For Carrie

I've been thinking for a while now about dusting off the ol' blog. I've thought of a few things I'd like to say, a new direction I'd like to take it in. I thought and I thought... and I thought. But I never did.  Then two things happened this week that changed that. To oversimplify, someone  I never met passed away, and someone I know and trust told me to be wary of women because they can be catty and cruel.

First thing's first. A woman named Carrie, who attended and graduated RMWC long before I ever even heard of it, passed away.  I had never heard her name before this week, when suddenly my Facebook feed was filled with deeply moving tributes to our fallen sister. Many, if not most, of these posts were from women like me, women who never had the honor of meeting Carrie. But that never stopped this community. It never has. If you went there, you get. If you didn't, you probably don't. The term "sisterhood" can sound silly or juvenile, but it really is the best word for it. You have sisters who you are best friends with, sisters you bicker with, sisters you don't speak to, sisters who seem to challenge everything you believe. Sisters you've never met and ones that have a stash of incriminating photos of you. Sisters you cry with and for and because of.  Sisters that make you laugh until your face hurts and you can't breathe and you are in actual danger of peeing yourself. Some even are Ravens fans, which breaks my heart. There are all kinds of RWMC sisters, but they are all family.

It would be easy to say that recent tragedies in our family have brought out the best in us, and that certainly is true. But RMWC women have bringing out the best in each other for a long time, in good times and in bad. Since the age of 18, they have been at my side, literally and figuratively, at every milestone in my life. Graduating did not diminish that at all. Indeed, there are many RMWC women I've grown much closer to since our time behind the Red Brick Wall. And I know my sisters will be there for me for the rest of my life, even  the ones I've never met.

When you are surrounded by a community like that, it is hard, if not impossible, to heed warnings about women's cruelty. When I hear people say things like that, I shudder. I know that I am fortunate to have received, not only a rigorous education academically, but also a rigorous education in what it means to be a person of honor.  I went to college in a place where no one locked their doors, exams were unproctored and self-scheduled, and we used rubber bands to keep our mailboxes permanently open. I didn't learn to be wary of women; I learned to be wary of people who doubted them.

My thoughts are with Carrie's family and my heart, as always, is with the family that she and I share.

Vita Abundantior, my sisters.

See Something, Say Something

Last night, I was commuting home on the Metro-North Harlemline as usual, when something rather unusual happened: I realized that the mansitting next to me was using his iPhone to snap photos of the legs and skirt ofthe woman across the aisle. When I was certain of what I was witnessing, Idebated confronting the man myself (and snapping my own photo), but then Ithought that the safer, smarter course of action would be to alert theconductor. You know: see something, say something.

I saw the conductor in the next car, so I went to talk tohim. I described the situation. I indicated the man in question, the woman hewas photographing, and explained that I saw him take at least a dozen photosand then scroll through and zoom in on them on both his iPhone and his iPad.The conductor’s response? To shrug and say, “What do you want me to do? It isn’tillegal.” He followed that by pointing out that the man was in a nice suit, sohe didn’t seem creepy. Wow. See something, say something, do nothing.

The conductor told me that I could sit in this new car untilmy stop (gee, thanks) and left. I watched him walk back to my previous car andright by the man and woman in question without so much as a pause. I wasdumbstruck. I was about to go back to my earlier instinct of confronting theman myself and warning the woman, when a female conductor entered the car.Hoping that she would see things differently, I retold my account to her.Thankfully, she immediately understood and went off to confront the man.Unfortunately, we were now at my stop and I had to go.

See something, say something, and then what? Yes, takingphotos of women’s legs (even the increasingly popular “upskirting”) isn’t illegal, but neither is accidentally leaving your briefcase behind and you canbe sure as hell the MTA would’ve been all over that. At the very least, theyhad an obligation to tell their paying customer that she was being harassed sothat she could move. Even if creepy photos are all that that guy does, shedeserves better. And, if the photos are just the tip of his predatory iceberg,then she really needed to be told. What if he had followed her home? How aboutsee something, say something, prevent something?

So, ladies, beware. The MTA doesn’t have a policy against thissort of sexually predatory behavior. Even if they know you are being harassed,they may not even tell you. Think about that for a minute.  Think about that the next time you get on the train. And if you see something? Do something.

Heaton Hates You*

*"You" meaning "woman who has sex and limited financial resources, possibly because you are not a wildly overpaid television actress."

I do not like Patricia Heaton. I didn't know that until tonight, but now there's no doubt.  No wiggle room. Why, you ask? Why would I suddenly and fervently wish I watched The Middle, just so I could dramatically stop and feel like I had done something that in some small way impacted her? As is true with so much in life, you just need to look to Twitter for the answers.

See, this evening I logged onto Twitter and saw @DrJenGunter and @EvilSlutClique (both of whom you should be following, but the way) talking about @PatriciaHeaton. I was confused. Who talks about @PatriciaHeaton? Whatever, I was preoccupied with other things (hello, @mvp86hinesward) and I moved on.

That was until @DrJenGunter started re-tweeting some choice messages by @PatriciaHeaton. Some messages that tell you exactly what kind of woman she is (namely the white, rich, privileged kind). See,   @PatriciaHeaton was all fired up because she read about the Congressional testimony of a Georgetown student who had the audacity to talk about how expensive birth control is for her and her classmates because Georgetown student insurance does not cover contraception.

@PatriciaHeaton, hearing how students were struggling to pay for contraception and the terrible consequences thereof, she thought it was time she offered her own suggestions for how to avoid pregnancy:

Here's one that's a particularly personal and vile attack on a woman she's never met (and no, I don't know where the parents angle came into this, but if someone does know, please clue me in):

I could post more, but you get the idea. When some of us crazy liberals pointed out how cruel she was being, how seeped in privilege she is, this is how she responded:

Yes, you read that right. @PatriciaHeaton is accusing others of ad hominem attacks. This from a woman who spent the better part of the day attacking and mocking a woman who stood up for what she believed in. But you see, she thinks this makes her just like us normal folks:

Great. Seriously. I mean, maybe if I were her I wouldn't brag about paying off my loans at age 32 if that happened to be the year I started working on thirtysomething, for fear that wouldn't really support my Everywoman stance, but still. Good for her. But let's explore this further, shall we?

@PatriciaHeaton claims to have taken out loans, and working at least three jobs. And that was in the late 1970s (she graduated from Ohio State University in 1980), before college tuitions began rapidly outpacing inflation. In fact, college tuition has quadrupled since 1980. So, if it took @PatriciaHeaton loans and three jobs to pay for a state school then, imagine what it must take the average student now.

Seriously, @PatriciaHeaton, imagine.

How's that view from your high horse?

Probably just fine, I am guessing. These facts and figures don't bother you. Why, you're generous enough to even say birth control doesn't bother you (gee, thanks):

 I actually find that odd. Given your strident anti-choice stance, I thought you'd want to be giving out birth control like candy. You know, since birth control prevents unwanted pregnancy and I know you aren't some kind of crazy hypocrite who wants to deny women access to affordable birth control and then cut them of from reproductive choice once they find themselves with an unplanned pregnancy. That would just be silly.

This is also a head-scratcher, since you are in such a penny-pinching mood (which I completely understand; you're talking to a girl who clips coupons). Because, of course, while unintended pregnancies cost the US about $5 billion dollars annually, contraceptive use saves about $19 billion. Thus, if you really want to save some money...

So, yeah, @PatriciaHeaton hates you.



PS: If you wanted to maybe tell @PatriciaHeaton what you thought about all of this, that might be kind of awesome Just sayin'.

UPDATE 3.3.12: If you are on Twitter, I recommend  following the #BoycottRush hashtag to learn about the great companies that are pulling ads from the Rush Limbaugh show due to his misogynistic comments regarding the same woman @PatriciaHeaton was tweeting about.

Pink and Blue

Neither MtJoy kid wanted the toys in the boys section.

I want to show you a couple of videos, but first let's back up a bit. Almost exactly a year ago, my eleven-year old cousin Anna came to stay with me for a week. She was a delightful kid, in large part because that's exactly what she was: a kid. My aunt and uncle hadn't bought her those disgusting Abercrombie push-up bras for kids or let her watch inappropriate movies or anything else that pushed her pre-maturely into adolescence. During her entire stay here, I think she rocked a bear hat (a knitted hat that made it look like she had a full-on bear head on her head) every single day. Like I said, delightful.

Anyhoo, if you know me at all, you can imagine that a little girl who spends any significant amount of time with me will get plenty of two things I love dearly: refined sugar and feminism. Near the end of her stay, I took her on a ride of the ferris wheel inside the Times Square Toys R Us. As you are riding this thing, you basically get a preview of floor after floor of toy heaven. Genius marketing. With every rotation of the wheel, Anna's eyes got bigger, until finally the following exchange occurred:

Anna: Oh my gosh! When we get off, can we go to the boys' section?!?

Me: Anna! What did I tell you!

Anna: Ummm.... gender is just a social construct?

Me: Yes. And so what does that mean?

Anna: Girls can like dinosaurs and trucks if they want to. And boys can like.... princesses?

Me: Yes, thank you. You may go to the truck and dinosaur section when we're done, as long as you remember that toys do not have gender, ok?'

I was so proud. Listen, I liked princesses as much as the next gal. Probably more. I may own two three (four?) tiaras. But acting like what sex organs a person has should dictate the toys they play with as a kid is just crazy crazytalk. True story: One of my earliest school memories is of a recess in 1st grade when I stuck up for a girl who wanted to play Matchbox cars. Of course, school being what it was for me, somehow that resulted in everyone signing a We Hate Roxy petition -- including the girl I was defending. But I digress.

All of this is a means of introducing you to this video (if you haven't seen it already). Enjoy:





And after you've seen that, watch this trailer for a film that hopes to address this issue:

#notfunnyfacebook, Street Harassment, and Me

#notfunnyfacebook, Street Harassment, and Me; Or, these things are all connected, stupid



Since July, I have been working on a campaign to get Facebook to enforce its own terms of service, remove pages that promote sexual violence, and issue a public statement clarifying its policies going forth on the issue. What started off as me helping a Change.org member refine his petition has snowballed into over 180,000 signatures, media coverage, and Twitter movement (#notfunnyfacebook, in reference to Facebook's assertion that these pages are merely "jokes").

This morning, I was walking to school when I passed a well-dressed man in his 30s or 40s. He leered at me as I walked by, but any woman who has ever walked from Point A to Point B knows that seems to come with the territory. This guy, however, set off my spidey sense. Even now, I can't tell you how I knew that guy was a creep, I just did. Fast-forward ten minutes later, on a different street: I see this man walking towards me. I freeze. He says to me, "I've been watching you. I saw you back there. I had to tell you how sexy I think you are. Are you free right now? Get in my car and I will take you somewhere." It  I firmly told him to get away (without trying to provoke him), thanked my lucky stars it was broad daylight, and then waited for him to get into his car and drive away before I continued on my to school.

These are not separate things.

When one of the largest and most influential social media sites -our modern day town square- refuses to take a stand against a culture that promotes sexual violence and objectification of women, it is contributing to the problem. When Facebook implies that pages like “Kicking Sluts in the Vagina,” “Whats 10 inches and gets girls to have sex with me? my knife,”  and “Riding your Girlfriend softly, Cause you dont want to wake her up” (all real Facebook pages, by the way) are meant to be laughed at,  trivializes hate speech and sexual violence and undermines our ability to address these issues in a meaningful way. 


Facebook did not put that man on my path to school, nor did it tell him to stalk me. It did, however, provide a platform for him to normalize his behavior and connect with others who share his views, all the while protecting him under the dubious shield of humor. If Facebook wants to be a company that is a haven for sexual predators, a site that fosters violence, then fine. But don't expect me to laugh.


If you don't think rape is funny, sign the petition here, tweet using the #notfunnyfacebook hashtag, and make some noise.

Tis the Season

Once again, I am working with NOW-NYC to collect gifts for young women (ages 12-17) living in shelters and transitional housing this holiday season. As a former case manager at a domestic violence shelter, I cannot stress to you enough how much efforts like this are appreciated. Women in shelters are lucky to have the basic necessities, let alone little luxuries.

This is where you come in. I am gathering new/unused items for the NOW-NYC gift drive. Suggestions:

• Hair clips
• Hand soaps
• Toiletries
• Baby clothes & supplies
• Lotions and hair gels
• Costume jewelry
• Journals/notecards/books
• Craft kits and small games
• Scarves, hats, gloves, fuzzy socks

I will also happily accept any wrapping paper/ribbons/gift tags/etc you have. Last year we ended up having to wrap a bunch of stuff in napkins. 


If you get your items to me by  December 13, I can take them to NOW-NYC headquarters and wrap them in time to be distributed. So, next time you are out grocery shopping or at the drug store, please consider adding one of these items to your cart. If you'd prefer to give me money and have me do the shopping, I am more than happy to arrange that (I can even accept PayPal and give you a receipt, if you like).

#notfunnyfacebook

Friends,


As you may know, I am currently working on a campaign over at Change.org to get Facebook to enforce its own Terms of Use and remove pages that promote sexual violence. You can sign the petition and read all about it here.  We've got over 180,000 people behind us already and it is time to amp up the volume and really pressure Facebook. 


Facebook is claiming that pages like "Raping your mates girlfriend to see if she can put up a fight," "Kicking Sluts in the Vagina," and Riding your Grlfriend softly, Cause you dont want to wake her up" aren't hateful or violent, they're funny jokes! Well, this is where you come in.


November 2nd we're having a Twitter Day of Action and we'd like you and your sense of humor to participate. The easiest thing to do would be to use the #notfunnyfacebook hashtag that day (more details to follow).

But I want more! I am lucky to have many talented, hilarious friends and Change.org wants you to put those skills to work for the cause. We want videos --sketch, stand-up, improv, anything-- addressing Facebook's misunderstanding of the concept of humor.  Use your funny bones to let Facebook know that rape is not a joke.

Let me know if you'd like to participate or if you have any questions (twitter: @roxymtjoy email: roxann@change.org) If you make a video, not only will you be helping a great cause, but you'll also have the chance to get some great exposure, too. It is win-win! Spread the word. Let's show Facebook what a real sense of humor looks like.