Deadlocked: Being Female In America
I don’t know what it’s like to be black.
I don’t know what it’s like to be gay.
I don’t know what it’s like to be Muslim, Mexican, African, or Jewish. To be terrorized, tyrannized, marginalized, or oppressed.
I don’t know what it’s like to be shot in my car, hung from a tree, bombed in my bed, or whipped in the town square.
I don’t know the hardship of backbreaking labor that affords little but poverty while being denigrated for my immigration status.
I don’t know the anguish of putting my child in a rickety boat to sail a treacherous sea to be turned away by those terrified of our ethnicity.
I don’t know what it’s like to be judged harshly for my skin color, the shape of my eyes, the letters in my name, the gender of my lover, or the religion I believe.
What I do know?
I know what it’s like to be a woman. Specifically, a woman in America.
While the assignation may not typically engender tragedies like the above, it does come with its own list of degradations and diminishments, “isms” and marginalizations; mitigating and dismissing factors.
Being a woman in America is a full-time audition.
The history of sexism, misogyny, and patriarchal oppression is long and well-documented. From whatever angle viewed, it’s clear women have endured minimization, harassment, and violence throughout time in their quest to simply BE… be anywhere near a level playing field with men. They’ve had to transcend stereotypes and cliches of the most ignorant and egregious kind just to accomplish what men have systemically taken for granted: getting the vote, advancing in a job; even getting a job. Legally asserting their independence from and equality with their spouses. Maintaining their dignity. Being seen as valued and contributing members of society throughout their lives. Being judged for who they are and […]