• Poetry & Flash Fiction
  • testing

Indigo Vales

~ where the writing comes from

Indigo Vales

Tag Archives: victim

Sexist Me

21 Tuesday Nov 2017

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

anger, bullying, change, Equality, feminism, justice, march, politics, real lasting change, sexism, victim, voice, woman

In 1984, at the age of sixteen, I heard about female genital mutilation.  I was horrified and angry, but I had nowhere to share this information or how I felt, no way to make a change. People at home were too busy fighting, and everyone at school was all about everything you can imagine going on in high school. Horrified, angry, and helpless make for flinty bedfellows. I internalized and built me a case for hating men.

In 1991, five years after I graduated from high school, Anita Hill testified that Clarence Thomas, supreme court nominee, sexually harassed her.  I thought she was brave for coming forward, I believed her, and after he was confirmed my hatred for men accelerated.  How could anyone let this pig become a judge?  (Side note: I didn’t even understand at the time that he would be a judge for a lifetime and what that meant, or how his wife’s politicking everyone ignores.)

Four years later, 1995,  I married my best friend. My high school years and many after did nothing to help me learn and grow into becoming the best person I could be. I was a man-hating woman hell-bent ready to punish everyone and everything who brutalized women. I. Won’t. Be. Your. Victim. Anymore!!!   Those years were tumultuous, years without a strong support system. I hated men less because my husband was kind, but the lurking vigilante shadow was never far away, and I did little to banish it.

In 1998 my son was an infant, and I was enmeshed in the daily life of being wife and mother.  I kept up with the news in a fairly background noise kind of way.  I heard that Clinton was being accused and dragged to court and impeached for lying under oath. Well that was stupid, Bill, what the hell were you thinking?  I heard the woman he was with was a willing, if not eager, partner, and I gave him a pass.  What?   Yes.  I gave him a pass.  He seemed like a charming dude, really good on camera whether it was an address or a spot on a talk show.  I mean, how could a dude who seemed so decent (yes, he had a dalliance and he’s all humbled by it) be the predator these other women and politicians made him out to be?  I felt like the women coming forward were the unfortunate victims of those who had a political axe to grind.  I felt like, if Hillary stood by him, why shouldn’t I?  I gave Bill Clinton a Democratic pass because he favored the same things I did, he was charming, and I was not paying attention to the deeper, more relevant, issues.

Twenty-eight years after I graduated high school, 2014, I found myself in the lobby of a hospital waiting to visit my son.  I picked up a copy of Vanity Fair which I don’t normally read, but this issue caught my attention.  I read about Monica Lewinsky’s life after the scandal.  The focus of the article was humiliation and bullying. 2014 was a pivotal time for me in so many ways, and this article was part of it.  Ms. Lewinsky describes her life after the scandal and her hopes for what women need to do going forward.  Monica had been a throwaway for me. She was a willing participant in an affair, so what, let’s move on. After reading the article I learned how wrong I was.

In October of 2016 I became enraged and sickened by the words of a president-elect caught on tape. I looked forward to his sad-faced confession and withdrawal from the race, but that did not happen.  People did not seem to care that he admitted to groping women without their consent, enjoying it without fear of retribution because when you’re famous you can get away with it.  The Narcissist-in-Chief is our president, and I mourn every day.

It is November 2017 and I am questioning everything I know about myself as a woman and everything I believed right up until this day.  Three women accused Bill Clinton of rape or misconduct. No one cared. Sixteen women came forward to describe being abused by Trump before his inauguration. No one cared.  Harvey Weinstein was exposed, a tap was opened and it appears the floodgates are breached. Every day more women and men are coming forward to share stories of their abuse by the famous and the unknown.  As I sit back in amazement at the revelations I cannot help but look at myself for being complicit.  I gave Bill Clinton a Democratic pass, ignoring the women he abused. Should I give that same treatment to Al Franken because his sins were not that big a deal? Why turn my back on Roy Moore but not Charlie Rose?

The harder we put men’s bad behavior under the microscope, the harder I take a look at myself, the closer I listen to my internal tape recorder. I am shocked by what I find. I read a female journalist’s book and in several places I felt annoyed and frustrated that she was complaining about her hair, or her choice to give up her relationship and comfortable life in exchange for face-time on air covering a presidential candidate. I heard my inner voice saying to the cashier where I buy groceries, “Geez, lady, would it kill you to smile?”  I am sexist just like all the rest, but at least now I know it and I am willing to work hard to do better. I no longer want to exercise vigilante justice under the cover of my superpower, invisibility.  I know now that knowledge is power, and so is my voice. I have to stand up and speak out equally for what is right, instead of giving a pass to the folks I kinda like because they’re cute or funny on a talk-show.  Justice looks so different to me now. I hope my voice will add geometrically and make a real, lasting change.  I pray for equal vision, equal treatment, and an open heart and mind always.

Skin Care For The Soul

20 Monday Feb 2017

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

conservative, hate speech, humanity, hysterical snowflake, kindness, liberal, poison, SJW, skin, social media, victim

“Hey Mom?  You know my friend Nicole?  She’s been awful lately, I mean she’s really ragging on Aja about her weight. It’s getting really bad, I mean Aja’s been crying to me a lot about it. But when we’re all together and Nicole drags her, we all laugh, even Aja. Nicole says, ‘oh I’m just kidding you know we love you.”  But today Aja found pictures of dead cows in her locker, and… I just don’t know what to do.”

A)  “That’s awful!  This is the same girl who was messing with you constantly about your boyfriend and all? Well, you can talk to her and tell to knock off the shit with Aja, and see if she backs off. Or.. maybe you just need to find another friend?”

B)  “Well, Aja is overweight.  Have you ever asked her how come she eats so much? Or hinted that maybe you and her could exercise together, and she’d feel and look so much better once she loses the weight?”

******

“I don’t want to go to school because all they ever do is call me a pussy and shove me!! I hate it!!  I didn’t do anything, I never did anything, they post notes on my Facebook that I should kill myself already, the world doesn’t need pussies, and… maybe I do want to die.”

A)  “Ohhh.. Oh no.  Okay. I see how upset you are, and I know, this world is full of awful, hateful people.  It’s just words, honey, and you’ll see, once you get out of school things will be so much better. People change.  But for right now, stay off Facebook and I’ll have a talk with the principal about these bullies, okay?  Okay.”

B) “I suppose they see something in you that makes them say that?  Maybe they don’t like seeing it?  It’s how people are, sometimes. So I’ll tell you what.  Come on over here.  I’m going to show you how to fight back, and the next time one of them says it, you have my permission to put this fist in their mouth.  As for Facebook, just block the trolls and ignore the bullshit, kiddo.  It’s just words.”

********

So.  Do words matter? Does truth in all its shades matter?  And is compromise still a thing?  Is how we perceive words and truth the heart of the matter?  Should we teach our children that words can’t really harm us, that our emotions mean little, to ignore them, because nobody can hurt us without our permission?*  That truth really is arbitrary?  That we all just need to toughen up our skins so we can go placidly amid all the noise and haste?** How long before teaching our kids how to stand up to bullies it turns into “Cash me outside, how bout dat*** (I’ll smash you before you can smash me!)  Can we teach our children (and blooming adults) that refusing victimhood does not mean appeasing cruelty?  That freedom of speech can walk hand in hand with decency and everyone’s differing values?

I like to think the world is more kind and polite when we’re not hiding behind poison pens, those rare times when we come out of our holes and meet face to face, but then I remember. The world is changing rapidly. We can weed out the “weak,” the  dangerous “other” with more economy (and anonymity) than ever before.  Maybe I do need some more sandpaper to toughen up this old soul so I can have confidence in my convictions, even in the face of a hurricane.

*paraphrasing Gandhi

**paraphrasing Desiderata

***Quoting troubled, viral teenager Danielle Bregoli

Crime Scene

31 Monday Oct 2016

Posted by Kristine in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

human, justice, rant, TC, Universe, victim

Is that all? The whole world, this magic wet blue orb will be remembered as just one big crime scene? After the Y incision, all those sporty, artistic, philosophic fluids drained away; the meat of our intellect, science, curiousity, courageousness; the connective tissues of love, family, hope, benevolence all extracted, examined, weighed, as Maat once did, only now there’s no one left to cross over. No one left to view the body and claim it “Mine,” and grieve. We’ll be documented and printed for eternity, a planet of possibility, now just bloodstain and ash. We silenced ourselves with every gunshot, every act of omerta, each time we shrugged off violence as the norm, or laughed it off because we stopped teaching our young how to touch “animus,” the wonder of it, the holiness of the spirit inside themselves and each other. Decency extinct because we allowed it. Could we all have been just that tired or unable to stand up and not take it anymore?

I will not pray for world peace because those are words with vague concepts and less action, exhalations that feed my houseplants with carbon dioxide, so perhaps not entirely a waste. I could light a candle and burn oxygen, study the flicker and wish that humanity would just stop killing itself. I will shed tears again and feel despair again. But then I will take part of some random act of kindness, or witness one and try to share the news. Again. I will not give up trying because I believe every crime scene should have justice, just like every victim has a name. Let justice be kindness, somehow, and know that you are so much more than a name. I don’t want to believe this beautiful Earth will be just another victim.

Recent Posts

  • In Your Presence
  • Soon?
  • Process
  • fog morning.
  • dreamsong

Tags

amwriting angry woman birds birth blessings brother change child childhood Choose cycles daughter death destiny dog dream Equality evolving faith family father fear fight fire Flash fiction friend future goals grateful healing help Henry Rollins hope HoW human inspiration International Authors Iron Maiden justice life listen love march memory morning mother music nature neighbor not writing ocean pain peace poem poem? poetry politics power progress prompt rain reading season silence sleepless social media Solstice son sorting sunrise thoughts truth Universe woman writing

Blogroll

  • Duotrope
  • Highbrow
  • International Authors
  • Listen to Uncle Stevie!
  • terribleminds
  • The (Submission) Grinder

Social

  • View @indigovales’s profile on Twitter

Housekeeping

  • Register
  • Log in
  • Entries feed
  • Comments feed
  • WordPress.com

Stay in touch with good ol' fashioned email here at indigovales@gmail.com

Join 117 other followers

Archives

  • December 2020
  • November 2020
  • October 2020
  • September 2020
  • August 2020
  • July 2020
  • June 2020
  • May 2020
  • March 2020
  • February 2020
  • January 2020
  • November 2019
  • October 2019
  • August 2019
  • July 2019
  • May 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015

Blog at WordPress.com.