Grainted

-

#MeToo is making a comeback on my Twitter, thanks to KavaNope in the US, and a comedian named Utsav Chakraborty in India. All the chatter about Utsav points to a consistently misogynistic personality - one that doesn't come through in the videos he acts in, or in his public persona.

Since then, person after person has been coming out with their stories. Of young men, of older men. Of colleagues and bosses. And yeah, none of this is surprising but it's still surprising and exhausting.

Yesterday a friend said something about how I'm really into 'the whole #MeToo thing,' and today somebody else said it and they still don't seem to understand how much these things affect us and everything we do. How much they take for granted. How I sort of don't have a choice about "being into the whole #MeToo thing."

My college roommate and I encountered this dude who also briefly attended the same college, and there were some professors and stuff we all knew in common. And the conversation turned to our history professor, and this guy goes off on a story about how he'd trolled her when she was taking a class for them. Asking dumbass questions that make him seem misogynistic when he really isn't, he's just trying to waste somebody's time. (If the pay gap is real, why don't women just take men's jobs? If gender is a spectrum then how does the pay gap factor into that?) II wanted to ask him if he's ever heard of punching up Vs punching down but I didn't have the energy.

[I typed "enwene" instead of energy and I feel like that's more apt.]

And the thing is my roommate and I both have ample reason to dislike this professor - she's made us both cry on account of us being very bad at researching and attending class and passing exams. Except we don't, whereas this bro to whom she's done nothing has nothing good to say about her. Just an easy target, you know? Just more punching down.

And it's honestly because we know how much she's done for various female students who needed support from the faculty because they were harassed or assaulted or worse. We know how far she's prepared to go. And we can imagine how hard it must be to keep teaching at a place that, despite your best efforts, consistently turns out some A-grade misogynistic morons.

Pick your flavour of Horrible Man(TM), and I can tell you I studied with them. And everyday I wonder when I'll have the courage to talk about them, and everyday is still not the day. Not yet.


Comments

Post a Comment

Leave an opinion!

Popular posts from this blog

Throwback: Waltzing to the Tune of Rhetoric

-
Written September 7, 2010 A dark series of squiggles make their way down and across the page, in that order. Cheap poetry and lame jokes are the order of the day. For once the silence has retreated and is content to watch from the top row of the bleachers. For once there's no raining on the court while the ball's in play. There's a rose that lies at the back of my locker, wilted and fading away. It's a rose I don't expect to see in bloom again. It's a rose I've put aside, but one I cannot bear to throw away. Perhaps I should consign it to the bonfire I've made in my backyard, out of all the relics from the past. Perhaps keeping it in my locker is dangerous, for it might bloom again. Roses such as this one have been known to bloom more beautiful than before, long long after they withered away into nothing more than thin brown sticks and faded and detached petals. And in my excitement, I might just reach out and grab it again, forgetting th
Read more

Sweet Summer Child: A Love Letter

-
Image
Photo by  Petr Ovralov  on  Unsplash Written December 9, 2016 I am not a gifting person. Years ago, someone suggested I write them something about love as a gift instead. I made many starts, completed nothing. Perhaps happiness doesn't inspire me the way sorrow does. Then last year came the first and only love letter I've ever written. Does it mean more if you write letters? May I? Dearest. When I met you, the only taste I remembered any more was the taste of ashes in my mouth. When I met you, the sun had cracked open, and loss was everywhere.  When I met you, you were a shadow, hidden among shadows, a nervous joke whispered on the winds of my thoughts.  When I met you, I was looking for a friend.  Then I met you, and the sun rose again, whole and healthier than before.  I met you, and the joke turned to undying laughter on my lips.  I met you, and I knew longing again, my soul unable to bear its weight.  I did not know you existed, and in the wee hours o
Read more

Review: Vampire Academy #2 - Frostbite

-
Image
Crossposting from Feminist Quill, written July 22, 2015 Book Title:  Frostbite Author:  Richelle Mead Year of Publication:  2008 Series:  Vampire Academy #:  2 Goodreads Rating (Avg.):  4.31 Goodreads Rating (Mine):  5 Plot Description:  The sequel to  Vampire Academy  picks up a few months after the first, showing a new stage in Rose's guardian training. Running away from the school for two years had meant that she spent the first book trying to catch up with her classmates, and  Frostbite  opens with her Qualifier exam - one which requires an external guardian to evaluate her progress. As her mentor, it seems Dimitri was able to get her an interview with one of the most legendary guardians around, and as a bonus, this means Rose gets to roadtrip alone with her crush. Her cute triumph at having scored ten hours of being alone with him soon dovetails neatly with tragedy - a Strigoi attack at their destination. And with that, Mead begins to unravel the clean cut rul
Read more