Catcalls in 2015

I look at the calendar and acknowledge that it is the year 2015. I am constantly reminding myself of that. Not because I fail to remember, but because I have devised expectations based on that fact. I have expectations that I feel society should be meeting. Expectations in regards to not having to worry about walking on the street. I expect not to hear catcalls. I expect that I should not be experiencing the disrespectful and often times frightening manner in which some men treat me. On the train, I should not be experiencing lewd stares, sexual comments, comments about my body, the heads turning to see my backside, or at times being followed. When I walk onto the train station, I should not have to avoid making eye contact. I should not have to be constantly searching for police officers or for security guards. I should not feel afraid on the train. I should be able to get up in the morning without having to worry about what I will wear, if it is too revealing or if it will bring unwanted attention.  

Perhaps I am being ambitious and my expectations are too grand or too strenuous for society. I find myself taking off my make-up as I go back home, as an attempt to prevent the comments and stares. I remove my jewelry, put my jacket on, and make sure my clothing is not revealing before departing from the train. I learned to look at the ground as I walk. When I get off the train, I make sure no one is following me, not out of paranoia, but from previous experiences. From the time a man had been staring at me on the train, and when we arrived at our destination, he followed me until I found an officer and stopped to get help. From the time a man followed me from school and when he noticed we were alone on the platform, he proceeded to try to convince me to get off on his stop. Out of fear I quickly got on the train and started a conversation with a woman I did not know. Lucky she understood and pretended she knew me as well. Once the man left, I explained to her what had occurred. We waited for the train conductor to come, so that I could report the man. The train conductor never came around to inspect that train section. I have many more stories that are more or less the same. Not all have been on the train or on the streets. I learned what a catcall is at the age of 14, when a man told me I looked like a doll and blew me a kiss, all while I was in line at the grocery store.

To those reading this and thinking that I am just another Feminize, who is complaining about what you may consider harmless flattery, I want you to know that it is not flattery. I consider it harassment. The so called flattery is an aggressive assertion of male dominance that is expressed by dehumanizing and hypersexualizing women, and I am expected to accept it as a compliment and disregard it or respond to it in a joyful fashion. I refuse. I am choosing to stand-up for, not only my rights as a human being, but for my personal safety. To be clear, there is a difference between complements and verbal sexual harassment. The crux of verbal sexual harassment, is that the attention, comments, and the lewd stares are unwanted.  I feel emotionally and physically uncomfortable. There is a difference between saying “you look beautiful today’ and “hey baby, I want you in bed.” Such sexual comments are disrespectful, dehumanizing, embarrassing, invasive, disempowering, and at times very frightening. To make matters worse, verbal sexual harassment it not only occurring on the streets, but is now taking place on the internet. I frequently see sexual comments on women’s pictures or comments on their post. Post that are in no way eliciting such comments.

What frightens me the most is not knowing when a sexual comment can lead to a sexual attack. The possibility of being sexually attacked is one of the most unsettling and terrifying things that I have to contemplate. I am tired of feeling afraid. How many women need to be killed, how many women need to be raped in order for men to understand that it is intolerable for them to commit such acts. I look at the calendar and wonder when the sexual harassment will end. When?

Video Games

My opinion of video games has concentrated on the possible harmful effects playing video games can bring to people. I have played video games when I was a child, but they never meant much to me. Being a book lover, I didn't find the stories in video games stimulating. While other people spend hours playing video games and some take it a step forward and buy the merchandise, watch the tournaments, join the clubs and whatever else exist. I ignored the simple question of why people enjoy video games. After many recommendations for video games, I decided to embark in the gaming adventure.
After playing a few video games, I began to notice some parallels between the video games and life. You enter a world and are given a mission or various missions. Many times your goal is to complete the mission alive, while other times you must meet certain requirements in order to progress. Sometimes you are expected to collect objects in addition to completing the missions. You are also present with an enemy or various enemies. You must destroy the enemy in order to either progress or to complete the mission. There may also be objects that can harm you and if you come into contact with them, then your life may be reduced. This is all very similar to life. In your life you are presented with various missions and there are material objects you need in order to survive. You meet foes in life but you do not destroy them physically, you may do so in other ways. Video games present you with challenges that you must learn to overcome in order to move forward. However, there is one aspect of video games that is not found in life.
Video games give you the opportunity to undertake the characteristics from the characters that are in the video game. These characters have characteristics that you would like to have as your ideal self. You adapt this new found identity. This new identity can be anything, a different being, a different gender, a hero or a villain, the options are endless. This does not mean that you are running away from yourself, but rather you are running towards your ideal self.
 Video games are like books and movies put together. Like with books and movies, some video games are very stimulating while others are mundane. The difference being that video games provide you with an interactive experience. You are the part of the video game, and the completion of the video game is based on how well you accomplish the missions.

 Happy Gaming   -SM:)E

The Girl on The Train

↔ A by-product of society.
Subject to mainstream culture. Consumer of all things "in." Wearing the typical American apparel she is tricked into thinking she should wear.
→Shoes: Studded black boots, probably from Pay-less or Ross.
→Shirt: White, style-less, long sleeved, under a black button up jacket from maybe Hot Topic.
→ Pants: Jeans, dark washed, and skinny legged.
→ Eyes: Heavy coated mascara, with slight defect mascara stains on her eyes lids, by Revlon (maybe Maybelline, the label is worn-out).Brown and medium, framed by long lashes.
→ Lips: Have a special cracked/pale lip effect due to 45 degree weather and no lipstick.
→ Fragrance: Probably anti-perspiring deodorant and nothing else.
→ Hair: Can probably be the "before" image of an anti-frizz hair product. Brown, slight waves to it, worn loose.
→ Face: Marked enough with small, red pimples. Never worn cover-up. Nose too big/broad for her face. Full cheeks with a deep dimple interrupting the curve of her left cheek.
→ Body: Made to never fit into a size zero. A muffin top that refused to hid under the waistline of her low-cut jeans.
 Everything about her screamed "ordinary." She seems to have been vaccinated against the illness of Vanity. Somehow she is always one step behind the latest trend. Sitting usually alone with a book in front. Often found looking out a window, lost in her day dreams. Never seeming to fit in, yet never stood out enough to be marked as a "freak." She survived High school. Made it to college. As the weeks went by, she found college to be her second home. Most of the students walk alone, sit alone. Everyone is in their own world, doing their own thing. No one looks at her. For the first time she feels comfortable going unseen. Just as she turns and looks me straight in the eye and smiles. I realize that she is no one else but myself.
-SM:)E

 February 15,2012