Keep It To Yourself

by the fabulous KateorDie (click here for full comic)

There's a consent problem in this world. And no, I'm not jumping on the let's-look-into-a-song-more-than-we-should-instead-of-using-that-energy-to-address-more-time-sensitive-feminist-issues-like-supporting-and-caring-for-actual-rape-survivors train. I'm talking about the thing that proceeds rape, or stalking, or sexual harassment, or invasion of privacy and self in other ways. I'm talking about the cat-call, and even more threatening, the stare down (sometimes accompanied with the even more scary moving-in-close).

There is something incredibly grating about getting cat-called, but more than that, it is the first step in a violent trifecta of behavior men (and some women) in general think is okay. That last part is what blows my mind. Men do it because they think it's just fine to yell whatever crass and moronic shit they can at a woman in close proximity.

Twice today, I was cat-called while I was in my car. I was listening to a podcast featuring Edgar Wright, Simon Pegg, and Nick Frost. I had just gotten off work. It was Friday, and I was in my personal space. I was looking straight ahead at the stoplight, laughing at my radio, and minding my own fucking business because it's my right to decompress after work. Unfortunately, some nongentleman beside me started yelling at me through my open window.

I ignored him. It was not my job to respond to this asshole, though many women often feel pressured to do so due to the acceptance of this bullshit in our country and our female guilt complex. Despite my efforts to deny him access to my life, he only got louder until he seriously screamed at me, jarring me out of Podcast Land, and straight into Bitchmode Land. I looked at him as unruffled as I could, saying nothing.

"Hey, anybody tell you you were cute?"
Insert my pissed off, know-it-all, Leslie Knope-angry face.
"Uh, yeah. They do. What the hell?"
"WELL YOU ARE! YOU ARE!"
Without exaggeration, he started laughing maniacally.

Luckily, my light had changed so I could leave, but I was instantly rage-crying. (DON'T ACT LIKE YOU DON'T KNOW!) Just as I was back in my happy place of podcast, it happened again closer to home. I ignored the unwanted suitor until he HONKED AT ME. I just shrugged and pulled off as the light (luckily) changed again.

What right did these strangers have to interject themselves into my life? What right did they have to use their "physical male dominance" to scare me into responding? None. The answer is none.

I've dealt with this most of my life, and learned early on to ignore it and keep a vigilant eye and ear open, but when does it become not my problem anymore? When does it become the problem of the violent, rude, sexually abusive men who do these unacceptable acts? The answer should be now, but it's not. It never is.

Stop staring us down like you want to eat us. Stop yelling at us like we owe you something. Stop borderline running towards our cars when you ask us for a ride, but we ignore you, looking for an exit ASAP. Stop calling us bitches when we DO respond and tell you no and/or to fuck off. Stop using your self-percieved strength to threaten us. Stop "giving us compliments" we don't want or need.*

We don't owe you a single iota of anything. Keep it, all of it, to yourself.

*unfortunately, all true incidents i have encountered

My Mom v. Diane Keaton

Well, I had drafted parts of this before Mother's Day with every intention of doing a cutesy, yet somewhat humorous, shoutout to my Moms. But then finals week slammed me, and my alma mater aka my sister's undergrad school decided to hold her graduation ceremony ON MOTHER'S DAY...... rude. RUDE!

But this comparison is one well known among our family and friends, one that my sister and I make as often as possible, especially when we find some new and hilarious way in which my mother and Diane Keaton are alike. (Wait, did I say alike? 'Cause I'm pretty sure they are one.) So even though Mother's Day has come and gone, this oldie but goldie comparison model is one that is here to stay.

1. They both get hilarious after a glass of wine.

2. They both dressed like this in the 70s. (Mom would want me to note that she dressed this way before "Annie Hall" was even a glimmer in Woody Allen's eye.)

My sister can look like young Woody sometimes, but that's another entry...

3. They both look like this now.

4. They are both neurotic, but in that adorable Diane-Keaton-as-an-overprotective-frazzled-mom-in-a-movie way.

5. Did I mention they look alike?

6. Goofs (by themselves, or as pictured, with their pals).

7. No, but I mean like, seriously, they're both from Planet Babe.

8. They are both strong, smart, creative women who note the importance of skincare, education, women's (and others') rights, cute fashion, and how dumb men can be.

LUV U LADIES!

SPOILER ALERT!

Daenerys Targaryen is a Bad. Ass. Bitch.

1. Just look at her. Look at her. LOOK AT HER!

2. After her psychotic, idiotic brother sold her into marriage, she decided to become a true member of the people to which she was now queen Khaleesi.

3. SHE DECIDED TO FALL IN LOVE WITH THIS SEXY ASSHOLE.

4. She ate the heart of a god damn horse.

5. She is a firm, but gentle leader. Like, she'll save your life from rapists, but if you use black magic to kill her husband, she'll like... burn you alive.

6. She WALKED INTO A FIRE AND DIDN'T DIE OR EVEN GET BURNED. Oh, and she emerged with a few DRAGONS.

7. She led the people she inherited from her husband through desolate wasteland instead of abandoning them for her own sake.

8. She took on a bunch of really weird, obviously wine-addicted warlocks to save her dragons children.

9. She locked a bunch of traitorous assholes inside an empty vault to die, then stole all their money because they sucked.

10. SHE JUST BOUGHT A CITY'S ARMY, TURNED THEM AGAINST THE CITY, BURNED THEIR LEADER ALIVE WITH A DRAGON, THEN FREED ALL THE MEMBERS OF THE ARMY...... AND THEY DECIDED TO FIGHT FOR HER ANYWAY.

Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen, you are my hero now and forever. No one will institutionalize me if I start acting with even half this badassery and power, will they? Alright, good. Now that that's settled, I'm off to take back the Iron Throne...

Or go to sleep. Same thing, right?

Papa Don't Teach

In the middle of writing my first unit plan timeline for my Master's program, I can't help but think about a discussion my peers and I had with our professor yesterday.

The particular course in question is focused around the multiculturalism we will see in our classroom on all scales, even controversial ones like religion and sexual orientation. The class is small, which is conducive to a lot of discussion. Because there are so few of us, we are able to be comfortable being extremely honest. No one ever fights, even when we disagree. Yesterday, however, found us all agreeing on the blatant errors in the education system. The number one problem? Lack of respect for the profession, most grossly illustrated by lack of pay.

Here's what non-educators don't understand: you have to know a lot about a lot to be a teacher. That is the easiest way to put it. More specifically: you have to know how to handle your subject (multiple ones if you're a lower-grades educator); you must meet national, state, school district, and school standards; you must learn classroom management skills; you must learn how to teach learners from all demographics; you must be able to differentiate for each of these students. You must learn how to plan, how to grade, how to teach (there is actually a method), how to reach every student. You have to learn how to balance between the technical (test scores), the outsiders (parents and some administrators), and the most important piece, the education itself. All the while, we are offered jobs on a contract basis for very little pay.

No one teaches for money. But does that mean educators don't deserve pay commensurate to that of doctors? No. Quite the contrary.

Just like a doctor, you have to be on call 24/7. The job never stops, even if you're a great time manager, because you never stop caring.

Just like a doctor, you must learn about many different systems. You must learn how each system works, how each system can perform at its healthiest, and how to diagnose and solve any problems within each system.

Just like a doctor, we have many patients, but we also have their families and advocates to manage as well.

Just like a doctor, we have to be trained explicitly. We have to care, manage, problem-solve, communicate, educate, practice, practice some more, plan, plan even more, and make sure we are doing only benevolent deeds. Our number one priority is saving lives. We may not take the Hippocratic oath, but we make a solemn promise to do whatever we can for our students to ensure no harm comes to them. Sometimes that oath is more literal than other times, but it is always something that we do.

But even average entry-level doctors make well over $100,000. The average entry-level teacher on the other hand? $30,000-$38,000 here in NC, depending on the level of degree they hold.

The saddest thing of all is not that the time, effort, and sheer amount of knowledge the average teacher must have to adequately perform the job is overlooked and underpaid; it is that if more men were in the teaching profession, we could more successfully ask for pay raises.

And as a female pre-service teacher who is spending the same amount of time on teacher training per week as a full-time job for zero pay, who must act as a doctor but get paid as a pauper, that doesn't sit well with me.

That's why it's documentary time. Something has to shift. If papa don't teach, then mama (and already-teaching papas) don't get paid? I don't think so.