Sing It Sista: You Don't Own Me

Lately I've been looking back to when I was a wee little lass and thinking about some of the experiences that influenced me to become the woman that I am today. As a child I was always subjected to conflicting messages about the roles of women-my mother was a divorced, single mother who always told me that I didn't need a man to take care of me, but at other times she would chastise me for not acting "ladylike" and telling me that if I did [insert something "unladylike"], I would never find a man. I was always in a state of conflict with all of my divorced, single aunts who displayed the same contradictory behavior as well as my grandmother who married multiple men and threw them away whenever it suited her. I lived in a primarily immigrant neighborhood where many of the women didn't work and stayed home to take care of their men and families, while also often making fun of my mother and her single sisters for having "lost their men".

Apparently the rumor is that my father had an affair when I was three years old and my brother was only two weeks old. According to the family rumor (of course my mother will never talk about it), my mother threw all of my father's belongings in the front yard and set them on fire. I don't know if I can remember this happening, or if I have a memory of the rumors that my aunts have told me all of these years. I remember many similar occurrences over the years from my mother punching my father in the nose and giving him a bloody nose to my mother being arrested for doing something else to my father's new wife.

At the same time that all of this was happening, I also would see my mother lie around and cry over my father for having left her, even ten years after the fact. I grew up on reading my mother's notes that she would write to my father and leave all over the house, chastising him for having abandoned the family and begging him to come back. I can remember finding the notes even as late as when I was in high school. I also remember my mother lying on the floor crying for years and years, listening to sad music by women about their men having left them.

As I child I was so confused about the role of women. Are we supposed to pine away in misery when someone leaves us? Are we supposed to be self-sufficient, or do we need a man around? Everywhere I looked all I saw were women crying their hearts out over having been left by a man-in songs, in books, in real life, on television.

But then there were those ecstatic moments when I would see a different side of the strength and independence of women. I didn't see it often, but when I did I would suck it up as much as I could and I was never able to get enough of it. I can remember the first time that I heard Lesley Gore's 1964 hit "You Don't Own Me" and I couldn't stop listening to it throughout my childhood and adolescence:



I would have to say that this song has probably been one of the most influential songs for me in my life, and listening to it was like being in a safe haven away from the typical "why did you leave me, I can't live without your love" type of crap that is shoved down every little girl's throat starting at birth.

I just recently researched the life of the singer, Lesley Gore, and I found some interesting things about her. According to some reports she sacrificed her singing career so that she could go to college, which impacted her popularity and ability to perform. Over the years she has changed the lyrics to many songs when singing about gender pronouns; for example, on an album when she sang the song "You're the one that I want" (from the musical Greece), she changed "because I need a man" to "because I need a friend". In 2005 she came out as a lesbian and has been in a relationship with her partner for over twenty years.

Was this song ever significant for you? What were some of the other songs that have had an impact on your life?

Am I Really A Feminist, or a Female Supremacist??

I've got such a complicated relationship with feminism that it often boggles my mind. I used to always consider myself a SuperFeminist, but over the past five years or so I've been of the persuasion that feminists are aiming too low.

You see, I don't believe that as women we should be striving for equality because deep down in my heart I don't think that we are equal to men. I think that we are better than men, and no one has seemed to convince me otherwise.

Over the years I have had my disputes with other feminists. I've often heard them say, "Women haven't even achieved equality, and yet here you are talking about superiority?" Or on other occasions I have been told by some feminists,"I don't think that one sex is superior than the other sex, because I believe in equality. Men can do some things better than I can do, and vice versa".

Yet I still believe deep down in my heart that women by nature are superior, even though many of us haven't realized our true potential. We're still better than men even though equality for women in many aspects hasn't surfaced and although society attempts to keep many of us down. Maybe a man is more skilled at doing something than a woman, but this doesn't mean that he is superior to her-it just means he is more skilled in a certain aspect.

I've always had this idea that women are exalted beings ever since I was a small child. Last year my aunt told me a story of something that I said when I was six years old. This is what she told me:

I was six years old and we were looking at a small dog shaking her body, while the dog hair was flying all over the place. I asked my aunt, "Tia, why does the dog lose her hair?" My aunt responded, "God makes them like that". So I started shaking my body all over the place and I told my cousin that we could also lose our hair by shaking. My aunt informed me that we couldn't lose hair by shaking. "Why not?" I asked her. My aunt tried to explain, "Because God didn't make us like that. It just doesn't happen". I replied to them all, "Well, can God's husband make us lose hair?"

So, ever since I was a little girl I have always viewed "God" as a woman, even though the mainstream notion of God is that he is male. I've always viewed nature as female. Femininity has always been divine and superior to me. Yet at the same time I recognize that many women have yet to have realized their true potential.

If the true place for women in the social structure is to achieve equality with men, then why are we such a threat to men? Would men really be that threatened if we were equal to them? Don't you suppose that deep down inside men know that we are not their equals, that we have the potential to be superior, and this is what really truly freaks them out?

Look Who Came Out on Top, Chump

I've long become accustomed to working with macho jackasses who try to talk down to me. Sometimes I want to slap them upside the head, but I have learned over the years that sometimes the less that I say, the more they will get out their own rope and hang themselves. So I just zip my lip and keep quiet.

Today was one of those delightful days.

There is this guy at my work institution who has been talking down to me for years. There is always a constant power struggle with any decision that I make and he always feels the need to try to criticize many of the things that I do at work. Many years ago it used to bother me, but now I just love to sit back and let him underestimate me.

And oh yes, he always underestimates me.

Today this guy organized a business lunch with someone "important" and throughout the entire meeting he talked nonstop about himself and all of his qualifications. He actually started talking on my behalf, answering questions for me, explaining what I do for my job, and on and on and on. I was getting so irritated and it almost occurred to me that I should shut him up, but I just decided that I really didn't care to put in any effort.

I sat there for almost two hours barely saying anything. Every once in a while, I asked the person who we were having lunch with a couple of questions about his business and services, but other than that I just pretty much sat there. Quiet, patient and calculated.

At the end of the lunch meeting, the "important" (for lack of a better term) person reached for the check and I grabbed it first. I said, "I'll get both of your lunches".

The important person said, "Well, I'm not accustomed to that. Usually I pay for the lunch. I have an expense account, and you know that I'm a pretty macho guy". Yes, I swear, he really said that.

I just wanted to subtly throw in a little something different into the mix.

Nonetheless I strutted over to the register and paid for both of the meals. We shook hands and parted goodbyes. After the important person left, the macho guy from work talked down to me the whole way back to the office about how I should have talked more to impress this man, blablabla. I literally had to listen to this macho idiot talk my ear of about his wonderful self and all of the great advice that I should learn from him all afternoon long.

Tonight I came home from work and the telephone rang and lo and behold it was the important person asking me if I wanted to do some consulting on the side for his business. I mentioned that I wasn't really that familiar with his area of specialization and he told me that he needed a fresh way of looking at things from an outside perspective. He didn't need to see my resume, he said, because the few questions that I had asked him at lunch were exactly what he was looking for.

What's the motto of the story? Just turn the cheek and laugh inside sometimes when they are are talking down to you, ladies, because with hard work, patience, and strategic thinking we will still come out on top. And always remember that a kick ass woman can still get her way even when she is quiet as a mouse.

Other than that there is no motto. Just gloating=)

Strong Women: Feminist Poems of the Week

You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I rise.
(Maya Angelou)

I'm constantly looking and searching for feminist poets, feminist poems, or poems written by females that portray women in a strong, positive way. Here are some of my favorite poems written by women about women:

Still I Rise by Maya Angelou: You can never keep a strong woman down. This poem reminds me of my post that I wrote yesterday. They can try to hold us down, try to make us feel bad, try to silence our strong voices--and yet we will still keep moving forward.

Siren Song by Margaret Atwood: A poem of the mythical siren's song who seduces men into sinking their ships.

Please Fire Me by Deborah Garrison: A poem about those damn alpha males in the workplace. I bet this is exactly what some of those women on "Mad Men" think every day that they are at the office.

You can also find other poems in my previous post here.

What are some of your favorite poems about women?

Crazy Nymphomaniacal Penis-Envying Fucked-Up Frigid Bitch

In the feminist novel Memoirs of an Ex-Prom Queen, the female character Sasha Davis visits a male psychoanalyst in order to discuss being miserable in her marriage and her perceived "frigidity". The novel takes place in the fifties and sixties, so of course the therapist tells her that if only she embraces her feminine true self then she will be able to be happy. You know, her main problem is that she needs to set aside her penis-envy and get with the program, right?

At one point in her therapy session, she discusses with her therapist her need to have extramarital affairs. She considers leaving her husband, but the therapist advises her that she shouldn't make any drastic decisions. Sasha reflects to herself, "He seemed to feel that the known was better than the unknown, another man would prove no better for me than this one, and a crazy nymphomaniacal penis-envying fucked-up frigid bitch like me was lucky to have hooked any man at all".

Gotta love it.

Bad Ass Links: Heartless Bitch International

I was surfing online for kick-ass, take no prisoner kind of websites for women and I came upon the website Heartless Bitches International. The first thing that drew me in immediately was their catch phrase "Because We Know That BITCH Means: Being In Total Control, Honey!" They've got rants, a bitch board (if you are heartless enough to get accepted), book reviews and recommendations, and tons of other bitchy stuff that I haven't had time yet to sift through. Check it out for yourself!

Say It Sista: The Quotable Bitch

"I strive to get what I want and people have said that I'm a monster in that department. But that's always said about us ladies who grasp for our own strength". Julie Andrews, actress

"I also believe that when you are attacked, you have to deck your opponent". Hillary Rodham Clinton

"Once a crowd chased me for an autograph. 'Beat it,' I said, 'go sit on a tack!' 'We made you,' they said. 'Like hell you did!' I told them". Katharine Hepburn, actress

"If I had my life to live over, I would do it all again, but this time I would be nastier". Jeanette Rankin, first female U.S. Congresswoman

"Some people wear their heart up on their sleeve. I wear mine underneath my right pant leg, strapped to my boot". Ani DiFranco, singer

"When other little girls wanted to be ballet dancers I kind of wanted to be a vampire". Angelina Jolie, actress

"We are the women men warned us about". Robin Morgan, feminist activist

Source: The Quotable Bitch

Bad Asses in Poetry: Poems of the Week

"And I’d like to be a bad woman, too,

And wear the brave stockings of night-black lace

And strut down the streets with paint on my face."

(Gwendolyn Brooks)

These have always been some of my favorite poems:

A Song in the Front Yard-Gwendolyn Brooks

Phenomenal Woman-Maya Angelou

What Do Women Want?-Kim Addonizio

I read them when my soul needs some of that bad ass feminine nurturing. What are some of your favorite poems?

Reverse Sexism-How About a Little Male Objectification??

When I first started this blog, I wanted to write about bad ass women who have kicked ass and taken names, but I also wanted to feature a few men who love those bad ass women. Such men who can handle wild and unruly women are one of a kind and deserve a little air time, don't you think?! So my post today is all about a man who is near and dear to my cold, cruel heart.

The other day I mentioned on twitter that I was going out to dinner with my boyfriend, and a twitter friend (@cocosmalls) mentioned that she wanted a picture of him. I discussed the idea with my boyfriend, and he told me that I could take a picture of his muscle and post it online, but that was it. (He is very discreet because of his job, as am I myself regarding pictures). Needless to say, my lil friend wasn't happy with the idea of just a muscle.

Nonetheless, at dinner I tried to take a picture of his arm because he was wiggling around and wouldn't flex his muscle. He claimed that he felt like I was "objectifying" him:



His comment about feeling "objectified" started the wheels turning in this devious head of mine. Over the past couple of weeks, I've seen a number of commercials or advertisements that over-objectify women and are pretty sexist as far as I'm concerned. Take the Sprite commercial, for example, where the girl is giving a man a blow job and is shot in the face with a big burst of sprite. So, I started thinking and I came to the conclusion that if men can objectify women then we women should do it more often to men.

I sat down and explained to my boyfriend that I thought that it would be a really excellent idea for me to create some home-made advertisements where I treat him like a piece of meat. In the beginning he didn't want to take any pictures, but as soon as I began to explain my idea that I wanted to flip the script on objectification...then he was all game. Like I said, it takes a special man to deal with a crazy ass woman and her whims.

A large bottle of Cristal champagne fell out of the sky and into my lap this week in order to celebrate a couple of large scale work gigs that I've pulled off over the past two weeks.



So I figured I would use the bottle in my first series of male objectification advertisements. Check out my first advertisement:



What do you think my caption should be??

What a good sport, don't you think? Stay tuned for some additional male objectification advertisements. (Well, if the boyfriend continues to play along, that is!) Hats off to @cocosmalls for the creative inspiration.

We've Come a Long Way Baby!

It has always irked me when people act like there is something wrong with women who are independent and are comfortable with doing something on their own. I've lived by myself since I was 21 years old and I love to be alone, so I want to slap anyone who acts shocked when I state that I enjoy living by myself. I like to travel by myself. I do what I want when I want to do it and I don't wait for other people to join me. If no one is available or doesn't want to do something, I'll take my own happy ass off to do whatever I want because I want to.

As I grow older it becomes more and more irritating. I'm less and less likely to control my inner monologue and I start saying some crazy, obnoxious stuff. Over the years people have felt that they have the right to try to judge my relationship with my boyfriend, insinuating that there is something wrong with us if we don't enjoy traveling together. Or they just act as if there is something wrong with me because I choose to do what I want to do when I want to do it, and I am not so insecure that I wait until someone else wants to come along for the ride.

The other day, for example, I mentioned to a group of co-workers that I was planning on going on vacation to possibly Greece and Turkey. Everyone immediately asked who I would be going with. "No one!" I insisted. Everyone immediately got bent out of shape, whining and convincing me that I should take my boyfriend and suggested a number of other people for me to take if he would not be able to go. People were shocked and acted as if they actually felt sorry for me when I told them that I do not like to travel much with my boyfriend, or for anyone for that matter.

In addition to traveling, I enjoy eating alone at times, going to the movies and all sorts of other activities that I feel like doing at any given moment. Yesterday I just wanted to be alone and decided to head over for a quick dinner at a favorite thai restaurant on my way home from my mother's restaurant.

While I was sitting there and looking over the menu, a lady walked up to the front counter and stared at me as she was ordering take-out. She finally said, "I can't find it in me to eat out alone. That's why I am getting some take out". She continued to stare at me and stare at me and stare at me until I almost wanted to stick my tongue out at her. Even the lady and the man, as well as two ladies across the room kept staring at me.

Get a grip. So I decided that I would take some pictures of my solo evening out, since it is so fucking amazing to everyone. So, here's a picture of my non-dinner-date:



And I actually even paid for the check on my own, if you can believe it!



I even drove myself home! Yes, yes I really did!



We've come a long way, baby, since women got the right to vote! Stay tuned for my next pictures that I'll upload as soon as I learn how to wipe my ass without having someone else hold my hand!

I Have Begun My Own Quiet War...

My favorite poet, hands down, is Sandra Cisneros. I do enjoy some of her short stories that have that bad ass little twist to them. In this excerpt, she reads her story "Beautiful and Cruel" from her book, "The House on Mango Street":

Unrepentant SLUT Series: Absolutely No Regrets

Yesterday I kicked off my Unrepentant SLUT series. Today I've decided to take a walk down memory lane and explore how the term "slut" has played out in my life. Here it goes:

I lost my virginity when I was fourteen to a boy named Jesus* over a superbowl bet. No, seriously. When the boys found out about it at school, they ran my name through the mud and created a derivation of my name, which included the word "slut". It wasn't long after that when the girls at school jumped on the bandwagon and isolated me. 

I can remember sitting in class and listening to the teacher lecture about Hester Prynne in "The Scarlet Letter". I remember being angry because Hester was isolated, punished and humiliated for having had an extramarital affair while the man who she had an affair with walked away with his reputation intact. "The Scarlet Letter" was the turning point for me, the moment when I decided that I would never let anyone make me feel ashamed of my sexuality.

 

Over the years it's not as if people haven't tried to denigrate me for my sexuality. When my own mother found out that I had lost my virginity, she locked me in my room for two straight weeks. When I came out to get water one night, she looked at me with hate on her face and said, "You disgust me. You make me sick. You're nothing but a slut". I can go on and on about examples from ex-friends, co-workers, people in the online community, non-sex-positive feminists and so on. And I've decided that people can kiss my ass if they don't like it. 

I'd have to say that the most slut defining moment for me was when at the age of twenty I dated a guy named Orlando*. At one point Orlando asked me how many men I had slept with and I told him twelve. He immediately dumped me. A day later he called to explain his actions. 

"I just can't date a woman who doesn't know how to keep her legs shut. I want to give you a word of advice. If you want a man to get serious with you, then you need to lie to guys in the future and tell them that you are a virgin. Later after they fall in love with you, you can tell him that you were with a few guys before but you didn't want him to think that you were a slut", he explained. 

I kid you not. I wrote down a summary of what he said as soon as I got off the phone with him.

I told him, "I will NEVER lie about how many men I have slept with. If a man doesn't like it, he can kiss my ass".  And then I called his uncle, asked him out on a couple of dates and fucked the shit out of him. And later the same with his best friend. 

I will never allow anyone to make me feel bad for my sexuality. I will never make myself feel bad or regret any of my sexual experiences, even if I have made poor decisions regarding certain partners throughout my life. 

So, here's to you, Orlando~thirteen years later and I'm still slutting around while you are stuck in a miserable marriage. Oh, and by the way, since I've been with you, I've actually lost track of how many partners I've had so I guess I won't ever have to give another man an exact number of my sexual partners. 

Absolutely, absolutely no regrets. 

*Maybe, just maybe it's a real name.

Tales of a Wee Little Badass

Ever since I was a little girl I always had an obsession with women who were different than the "average woman".  When I was a wee little girl I was smacked on the knuckles by the nuns far too many times for asking why everyone always blamed Eve for everything. When I was nine years old, I was given a spanking at school because I wrote a paper in class that I thought that Adam was the weak one because he ate the apple and that Eve was merely curious. I was sent to confess my sins to the priest and was sent home for the day.

Growing up as a little feminist bad-ass in a Catholic school was very difficult until they finally ended up kicking me out, thank Goddess. From a very young age, I can remember asking my mother why the man was the one who led the services and not the nuns. I would constantly get in trouble when I asked questions as to why females were portrayed somewhat negatively in the bible. They tried to brainwash me, but I've been known to have an extremely strong character and thumbed my nose at all that they taught me about being a good little girl.

As a young Latina growing up in Los Angeles, I rarely had role models of women who rejected conventional gender roles. Most of the women in my immigrant neighborhood catered to their husbands and sons, my young friends catered to the boys in the neighborhood while practically doing backflips to get pregnant, and my teachers pretty much expected me to grow up and wipe a man's ass. Frustrating and depressing, to say the least.

The only refuge I had were my books and occasional shows on television. The first book that made my heart jump for joy about being a bad-ass little girl was The Paper Bag Princess. I've blogged about the book before, and the first time I read it as a child it was like a little light bulb went off in my head that I was not the only girl who was different than the others. It was the first time that I had ever seen a girl or woman who was portrayed in a powerful light. 

I later graduated to reading all of the Nancy Drew books, which I can't currently recall, but I remember loving as a child. I also fell in love with Anne Frank and Wonderwoman. I didn't have many other examples of strong, independent women and girls until I was in high school. After reading The Scarlet Letter in high school,  I made a pact to myself that I would never let anyone make me feel ashamed for my sexuality. The book The Awakening was the first time that I had ever heard about a woman who was not happy with being a wife or mother and would rather commit suicide than live a constricted life. 

These small little glimpses of unconventional women that I read growing up were life savers for me. Young girls who don't fit the typical mold can be prone to depression and might internalize that there is something wrong with them because they are different than other girls. 

I've been running in search of strong, unconventional, and diverse women for years. I look for them everywhere-in books, on television, in music, in real life and make believe. It's something that I need to nourish my soul on those days when I walk around and am reminded that I am different than the average woman in society. It's my own personal brand of therapy and sometimes the only thing I can do to maintain my sanity in a world of fools. 

Am I the only woman who was in this predicament as a child??

Counteracting the "Princess Myth"

Class is now in session!!

In my last post, I explained the itch that I have been feeling lately to reconnect with my teaching roots, and decided that I would kick off this week with a series of posts on teaching and/or raising feminist daughters and non-sexist sons. I'd like to discuss one of my very favorite books that expose children to a different type of princess than what they typically see in many of the mainstream books and movies regarding princesses: "The Paper Bag Princess". 

I think that the whole princess culture is pretty stupid, if you ask me. The castle, the prince and the fluffy dress have never appealed to me in the least. Someone once told me that she was going to put a curse on me so that when I have children that I will have little girls who worship the princess cult. Well, I most definitely hope that will never happen because it's something that I refuse to tolerate. The only princesses I want anything to do with are the bad ass little princess who knock the knight down and steal his horse. Or men who dress up as a princess.

"The Paper Bag Princess" is a great book to read to children, adolescents, and even adults in order to have discussions regarding the princess myth. It's also a great book to have discussions with boys and males about respect for women, selfishness and patriarchy in general. Let me tell you a little about "The Paper Bag Princess", if you haven't already read this classic book:

The book begins with a beautiful princess who wore all the pretty princess clothing and was of course betrothed to the handsome prince. One day, a mean dragon flies into the kingdom, burns everything down and kidnaps the prince. The poor princess is left with nothing, not even clothing, and she uses a paper bag to dress herself before she sets off to find and rescue the prince. 

The princess arrives at the dragon's castle and ingeniously devises a plan to outwit the big, bad dragon. She appeals to his ego (yes, HIS ego..) and persuades him to huff and puff and show her how big, bad and strong he is. The dragon soon grows tired of his huffing and puffing. Then she convinces the dragon to show her how fast he is, and the dragon zips all around the place to demonstrate his speed. Finally....the dragon collapses from exhaustion and the princess swoops into the castle to rescue the prince.

Immediately after she beats down the door and saves the day, the prince begins to criticize her for the paper bag she is wearing. He says something to the effect, "Princess, you have ashes all over you, your hair is messy, and you are wearing a silly paper bag. You need to clean yourself up before you marry me!"

And what do you suppose the princess did??

Well, she kicked him to the curb. She tells him, "You know what, you fuckhead?? You don't appreciate anything that I did for you. You are USELESS!" (My summary is obviously an adult reconstruction of the children's book, but she really did tell him that he was useless).

My favorite part of the story (besides her telling him that he was useless) was the ending when the princess skips off into the sunset. Instead of the "happily ever after" bullshit, the book ends with: "The princess didn't marry the prince after all". 

I absolutely LOVE, LOVE, LOVE this book and highly recommend it. I have even read it to adults when I have trained teachers, and they love it. You've got to have it on your bookshelf. If you only have boys, you should still read this book to them because there are many productive conversations that can be made regarding the prince's behavior. You can buy the twenty-fifth anniversary edition here.

Additional Resources:

Just because I am on the topic of princesses, there is another really great story called "The Princess Who Stood on Her Own Two Feet".  It has a similar theme--the prince doesn't accept a princess because she is too tall, too smart, and the list goes on and on.  You can also check out some additional non-traditional princesses in the Bad Ass Femmes store.

For some of you adults who have been trained that you need a man to take care of you, maybe some of you need to read this book to beat that princess ideology out of your heads--Prince Charming Isn't Coming: How Women Get Smart About Money. Stop sitting around and waiting for a future prince to save the day. You're a grown ass woman, for Goddess's sake!

Class is in Session!!

Lately I've been feeling an uncontrollable itch to get back into touch with my roots in teaching. Although I'm currently in the field of educational administration/management, I have been a teacher at the elementary and middle school levels. As all good educational administrators know, that itch to get back into the classroom never quite goes away. If you are glad to be out of the classroom, then you more than likely were a crappy teacher who shouldn't have been in the classroom in the first place, and definitely don't need to be in charge of a school site or school system. 

Working as an administrator in an urban school setting has its challenges, which includes working with a variety of people with different views, including some conservative people. As an administrator, I have publicly stated that I am a feminist a few times and the majority of people actually look at me in shock and/or awe. (Administrators are obviously supposed to be bland, boring people who don't have a life and don't rock the boat). 

I have a position that many other people in the institution would love to have, so I've decided that it is in my best interest that most people know the least amount of information about me, including some of my political views. Everyone knows damn well that I'm a political leftist and feminist, but I've decided to be selective in what I publicly say. I have begun to learn that the less I say, the more leverage I have because people don't know what to expect from me. Not to mention that it is often quite irritating and a major buzz kill to discuss feminist issues with a bunch of women and/or men who tend to buy into the traditional notion of gender roles. 

So I have decided that I will scratch my itch here on the blog, and kick off a couple of posts about teaching and/or raising children from a feminist perspective. I tend to get on these rants with certain topics, so let's see how long this will last. (Remember when I was on my Frida Kahlo kick? Well, I'll get back on that bandwagon sooner or later!). I'm most definitely not a mother, so my posts will be more from a teacher's perspective as to which resources are out there for parents who would like to raise strong, independent, and confident daughters as well as non-sexist boys. 

Stay tuned for my first post tomorrow about my favorite children's book that turns traditional gender roles upside down and provides an independent role model for little girls. Maybe, just maybe if you're lucky I'll even have some give-aways because I've got tons of resources that I have refused to give away over the years. 

Now, pardon me if I excuse myself because I've got a feminist agenda to spread. Knowing the perverted circles that I run in, some of you will probably expect me to be cracking the ruler on your asses to keep you in line. I just might do so, if you're lucky!! 

Every Strong, Independent Woman's Worst Enemy Just Might Be Another Woman

I didn't want to have to write this post, but apparently I am going to have to. I never want to be the type of woman who bashes or betrays other women, but lately I have been sick and tired of women who hurt other women.

I'm officially stating for the record that the people in this world who have hurt me the most in my life have been other women. Female colleagues, former friends, family members...you name it. I've carried around this naive "female solidarity" idea for way too long, and I am officially ending my belief in that nonsense.

I'm a bad-ass, take-no-nonsense woman. All ambitious, intelligent, confident and assertive females probably know exactly what I am talking about when I state that other women can be our worst enemy. Fuck the glass ceiling--other insecure females who attempt to maim, lame and "do us in" can be much more damaging than any man or glass ceiling could ever be. Insecure, petty and passive aggressive women just can't take a strong, successful woman and will try to do anything in their power to tear her down.

I will save my frustration and details for a later post. In the meantime, I have been poking around online and buying some books pertaining to this topic. I plan to continue on with this topic, because I am sure that it is something that most assertive, ambitious and confident women can relate to.

I initially started this blog to document my search for and life-long love affair with bad-ass women. I've always loved the stories of the whores, renegades, rebels and wicked bitches of the world. If you dig just a little deeper, you'll find that most of the rumors and myths that circulate about these women are bullshit.

Some myths were crafted with care by the women themselves (a much needed skill for all bad asses), but other myths and rumors were started by other people in an attempt to discredit, oppress or hurt strong women because they more than likely didn't fit into someone's boring little box. Femina Prudentia delineated a perfect example in her guest post about Jezebel; many of us have been taught that Jezebel was a whore, but we can't recall any whore-istic escapades that she had.

I've always thought that it is even more damaging when another woman is the one who is spreading rumors and discrediting strong women. I mean, hell, I expect it from insecure men, but I would love to believe in that ideal notion of sisterhood. So now I am on a quest to shed a little insight into these bitches who attempt to hurt and hold down strong, independent women.

A few weeks ago in the bookstore I came upon the book Woman's Inhumanity to Woman. I admire the author for her courage to write a book that she suppressed for over twenty years out of respect for that feminist cultural myth of sisterhood and solidarity. The author raises some interesting points in the book about indirect aggression between women through the use of rumors, gossip, social isolation and all such nonsense. I haven't yet finished the book.

Coincidentally, I came upon the "Odd Girl Out" movie on television last weekend. The movie is once again about indirect female aggression and bullying between adolescent girls. I figured that I would also buy the book to see what it has to say, and the book just came yesterday. So far, it's pretty similar to the previous book that I mentioned with a specific emphasis on adolescent girls.

And, just because I sometimes get fanatical when I am studying a topic, I also decided to get the book "Mean Girls Grown Up: Adult Women Who Are Still Queen Bees, Middle Bees and Afraid-To-Bees". The book just arrived today and it looks similar to the others, but with an emphasis on adult women and possibly indirect aggression of females in the workplace.

I was raised by a feminist mother to be a feminist myself. My mother came through the feminism of the sixties and the seventies and taught me that sisterhood and solidarity with other women is of utmost importance. I believe this and practice this with all my heart. But my mom also taught me that my worst enemy would be the envy and jealousy of other women who will want to hurt me and hold me back because they are too scared and/or weak to be a trailblazer themselves.

I think that we need to start having more discussions about the damage that women can cause to other women in addition to our discussions of patriarchy. In the meantime, let's all start slapping the shit out of these bitches who try to muzzle and box some of us wild women into a menagerie.

~In Honor Of My Amazing Single Mother~

Over the weekend I would like to take the time to celebrate mothers, including single mothers and pseudo-mothers (i.e., women who have not been my mother but have mothered me in very important ways). I'd like to kick off my little series with a post about my mother and the amazing strength that she has demonstrated her entire life, overcoming obstacles that many of us can't even imagine.

My mother is a survivor and the biggest bad ass that I've ever known. She survived a horrible and abusive childhood, a debilitating car accident which resulted in a broken back, a divorce with two small children, and many other obstacles. 

She was born to a woman who had eight girls and two boys. One of the boys died when he was jumping on the bed; he jumped out of the window and literally fell to death at my grandmother's feet. For many years, my grandmother tried to have another boy, which resulted in her having more girls than she was able to care for until she finally had another boy. My mother and her sisters say of the day that the final boy was born that "a prince was born".

When my mother was growing up, my grandmother emotionally and mentally deteriorated. All of my cousins and I know that she suffered from mental illness, but no one (including my mother) will acknowledge it. My grandmother ran away from a husband and got shot in the arm as she was escaping with her children. She married another man who ended up being a child molester. She finally married a decent man, who she settled down and raised "the boy" with. 

My grandmother, her husband, and "the boy" lived in one house and my mother and her sisters were forced to live in a house next door. The house had no electricity and no plumbing. My mother and her sisters went the bathroom in coffee cans, and they rigged up a long extension cord from my grandmother's house and slept with a blow dryer under the covers in order to keep them warm. My grandmother would literally put a lock on the refrigerator door to keep the girls out of the fridge, and she would make elaborate dinners for her husband and "the boy". My mother would eat cupcakes that her sister brought home from one of her jobs.

My mother refuses to discuss anything about her childhood. The few details that I have managed to piece together, I have learned from my aunts and two of my mother's childhood friends: 

• My grandmother would let men come around and molest the girls. When I recently asked my mother about this, she said that she was never molested because she was too mean and all the men were scared of her because she would "beat them off of her". One of my mother's childhood friends says that my mother is full of shit.  Something makes me suspect that my mother might be telling the truth though.
• My mother and her younger brother went to the same school and when it was raining my grandmother would pick up "the boy" and make my mother walk in the rain for three miles. My grandmother would wave at her.
• My grandmother was apparently the mother straight out of the movie "Carrie". They say that my grandmother called my mother a whore the moment that she started walking. My mother's friends like to tell about the time that my mother started her period-my grandmother beat her with a wet mop and told her that she was a whore and could now get pregnant from the boys.

When my mother went to school she found no solace from her abusive home. She was bullied by her teachers and slapped with a ruler and had her braids pulled for speaking Spanish. My mother recalls that one of her teachers told her that she shouldn't go to college because Mexicans weren't very smart. Her high school counselor recommended that she work in the fields picking vegetables before she got pregnant, although she had the highest grades in her class. I could go on and on, but I think you get the picture. Nonetheless, my mother told me that she never felt bad about her language or culture, despite what many of her teachers frequently told her.

My mother ran away from home when she was sixteen and got married to my father when she was eighteen. My father had an affair while my mother was pregnant with her second child, and my father left her for another woman when I was three and my little sister was two weeks old. My father complied with picking us up when he had to, but he would often refuse to pay his child support. My mother was uneducated and had a working class job; my father had a graduate degree and eventually became a stock broker. My father would often quit his job when my mother would take him to court to make him pay his child support.

When I was growing up, my mother literally wore holes in her shoes so that we would have food to eat. She hid her car in the garage at my aunt's house when she was unable to pay the car payment. She would work very long hours with multiple jobs in order to send us to dancing lessons, baseball practice, tennis lessons and many other luxuries. She always said that she wanted her daughters to have what she never had. 

When I was eight years old, I came home from school one day and my mother never came home. My father came to pick me up and told me that my mother was in the hospital because she broke her back. She was driving home from work in the rain, her car hydroplaned and she rolled off of a hill.  My mother had no seatbelts in the car at the time. As the car rolled over and over, my mother told me later that all she could think about was who was going to take care of her children.

My mother stayed in the hospital for months, and the doctors told us that if she would have broken two more vertebrates then she probably would have been paralyzed or would have died. When my mother finally came home, she couldn't work and she had to lay on a special type of mattress. Initially she couldn't take care of us, and my sister and I would have to get ourselves ready for school and cook and clean. After a couple of months she was able to walk, but she couldn't carry or hold anything. I have vivid memories of my sister and I carrying the milk cartons home from the store because they were too heavy for her to carry.

My mother suffered through intense pain for the rest of her life and frequent surgeries. To this day she has to get in a contraption that hangs on her door and stretches out her neck and back. There have been times when her back freezes and she literally can't get out of the bed for a week. 

Through all this, my mother managed to raise two intelligent and successful daughters with minimal help from a man. She gets up every day in pain and puts a smile on her face to work all day long. She has suffered many other setbacks, but for the sake of time I won't get into them. 

Every time that my mother pisses me off with her bullshit, I'm going to remind myself how amazing she is and how much she has influenced me into being a strong, independent, take-no-nonsense type of woman. Hear me roar. 

The gift that I will be giving her is a large painting by Frida Kahlo named "The Broken Column". I've blogged about Frida Kahlo in the past, and one of the main components of my lifelong love affair with Frida is in large part due to her story of strength and survival when breaking her back, much like my mother's story of perseverance. 

Happy Mother's Day to all the single mothers and/or mothers who have beat the odds!! 

¡Feliz día de la madre!

This is the Frida Kahlo "The Broken Column" painting that I'm giving to my mom:

~Bad Ass Women Can Just Walk Away~

Bad ass women have no problem with kicking a man to the curb if they are a waste of our precious time . 

I like the video 'Shut Up' by the Black Eyed Peas-I especially like how she goes off on the guy at the end of the video, and I like that she grabs her crotch like she's got some big ole balls. Because she does.

You can check out the video by clicking here.

You remember that the next time some jackass is being an energy vampire, ladies.

What's on Your Book Shelf?

A number of months ago, I bought the book Women Without Men: A  Novel of Modern Iran, written by Shahrnush Parsipur. It's been sitting around on my book shelf for months and today I decided that I would pick it up and read it. I just finished the first chapter and it's pretty good, but then again I am really a sucker for Iranian history, literature and film. 

I was just looking at the back cover and I noticed that the author, Shahrnush Parsipur, was imprisoned twice in Iran and spent over four years in prison. The book was banned in the 1990s in Iran for Parsipur's frank discussions of virginity and women's sexuality. She's currently living in exile in the United States. Now that's a bad ass women if I've ever heard of one. Imagine that-being such a daring little bad ass that it got her thrown into the Islamic Republic of Iran's political prison.  I suppose I am making assumptions that she's one tough lady; I'll hold off on making any more such statements until I learn more about her. 

As we speak I've got my little bad-ass-woman-loving "research assistant" investigating more about her. Let's see what interesting information he can dig up! Stay tuned for more information (provided she has a good story to tell). 

I'll let you know what you think of the book as soon as I am finished with it! In the meantime, you can read more about it or buy it here.

What are you reading??

Badass Bitch of the Day: P!nk

I'd have to say that one of my favorite badass women is the musician P!nk. She's so tough with her badass tattoos, sassy attitude, and wicked sense of humor. Here are a few of my favorite videos by her:

Stupid Girls: A video poking fun at superficial women.

So What: A song about her separation with her husband. I'd have to say that her husband (Carey Hart) is pretty high up on my list of men who love badass women for starring in this video with her after they had separated. Apparently they've recently gotten back together.

Please Don't Leave Me: Ha, I don't even know what to say about this one! You'll have to watch it for yourself. I really love her sense of humor.

Sober: A song about sobriety. 

Trouble: Badass Pink kicks ass and breaks out of jail. 

Dear Mr. President:  A political statement to President Bush. 

U and Ur Hand: She's just a badass, plain and simple. I love all her outfits in this video.

You can buy her compact discs or individual songs at the Bad Ass Femmes store. Enjoy!!