baserinstincts

The Spoils of War

Photo by flickr user Captain Midnight.

It’s a very effective weapon, because the communities are totally destroyed,” he said. “You destroy communities. You punish the men, and you punish the women, doing it in front of the men.

This is what Maj Gen Patrick Cammaert, the former commander of the UN peacekeeping force in eastern Congo, told the BBC.

The article goes on to state the UN’s reaction and even says that the resolution is being hailed as historic.

Forgive me if I don’t jump up and down.

I’m more inclined to cross my arms, tap my foot and scream “It’s about damn time”.

UN Secretary General says that violence against women has reached “unspeakable proportions”. ANY violence against women, and especially when you’re talking about rape as one of the systematic tactics of war, is unspeakable.

The UN can’t really think that this a recent phenomenon.

Can they?

And why does it take thousands of women being systematically raped for the UN to take notice? What about the single woman that gets attacked in a random dark alley by some chump trying to prove his manhood.

How many women get raped here in the US every year? By their boyfriends? By their husbands?

According to RAINN there is a rape every 8 minutes in the U.S. 1 in 6 women will be sexually assaulted in her lifetime (look around you, chances are you already know a victim if you yourself aren’t one). Only 6% of rapists see any jail time.

As a society, we say that we care about basic human rights and that senseless violence against innocents is intolerable. But our actions say “yeah, except when those innocents are women.”

In grade school during a sorry excuse for a sex ed class we were told not to scream “RAPE” if we were ever attacked because chances are no one would come. We were to scream “FIRE” instead.

A dear friend of mine suffered an attack by her ex-boyfriend after she left him. She reported it and was attacked by him again. Frustrated with the inaction and seeming indifference of the police, she complained.

“Just calm down miss,” the officer told her. “It’s not like he killed anyone.”

Boy am I glad to know that if he did kill her, the police might actually do something about it.

Another friend of mine, an older woman, told me a the story of her husband beating her in public on the subway platform. A cop comes over to break it up. “This is my wife,” her husband said simply. The cop nods and walks away.

These are only two of countless horror stories I’m sure.

The legal system has done a piss poor job of protecting women against violence and putting the perpetrators behind bars.

But furthermore, this patriarchal society we live in is what makes it easy, commonplace and even accepted for this type of violence to occur in the first place.

This resolution that the UN has proposed has been a long time coming. And while I agree that we should help the women in the Congo and women all over the world to live safer, healthier lives, America needs to take a long hard look in the mirror and take care of home as well.

Time to put up or shut up.

Feeling the Love

I was at Loving Day 2008 and it was nothing short of awesome.

Besides there being free food, free booze, free ice cream and awesome music, there were plenty of diverse and beautiful people in the house.

Loving Day is an annual celebration commemorating the 1967 Supreme Court case Loving vs. Virginia that made interracial marriage legal in the US.

I, for one, could not even imagine not being allowed to get my swirl on.

Unthinkable.

Despite the tremendous heat, everyone was in good spirits and you could definitely feel the love in the air. I enjoyed seeing all the people; singles, interracial couples, bi-racial children. And the tunes were hot! People were dancing up a storm ad having a really great time. I learned some new things and met some cool people.

Go here to find out more info and get involved in Loving Day.

Vex Money

Vexed (adj.) - 1. Irritated, distressed, or annoyed

2. troubled persistently especially with petty annoyances
The concept of “vex money” was explained to me by my mother and is just one of many jewels given to me by her that I treasure.

All of the women in my family, on both sides, are fiercely independent.

There weren’t really many men around and the women made getting by without them look so very easy (and in fact preferable). I guess I always sort of had the idea growing up that men cramp your style (except during a couple of boy crazy phases during junior high and high school).

Anyway, one day as my mother was cooking (something that didn’t happen often so I remember it well) she said to me “Desi, never go out with a man unless you have money.”

I made some comment about that defeating the purpose and she just repeated herself more forcefully. “Even if he’s taking you out, you should not be going out with him if you’re broke. You must always have your vex money!” It was her way of telling me to make sure I had an out if my date ended up pissing me off.

I laughed it off then but it stuck with me.

My mother’s sound advice proved itself as such again recently when I was on a first date with a seemingly very sweet guy.

This sweet guy just seemed to be a little too fond of liquor for my taste.

For one, I could tell when I met up with him that he’d already been drinking for the better part of the evening.

It wasn’t long into the date that he was slurring his speech and talking in circles. He was amused by everything and as for me, well I wasn’t amused in the least. I suggested to him gently that he slow down a bit. He waved me off and ordered another martini.

Now had I not followed my mother’s advice I’d have been shit out of luck as far as getting home. See, he had promised to send me home in a cab whenever I was ready to go. But as the night went on, he got so trashed that I don’t even think he noticed when I just left and hailed a cab my damn self.

Now I know that on the whole women are independent and doing more than well for themselves. But there are still quite a few who depend entirely on a man in social situations. I mean depend on them enough to leave the house with an empty wallet and no way to get home.

It would be nice if sometimes we didn’t have to worry and let them take care of everything and yes, on occasion you can find one who’s happy to without being a creep.

But the truth is you just can’t put your stock in a man to take care of you. And yes that includes a simple dinner and cab home.

And what if he does turn out to be a creep or worse a lecherous bastard? What if he tries to feel you up (assuming that’s not what you want)? What if he’s on something or in my case extremely drunk?

Do you really want to leave yourself at his mercy?

You could end up like my cousin who got asked out on a date by a seemingly sweet guy. They had a great time. And when the check came he waited quite obviously for her to pull out her wallet (this same guy incidentally was with her some time later when his car got towed…he borrowed a couple hundred dollars from her to get his car back and she hasn’t seen a dime of it yet).

So I never assume a man is going to pay for me or make sure I get home safely.

And I always carry my vex money.

My Own Private Hillary

I feel for Hillary.

I’m not saying that I am a Hillary supporter per se.

I, in fact, didn’t vote for her in the primaries.

I do wonder, however, just how much of her perceived shortcomings and personality flaws have anything to do with her as a person.

Or does she get a bad rap because she’s a woman?

I sought to find out why Hillary inspires such strong feelings and such strong rhetoric.

I came across this article and it really brought it home for me.

There are many interesting points but this quote really summed up what I was looking for:

“Some of the more common adjectives hurled at Hillary are familiar to any high-achieving female. And, sure, the woman known in high school as “Sister Frigidaire” faces all the glass-ceiling, woman-in-a-man’s-job, underestimated, underpaid, overworked gender guff that also frustrates senators Olympia Snowe and Mary Landrieu. But what makes our reaction to her far more extreme? More than any other public figure, Hillary forces us to acknowledge that the path to power for American women is not all that clear, more an odyssey than a march…Ask your friends if their fear and loathing of Hillary has anything to do with her being a woman, and you’ll undoubtedly get a denial.”

It must suck to have people doubt your capabilities for no other reason than you were born with a slit.

And I truly feel that that is the gist of it. Hillary’s less admirable characteristics wouldn’t really be a big deal if she were a man.

And I know just how she feels.

I got promoted at work this past week.

It boggles my mind that in the four years this location of my company has been doing business, I’m the first woman to hold the position I hold now.

When I first began work in this department, I entered into a serious boys club. Having worked primarily with women for the entirety of my work history, I had quite a bit of adjusting to do. But adjust I did and I eventually earned the respect of my co-workers.

Well, most of them.

I found my victory (beating out two male candidates) to be bittersweet.

“Congratulations sweetie,” one coworker, who was now in effect my subordinate, said to me. “I’m so proud of you.”

Proud of me? I wondered if he would have said that if any of the guys had been offered the job. He made it sound like I beat the odds or something.

There was nothing for him to be proud of.

I worked hard to get where I was. I was the most knowledgeable and qualified candidate.

Period.

Another coworker, one of the guys who’d applied for the position as well and again was now my subordinate, quipped about how sexy women in power were and alluded to being willing to offer me sexual favors in exchange for a raise or promotion.

Was I in the twilight zone?

Just today, one of the guys almost bumped into me and then remarked snidely “Oh, I don’t want to hit the first lady.” A political debate ensued between him and another coworker, during which he states emphatically “America doesn’t want a female President.”

America, for him at that moment, was our department and that female president he resented so was me.

There was my boss (well he’s no longer my boss as we’re on the same level now), who tried with all his might to convince the panel not to vote for me (or so I’m told…the particulars of post-interview deliberation are not to be discussed once interviews are over but the scoop inevitably always leaks) saying that I was unreliable and that I was “too emotional”, but publicly, in the weeks leading up to the interviews, he was the absolute pillar of support.

And then there’s the Big Boss, who made no secret of his doubts on whether I could handle the job, even as he was offering it to me. I had to wonder if he’d have hit any of the male candidates with the same spiel.

And so instead of feeling great about my career and more confident in my abilities, I ended up feeling dubious and anxious.

I got over it though and decided the best revenge would be to prove them all wrong (bloody ignorant naysayers, the lot of them).

This speaks to a much bigger issue of course. Women in the workplace still don’t get the respect (and in many cases, the money) they deserve, even when they prove themselves, their brilliant, competent selves, time and time again.

Brilliant, competent women in the workplace are called bitches. Crazy bitches.

Brilliant, competent men in the workplace (and even men with talent that’s mediocre at best) are called CEO’s.

Pimpin’ ain’t easy (but it sure is fun).

I really don’t get why everyone is so shocked over the whole Governor Spitzer prostitution fiasco.

Do people really doubt that any of these politicians (much less the majority of them) are regularly cavorting around with working girls?

I don’t.

Maybe that’s just me being a jaded New Yorker.

Or a realist.

Wherever there’s powerful men and money, there are girls getting paid for their services. This is a given.

Not saying he’s right.

It’s just that they all do it…he just got caught.