Saturday, January 30, 2010

I cannot find the Words-Cordelia Kritz

The beating, the crying, the silence

I cry from that room

That box of things

Mascara

Skirts

And cleavage

You expect me to fit into

Squeeze into

Cut off my arms and legs

And my short circuit

Annoying inconsequential non-human

Brain

I don’t need it

My arms and legs

I don’t need them

The only thing I would use

My arms for is to fight

Back

As you suppress

Drug and caress me

Tie down

And undress me

My brain I don’t need

I don’t need to think

While you shove me into

The murky waters

I lay unconscious

While I sink

And fall into a beautiful

Stunning

Sexy

Bloody

Beaten

Cut down and

Screechin’

Bleedin’

And beatin’

Body

Or carnage

A ravaged

Vagina, no wait..

Sorry I mean, Opening

You can insert

Your power

Into

Women

Wo-men

Just a portion of

Man

But without

The masculinity

Blissfully ignorant self inserted

Pride

Without the man we

Are nothing

Without a penis

We are nothing

So ravage me

Undress me and

Spitefully caress me

Spit on my temple

And I will stand here

Bloody and beaten

And I still cannot find the words

Friday, January 29, 2010

Cordelia Kritz

Why I am a Bitch

Bitch: Its original use as a vulgarism, documented to the fourteenth century, suggested high sexual desire in a woman, comparable to a bitch in heat. The range of meanings has expanded in modern usage. In a feminist context, it can indicate a strong or assertive woman, one who might make men feel threatened. When applied to a man, "bitch" is a derogatory term for a subordinate.

What is a bitch? Some would jokingly define the word as a female dog, if so when I am a bitch I am reduced to the intelligence and animalistic behaviors of a dog. I am a dog. A flee biting, ear scratching, fire hydrant pissing, disease infested dog. I am the lame dog with a lazy eye that limps to your doorstep. I am vulnerable, but you do not stop to take one look at me before I am sent to the pound to be “taken care of”. You see me as in need of help, but are too scared to come near me for fear that when you reach to pet me, I will bite back. So I ask again, what is a bitch? And you say, that it is a girl or woman that challenges the stereotype; who bites your fingers when you try to pet her face, who pisses on fire hydrants and scratches her flee infested fur, who eats scraps off the ground instead of on a silver plate, who wears no clothes not to offend but to be free from the weight of womanhood. I am a bitch; a bitch with free will and no limitations, a bitch who speaks her mind. So what are you?

You will not know what it means to be called a bitch until you imagine yourself in that girl’s shoes. You will not know what it feels like to be bitch until you have walked by girls whispering words of hatred in disguise. Yelling and screaming at a boy, this girl feels helpless and likes she is going against everything she’s been told. The boy says that she is over-reacting and that she should just calm down. The girl doesn’t calm down because she feels like yelling is all she can do right now. Yelling is all she can muster up when she opens her mouth to speak. The next day she has to be calm and nice as if she is approaching a small animal, she has to be sensitive. Because if she is not. If she goes against every social norm she’s ever been taught she will become what is most feared by every girl. She will become that bitch. And who would want to date a girl that is a bitch? If the boy continues to date this girl he is “whipped” and then he might as well be a girl himself. If he continues to be the “girl” he is weak and incapable of being “a man”. So the girl walks into the room, breath hitting her chest in hot spurts, sleeves rolled up from anger. She sits down, takes a deep inhale, and smiles at the boy breathless and unable to yell any longer.

“You are a son-of-a-bitch.” If you are a guy you probably are insulted right now. You’re thinking wow! I cannot believe she just said that. If that were the male equivalent insult to “bitch”, then it is important to realize that it really isn’t an insult to the male at all. If you are a son of a bitch then it is simply that your mother, “the bitch”, is to blame for anything you have done wrong. If you are acting inappropriately then, your mom must have brought you up poorly because why else would you be to blame? Nothing a man does can ever be blamed, because if he yells or screams he is just indicting his power. He is just being a guy. This is not an attack on males but merely what society has dictated to be “the norm”.

Misogyny is hatred towards women. Therefore, the word bitch is misogynistic and a word that although does not cross your mind when you speak it, defines intolerance. Animals in labor were, during the 1400’s, labeled with the term “bitch in heat”. So think about that. Think about what that means. That means that women are easily compared to an animal in labor. A pig veiled in soil rolling on the ground; an animal in extreme discomfort, crying and screaming from the pain. This is a bitch in heat; a bitch that is now a human being, rather a woman who promotes promiscuity or rather a woman who yells or shows ANGER. This woman you’ve all seen and you have all called a bitch. I know this because I have too. It is ok in everyday life. It is a word that is used so commonly that no one even frets when it is spoken, much like the word “rape” which is now used as a verb to describe doing well on a test (for example: “Man, I just raped my test!”). Since when did words that used to depict ideas of horror and censure become casual jokes that are thrown around on a daily basis? Why is it that we can use the word bitch against our peers and friends as a joke, when behind it there is so much more anguish than we dare to conceal? The word is not a joke and behind it all no one is really laughing.

Tuesday, January 26, 2010

My body...

My body fights. Itself, mostly. Sometimes other people. Sometimes against what it wants or what it needs. My body is a stronger fighter; it is only limited by my mental state. My body and my brain are one, coexisting to create a capable woman who can. She can do what she wants. She can elevate herself. She can nourish her mind, body, and soul. My body fights for what my mind believes, against the rainstorm of hate and violence and abuse of power. My body fights at all times, without fail or pause.

Sunday, January 17, 2010

The Takeover Casa Style

While working on the Dressing Room Takeover, to boost other girls' self- esteem, I can't help but think of my own less-than-ideal self-esteem and image. It is somewhat ironic and contradicting that I fully believe in beauty inside and out, and having confidence in oneself, when I lack seeing these things in myself. Sure, I don't look in the mirror and scream about how hideous I think I am, but I am still constantly criticizing myself, and looking at all of my flaws.

I guess it comes from being a perfectionist and wanting to be the best I can in everything I do. I've always grown up with the philosophy that I can always do better. While it pushes me to try my hardest and achieve my goals, it is as easily detrimental to my personal image and worth. "You can always do better": I could be prettier; I could be smarter; I could be less guarded about my insecurities; I could be less critical; I could be better at one thing or another. In my head, I am constantly thinking about the negative qualities I possess; among them being my enormous hesitance to let others see my negative traits. I am insecure about my insecurities.

I am fighting between the two me's: The strong, happy go- lucky, confident me that I embrace, and most people see; and the scared, insecure, lonely me, who is a combination of all the parts of me that I don't like, and I had denied its very existence for a long time. I am fighting to find a balance between these two girls: one that is strong and confident, and accepts, no, embraces her flaws.

With this in mind, I am more encouraged to help other girls help their self-image and worth, only because I see my own negative self- image, and don't like it one bit. I don't want others to be where I am now, and sincerely want change as a whole for the better.

Who knows? Maybe a little will rub off onto me.

-Anonymous