Change and bravery

Today I'm blogging for LGBT families.

--

Last night I was babysitting. And Josephine, who is seven, said to me, "You're old. You're a teenager."

"No, actually," I replied. "I'm twenty-two, which means that I'm not a teenager anymore."

"Wait, so you're an adult?" she asked incredulously.

I nodded.

"But you're a babysitter, not a mom," she argued. "You're still in college. And you live with your parents."

Every time I talk to kids, I'm reminded of how they're conditioned to accept life as some sort of clearly defined progression rather than the colorful mesh of experiences it actually is. To them, everyone

• gets a driver's license at 16,
• finishes high school by 18, moves out, then
  
• gets a college degree by the age 22, and shortly thereafter,
  
• gets married (to a member of the opposite sex), and
  
• has kids
  

Etc, etc. And what gets me is that kids believe this even when their own experience doesn't match it. Josephine, for example, is being raised by a single mother who doesn't have a college degree.

I open with this story because the problem, to me, isn't necessarily exclusive to LGBT people. It's about the freedom to lead your life however you damn well please without being judged for it. And I don't think that can happen until this idea of a "fairy tale future" is seen as equal to all other futures that children may grow up to have.

I came across a blog post recently that's actually more than four years old now. But its author makes an interesting point: "Being gay used to mean a little bit of fabulous, a little bit of edginess, a little bit of fight and a little bit of fun. It was about standing out, not blending in. And somehow we lost some of that. Our fight now is not for protecting our right to be gay, but fighting for our right to act straight. And that truly saddens me."

I don't think it saddens me, exactly. I personally cannot picture myself ever getting married or having kids. But I will still fight for marriage equality and the rights of LGBT parents, because I want everyone to be able to do whatever suits them best.

And I don't think that this problem can be fixed until kids are taught to accept futures other than the ones outlined above. I want to live in a world where nobody's situation--be it a personal decision or a matter of unavoidable circumstance--is stigmatized.

Mitch Albom recently wrote a pretty obnoxious piece about parents in Toronto who are keeping the sex of their child a secret. What he said really pissed me off, namely "The Toronto couple believe they are giving their child a 'choice' -- even though that choice was made by nature and was evident in the first pee-pee" and "If the child... one day asks a doctor to mangle its private parts in an effort to be something else, it still will be unable to deny that it was born one way."

Holy whoa, transphobic!

Now, I do have my own mixed feelings about the couple's decision to let their child choose his or her own gender. But my concerns have nothing to do with biology. My problem with it, as you may have guessed by reading what I wrote above, is that life will be made harder for the child by the constraints imposed by society. And as we can see from what Albom wrote, that's already happening. And the kid hasn't even left the womb yet.

But because I believe that challenging those norms is what's ultimately going to change the climate for LGBT people, I support the Toronto couple's decision to keep the sex of their child a secret.

My own coming out experience has been, for the most part, very positive. My parents and most of my extended family members found out last fall that I'm a lesbian, and overall, it went pretty well. So I encourage LGBT people to come out; it's important. At the same time, however, I acknowledge how hard it is. It's still hard for me, even now. As anyone who has experienced it knows, coming out is a process that really never ends. A neighbor, for example, was telling me recently about how she got married at the age of nineteen. Then she realized that I'm older than nineteen, and asked me why I'm not married yet. "Never mind marriage," she said, "Girl, you're way behind. You don't even have a boyfriend."

I could have been honest and said, "Well, besides being happily single, it's not exactly legal for lesbians to marry in the state of Michigan."

But because of her tone, I didn't feel comfortable saying that. Nor was I up to defending LGBT rights to someone who may not have been open to such an argument. (Coming out to my parents, by the way, was one of the most exhausting things I've ever done. It went well, but even so, I felt drained for days afterward. That thought keeps me from speaking my mind a lot of of the time.)

I've witnessed a lot of bravery on the part of LGBT people. Living honestly in an inhospitable environment isn't easy. I've made a few brave moves myself. And that bravery has done me a world of good, which is why I think that it's time for the rest of society to be brave, too.

Why I stand with Planned Parenthood

This was written for the I Stand with Planned Parenthood blog carnival, hosted by Fair and Feminist. For a list of participating blogs, click here.

--

I haven't written about reproductive rights since NARAL's sixth annual Blog for Choice Day over a month ago. And it's not because I haven't been paying attention. It's not because there hasn't been anything to write about, either. The GOP has been up to all kinds of no good lately. MoveOn.org has referred to their bullshit (accurately, I think) as a "war on women," and published a list of things that the GOP has done recently to destroy what matters most.

Notice that a few things are missing from that list. Like the Georgia rep who announced that he wants to investigate all miscarriages (to make sure that women haven't induced abortions--talk about demoralizing). And the House's recent vote to bar Planned Parenthood from federal funding. Neither of those things made the list because they came up after it was published.

So see, they're not stopping. I've hardly been able to keep up. that's why there have only been a few brief mentions of all this on my blog: Holy shit, look what the Republifucks are up to now...

It's all so overwhelming. So I'm grateful to Fair and Feminist for hosting this blog carnival, and providing a prompt, therefore forcing me to focus.

So! I stand with Planned Parenthood because really, it'd be stupid not to. What kind of person would I be if I didn't? Everyone should stand with Planned Parenthood--even those who voted to bar it from funding.

Yeah, that's what I said. Because what gets me about this bill is that it works against what the GOP says it wants: no abortion. If you really want to eliminate abortion, you shouldn't cut funding to the very thing that prevents women from having to seek one.

As fellow feminist blogger Katie Stack so eloquently stated on her Facebook page, "You can't have an ideology based on the idea that abortion is murder without taking away pregnant women's autonomy entirely."

And that's what the GOP wants to do. They may not say it (because hello, they know it'll piss us off), but they sure have jumped at the chance to act on it. And regardless of what they say, this bill isn't about protecting anyone--not fetuses, and certainly not pregnant women.

This bill isn't even really about abortion. Public funds aren't allotted for abortions (I think they should be, but that's another rant for another day). So many important services would be barred from funding under the Pence Amendment: Birth control, cancer screenings, HIV testing, etc. So really, what the fuck is the GOP doing, then?

And that's why I consider what happened in the House last week to be one of the most blatantly anti-woman acts I've encountered in my lifetime. If the members of the GOP were really true to their convictions, they'd look more closely and be a little (um, okay, a lot) more careful. But no. Instead, they just want to destroy the one thing they associate with what (or who?) they don't like. Because they see Planned Parenthood as nothing more than a giant baby killer.

(And we're the ones who are labeled extremists?)

In other news, Michigan governor Rick Snyder is busy trying to turn my state into a third world country. So naturally, I'm pissed. But what makes me even angrier is hearing people say, "Well, whatevs. It sucks, but I didn't vote for him." Neither did I. but I do live here. And I don't want to see my home go to shit.

Same thing with what's happening to Planned Parenthood. It's unfair that we have to work this hard, especially since we didn't vote for the people who are causing this to happen. But the reality is that the GOP isn't messing around, and neither should we. The term "forcible rape" was removed from the HR3 bill because we spoke the fuck up and demanded that it be removed. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't the biggest victory in the world. But it's something--proof that if we fight, we can win.

So we must. My mother worries about me, because she knows that the things I care about don't lie on neutral ground. She supports me until I start to piss off a certain group of people (read: the religious right). This is because simply enough, she's a nice person who wants everyone to get along. And I do, too. But the GOP has been pissing me off for a damn long time. Not just pissing me off, actually, but hurting me, and hurting those I care about. So if by voicing my opinion, I'm going to piss them off, then that's good. Because at this point, they need to know how it feels.

I know this blog post has been all rage so far, but know that I am hopeful. Seeing what erupted on my Facebook page and in the blogosphere within minutes of the vote in the House was pretty inspiring. And the Democrats still have control of the Senate. We have a pretty kick-ass president, too.

But that doesn't mean I'm 100% confident. Because it's still hard for me to believe that despite the efforts of everyone I mentioned above, the GOP has managed to do as much damage as it has--and in such little time! If I wasn't worried about anything, I wouldn't be so angry, and I wouldn't be writing.

Hopeful and angry is a good mix for me, though. It makes me do things, makes me act.

So, act. Sign an open letter to Congress. Contact your representatives--see how they voted, and send them a message. See if there's a walk for Choice event going on in your area. (There's one in Detroit on Saturday!) Share your Planned Parenthood story.

And whatever you do, don't fall for the rhetoric.

Announcing the "I Stand with Planned Parenthood" blog carnival, 2/25/2011

Earlier this afternoon, the House of Representatives voted 240-185 to "bar Planned Parenthood health centers from all federal funding for birth control, cancer screenings, HIV testing, and other live-saving care." To say I'm upset would be putting it lightly.

Luckily, Shelley over at Fair and Feminist has wasted no time putting together a blog carnival in support of Planned Parenthood.

If you'd like to participate (and I hope you will), click here. Leave your name, blog title, and URL as a comment, and add this badge to your blog.

If you've had it with the GOP's anti-choice bullshit, I hope you'll blog about why you stand with Planned Parenthood on Friday, February 25. Be sure to tag your post "I stand with PP."

38 years of Roe vs. Wade

This post was written for NARAL's sixth annual Blog for Choice Day.

--

Whenever this time of year rolls around, I’m reminded of an argument I had a while back with a former college roommate about Roe vs. Wade.

After I explained to her why the state of reproductive health care is still such an important issue--even thirty-some years after Roe vs. Wade--she looked at me and said, “Chill out, Amelia. Abortion isn’t going anywhere.”

“You’re right,” I replied, surprising her. “Which is why it should remain a safe and legal procedure for women who need it.”

At the time, I was a nineteen-year-old freshman at Saginaw Valley State University--a small school in the middle of a cornfield. (Now in my fourth year of school, I’ve since transferred to Wayne State University in Detroit.)

I was frustrated as hell. Tired of conversations like the one I’d had with my roommate, I wanted more than anything to know that I wasn’t alone in worrying about the state of Roe vs. Wade. The 2008 presidential election was just a few short months away.

So I picked up a copy of Gloria Feldt’s book _The War on Choice: The Right-Wing Attack on Women’s Rights and How to Fight Back_. All I had expected to get out of reading it was a much-needed affirmation of what I already believed in. But I got much more than I’d bargained for.

Feldt offered so many examples (some without even realizing it) of how women’s reproductive rights are jeopardized. Her book was published in 2004, one year after then-president George W. Bush signed the Partial Birth Abortion Ban Act. Hopeful, Feldt had hypothesized that the US Supreme Court would fail to uphold the ban. Reading her words four years after they were published, I knew that she was wrong. For on April 18, 2007, the Supreme Court had indeed upheld it.

_The War on Choice_ made me angrier than I’d already been when I first picked it up off the shelf. It also made me feel 100% justified in being so vocal (arguments with my roommate be damned), and inspired me to keep fighting.

And there’s still so much to fight for. Recently, NARAL graded each state on its support of a woman’s right to choose. My home state of Michigan received an F. Classy. Illinois, meanwhile, received a B-. I have friends in both states who have had abortions, and know that the friend in Illinois had to deal with a lot less anti-choice bullshit than did my friend here in Michigan.

If we’re ever going to succeed in eliminating all of the bullshit, it’s especially important to put faces of real women on the issue. And because of the recent shift in Congress, we’ve got no time to lose. Props to the three women who recently shared their abortion stories on MTV’s episode of 16 and Pregnant, “No Easy Decision.”

Reproductive freedom has long been on my radar, but is now more than ever. An anti-choice governor was recently elected in my state, and the new Speaker of the House is anti-choice as well. And people like them are wasting no time checking things off their to-do list. (Repeal of health care, anyone?)

But the election this past November wasn’t a total loss. What about that huge pro-choice victory in Colorado? Such victories can (and must!) happen elsewhere. (And isn’t Colorado the birthplace of the Purity Ball? Come on, people. Anything is possible!)

Michigan may have gotten an F from NARAL, but that doesn’t mean everyone in Michigan is anti-choice. I’m sure as hell not. There are brilliant, dedicated feminists everywhere--including schools like SVSU. (Hi, Dr. Rich!) If you’re stuck in a cornfield somewhere (like I once was), speak up! Our silence gives fuel to the anti-choice movement.

Roe vs. Wade is in greater danger than most realize. I wasn’t “wasting my energy” on worrying about it during the 2008 presidential election. And I’m not wasting it now, though I really ought to be spending that energy on actually doing something about it.

Women who, like me (and ahem, my former roommate), were born in the US after 1973, have never lived in a time/place where abortion was illegal. And I hope we never will. But that’s really up to us. Just because we were lucky enough to have been born with the right to a safe and legal abortion, that right may not always be there for us. (If you’re not convinced, do some research on abortion laws on individual states. Michigan’s not the only one that got an F from NARAL.)

While I plan to drink myself stupid in celebration of Roe vs. Wade on its 38^th anniversary tomorrow, I recognize that I have a responsibility: not only to those whose efforts made the passage of Roe vs. Wade possible 38 years ago, but to to my peers and to future generations of women who, I hope, will always have the freedom to choose what to do with their own bodies.

Blog for Choice Day 2011

The 38th anniversary of Roe vs. Wade--the Supreme Court case that legalized abortion for women in the US--is fast approaching.

To commemorate it, NARAL is hosting its sixth annual Blog for Choice Day this coming Friday, January 21 (one day before the anniversary of Roe). I'm going to participate. If you have a blog, I hope you will, too.

This is my first time taking part in this particular blog event. But having participated in Fair and Feminist's "THIS IS WHAT A YOUNG FEMINIST LOOKS LIKE" blog carnival this past August, I'm really looking forward to it. That was one of the coolest things I've ever been lucky enough to do. I was glad to have the chance to dialogue with other young feminists. A great sense of community developed that day, which has motivated me to keep blogging since. I can't wait to see what good will come out of NARAL's Blog for Choice event.

To sign up and get a badge for your blog, click here.

Why I'm a young feminist

Today is the "THIS IS WHAT A YOUNG FEMINIST LOOKS LIKE" blog carnival. For a list of participating blogs, click here.

I've spent the morning reading others' posts. It's really refreshing: Keep it up, everyone.

And now it's time for my contribution:

I'll begin with an excerpt from an entry I posted on the 37th anniversary of Roe vs. Wade, because I think it sums up why I identify as a feminist.

I received an email today from Cecile Richards, via Planned Parenthood's mailing list. In her message, she mentioned that "...this anniversary is always tinged with gratitude and immense responsibility." I feel the same way.

I'm grateful for the progress we've made: when Obama was elected, he overturned the global gag rule and cut funding for abstinence-only sex "education" programs.

But we can't take this freedom for granted; I certainly don't, even though I (like many women I know) am too young to remember a time when abortion was illegal in the US. And that's where my huge sense of responsibility comes in. This is still relevant: the recent death of Dr. Tiller and the Stupak Amendment both serve as proof of that.

So today I'm celebrating Roe while reminding myself (and anyone who might read this) that the fight isn't over, even 37 years later, and if we take what we have for granted, we might lose it.

The keyword is responsibility. I can apply it to everything in regard to feminism: reproductive health, education, and the right to vote (Women's Equality Day--which commemorates the anniversary of the 19th Amendment--was yesterday, by the way). I recognize that although I was born with these rights, many women were not. If I don't bother to exercise them, then I'm showing disrespect to the women who fought so hard to earn those for me.

Another thing: Last fall, one of my professors at SVSU pointed out that things don't always get better for women. They get better, and then sometimes they get worse. The example she gave was that there were more women enrolled in colleges in the US in the 1920s than in the 1950s.

If there aren't people who care enough to protect what we've gained, we'll lose it.

And that is just one of many reasons why I identify as a feminist. It has never occurred to me to think of feminism as a "dirty word." And so it surprised me to find out that quite a few people (not necessarily young people, mind you--I'll get to that), seem put off by the fact that I consider myself a feminist.

A few months ago, I added my aunt as a friend on Facebook. She took issue with some of my more politically-charged posts, and showed them to my grandmother, who called my mom and urged her to intervene, lest I "turn into one of those smelly feminists."

My mom is a wonderful person. We don't agree on a lot of things, but we do communicate. She told my grandmother that if she was really so concerned about my "feminism thing," she ought to just give me a call and talk to me about it herself.

My guess is that my grandmother (who was born in 1940) doesn't like feminism because in the 1960s and '70s, when she was raising children, a lot of women were working toward becoming more than just wives/mothers. And my grandmother chose to be stay-at-home mom, so probably felt that the feminist movement didn't respect her lifestyle.

Fair enough. But I'd love to show her how feminism has evolved. My mom's a stay-at-home mom, too. And I appreciate her immensely for choosing to do that for my sister and me.

But my grandmother never called me. So we haven't talked about it.

And that brings me to this: It's incredibly important for women of different generations to communicate with each other. And we're not doing enough of that. And so now there are older women who believe that young feminists don't exist.

And it depresses me (especially since I do interact with quite a few older feminists who know where I stand). As a young feminist, I have a great deal of respect for the women who came before me, and deeply appreciate their efforts. It'd be nice to have that reciprocated.

We're young, we're here, and we're working.

Feminism is big. It isn't just the wage gap or abortion rights or sexism in the media. It's all of those things and more. And it's impossible for one person to care deeply about all of those feminist issues and pour loads of energy into every single one of them. If we each tackle something we care deeply about, and then communicate with others to see what they're working on, not only will we accomplish more, but we'll have a better understanding of each other, and most importantly, will be able to see that we do indeed have very common goals.

Let's show 'em!

The New York Times just keeps filling me with rage. A couple of people over there (Gail Collins and Stacy Schiff) have declared repeatedly that young feminists don't exist.

Um, really? Because I exist.

And I have a blog. If you're a young feminist with a blog, you should participate in the "THIS IS WHAT A YOUNG FEMINIST LOOKS LIKE" blog carnival.

Interested? Here's what you need to do. Click here. Leave a comment with your blog name and URL. And then add this badge to your page. (I've already added it; look to the right.) A list of participating blogs will be posted to "Fair and Feminist" early Friday morning, August 27.

I think this is great. In April of 2009, I had the opportunity to see Gloria Steinem speak at the Macomb Center for the Performing Arts in Clinton Township, Michigan. Afterward, an older woman asked, "Why don't young people care about feminism?"

I had come with a bunch of fellow undergraduates on a bus from Saginaw, so we were all a little annoyed by that comment. A bunch of us raised our hands and said, "Um. We're here, and we care."

That situation has repeated itself many times over. We're here. We've been here for quite some time. And we're not going anywhere. We've been waiting for you to take notice.

Talk to us, not about us. It's the first step to accomplishing anything.