once took advantage of my vulnerability. He just held me and let me cry. That was a long time ago seems like. But even now thanks to him and that night I realize it isn’t about what I can give to somebody or what they can give me.

Years past and we lost touch then just like always we picked up right where we left off. He still holds me when I cry and gives me hope when I don’t have any. I will gladly say yes we still have a connection like I have never had with anyone else. The one thing he has taught me is that I am beautiful and loveable on my worst days and that I am in control of which I have in my life and in my bed. Because of him and this class and the others I am taking I have found a new sense of self. I am in charge of my sexuality and my sexuality is not a bad thing. It is natural and part of me.

I guess that is a long story for a simple thing. People we are around have an impact on our sexuality. Whether it be out parents, our friends, our lovers, our teachers everybody has an impact on our sexuality and they help make it to what it is.

Things You Should Read...

Here are my responses to two blogs I found interesting. You should check them out as well.

Leana Weaver's Just a Snapshot blog post Macho Country Boy = Accepted

I have commented on one of your post already but I have to post on this one as well. My town is like that as well. Male, female, redneck, or whore. There were no in the middles or anything like that alot here was black and white. Anything gray or any other color was extremely looked down upon and talked about for.

Miriam Brook's Women Studies 301: post Homosexuality and Religion

I completely agree with your post. I can not stand a church that belittles others. That is my reason for currently not going to church. I find people use religion to justify their attitudes and hatred toward others and their "sins" but yet the Bible does not apply to the sins they commit themselves. My best friend from preschool is homosexual. He endured relentless torture in high school and to this day has only come out to a few close friends and family because he does not want the shame put on his family. I have always stood by him and will always do so and can not stand to see him hurt. I am so glad to see I am not the only one who has my beliefs

Because Hell Would Be Fabulous

         Being a Christian from the south I have heard more than once that homosexuality will send you straight to hell. I believe the church has a lot to do with the way people view homosexuality. We were told to write about the readings or how our views of sexuality have been changed, but I can’t help but to think about the movie. It just helps me to feel that much better about my views.

          I believe in Bible. I believe in its teachings. I however, think that the Bible was written for a different time. The Bible has been used as a basis of oppression for years. I do not think that was the intention of the Bible. The Bible was made as a guide to live by.

          What I find most interesting about people who use the Bible to say homosexuality is wrong are funny to me. The Bible says a sin is a sin not one is bigger than the other.  People who spout verses to back up their beliefs often tend to forget the verses that condemn themselves.

          The Bible says that lying, cheating, stealing, sex before marriage, idolizing, dishonoring your parents, and wanting what your neighbor has along with many other things are sins. If one sin sends you to hell, shouldn’t they all if they are equal?

          From a very early age I was taught that owning up to your sins and asking for forgiveness works. Being saved gets you to heaven not the sins you do or do not commit. I find it sad that the people who say no one but God can judge do the most judging. I think that churches forget they are the hands and feet and face of a God we cannot see. If I was a homosexual and had never experienced the church I would surely stay away from most.

          I had a friend once tell me if every sin in the Bible sent us to hell, well heaven would be empty. But, the thing that sticks out most to me is a church sign I saw in a photo one time. It simply said “If all the homosexuals went to hell, then hell would be fabulous.” As stereotypical as this sign is I love it because I believe that God loves us all. He is not sending anyone to hell for their sexual orientation but for the salvation they may or may not have. I fully believe it is not how you do or do not live your life but how your heart reflects your life.

Because It Isn't Lady Like and He Will Be Gay

       This week we were asked to write about a time we were told we could not do something based on gender. I have two I want to write about the first one about myself the second about my son.  The first story is from when I was in the around 13 or so. I live in the country and we do country things. We ride 4-wheelers and play in the woods and stay out past dark. The thing that stands out most for me is that one night my brother and the rest of my neighborhood (all boys) were riding 4-wheelers in the woods. We had been out all day riding and playing in the mud. When it got close to being dark my grandpa called me in. He let my brother stay out and build a fire and roast weenies in the woods with the rest of the boys. He told me when I asked why I couldn’t stay out that it was because it was not lady like to stay out past dark especially with boys. It made me so mad.

The second story is about my son. My son is 18 months old. He loves stuffed animals and shopping. He loves shoes. I get told on a regular basis that if I don’t stop letting him play with his animals and go shopping with me and he is going to be “gay”. I get told that if don’t let him play with more balls and let him get more bruises and hurt more than he is not going to be tough or a manly man. I think my son is perfect even if he loves animals. I think he has to like shopping because he is my only son and my best friend. I don’t do anything without him. He likes shoes because he can put them on himself so he feels like a big boy.

It upsets me to know that I could not play after dark because it was not what a girl did. It upsets me even more to know that at only 18 months old my son is already stereotyped because he doesn’t  have bruises and broken bones, and because he isn’t seen playing with the “boy” stuff as much as not. But in his defense I bought him trucks and cars and balls. He loves those too.

The Day I Called Myself the F Word

This assignment was to tell about the day we identified ourselves feminist. Well, let me start with what a feminist is. A feminist is someone who fights for equality of the sexes. She is a strong willed big hearted person. Her heart beats the same as any other heart. Her heart just knows that some things cannot be over looked though.

I will say I have always thought of myself somewhat of a feminist. I have always had a mother and a grandmother who have told me I can do anything I want. If I want a man’s job I can have it. If I want to stay at home and have babies and cook and clean I can, as long as it is my choice.

The day this all hit home for me was not too long ago when someone told me I could not do something. I have never been told I could not do something and this was not acceptable to me. I have a dream of becoming a professor or university employee with Ph.D. behind her name, and if I do not make it that far it will not be for lack of effort. I told that person that I could do anything I wanted to do because that is what I had always been told. They proceeded to tell me that because I am single mother that I needed to focus more on my child and not stay in school until I was 30 and then spend another 10 to 15 years trying to find a place to hire me. Talking all this into consideration I told them with little politeness that I was a woman. I came from a line of strong women who never accomplished their dreams because they were told they could not. So if it was the last thing I ever accomplished in life it was going to be that I show my son no matter what that he will know that just because his mother was a single mother or a single woman made her anything less than a wonderful human being.

They proceeded to tell me my women studies class was turning me into a feminist and I had not been it but a few weeks. I looked at him and said yes sir it is. It is showing me that I have every right to pursue my dreams and make them reality.

My Mothers Made Me Strong

In the novel, The Red Tent, Anita Diamant wrote, “If you want to understand any woman you must first ask about her mother and then listen carefully. [...] The more a daughter knows the details of her mother’s life—without flinching or whining—the stronger the daughter”. Our first blog assignment it to write 300-500 words on our mother(s). I am not sure 500 words can do justice to my mothers (my mom and nana).

          I guess I will start with my nana. The baby of nine, she was born strong and died strong. She taught my mom how to love and be a mother and she taught me how to as well. She was always a fighter. We called her Annie Oakley. She always had a gun. She shot snakes and coyotes, and anything else that threatened her dogs or garden. She had a love for making things. She made me dresses when I was little and made my brother a stick horse. She died a slow death and I hate those who let her suffer. But even in her suffering she never let her spirit die. She fought and taught us that no matter how hard life gets, it’s going to get better, and never quit fighting for what you want, because one day you will get it.

          As for my own mother, well she has taught me a lot. She has taught me that the only way a woman can be is strong and independent. My mom has been a single mom for the past 17 years. Nine years ago she became paralyzed. She had a vertebrae rupture and puncture her spine. For over a year my mom was in a wheelchair. But she never let that stop her. She still did everything we needed her to. She still came to show choir performances and baseball games. She never let us know how bad it hurt her to be the mom she always had been but she never stopped. She never let us give up on something we wanted because she was sick. My mom by prayers, hard work, physical therapy, and three surgeries is out of her wheel chair. She never once gave up or let my brother and I give up. She stands beside us when no one else does.

          My mothers have been the biggest blessing I have ever received, next to my son. If not for my mothers I would be a lost soul. They have made me a strong woman. They have made me a woman who knows what she wants and what she has to do to get it.