Women’s Rights – …on the B.L.

11… Books for Women’s History Month

March 16, 2020March 15, 2020 RaeAnna

Hanging out in the Iowa State Law Library in Des Moines, Iowa. | Skirt | Sweater | Shoes |

Every year, I like to read books dedicated to a few of the heritage months. Last month, I did not read as much for Black History Month as I’d hoped, oh well. I use the heritage months as a way to educate myself.

The one month I don’t celebrate through my reading list is Women’s History Month. I don’t need to. Not that I’m the most educated person on the topic, most of the books I crack are written by and about women. I find them more interesting. Gender studies is one of my favorite topics to read about. I tend to have to go out of my way to read books by and about men in the fiction genre – history is another story altogether. I just don’t care as much about the protagonists when they’re men. Sorry, but not actually. I have always thought a woman’s story, no matter who she is/was, is far more engaging to me than those of men. Men are great, sure, but I’d rather spend my time reading about my people.

I completely and full-heartedly support Women’s History Month, but I don’t make a point of dedicating my reading list to it. My entire reading list, all year long is a devotion to women, our history, our issues, our future. If you want to read more books about and by women, here are eleven of the books and authors who opened my mind and enthralled me as a young reader, as a student, and as an adult!

Rose in Bloom Louisa May Alcott
Incidents in the Life of a Slave Girl Harriet Jacobs
The Awakening Kate Chopin
Funny in Farsi Firoozeh Dumas
All The Single Ladies Rebecca Traister
Americanah Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
Reading Lolita in Tehran Azar Nafisi
Homegoing Yaa Gyasi
Herland Charlotte Perkins Gilman
The Second Sex Simone de Beauvoir
To the Lighthouse Virginia Woolf

bisous und обьятий,
RaeAnna

Books, NonFiction

Text Me When You Get Home by Kayleen Schaefer

October 22, 2019 RaeAnna

Worth A Read Yes
Length 281
Quick Review “Text me when you get home” is not just the title of Kayleen Schaefer’s book, it’s a phrase almost every woman has uttered for a lot of reasons, which Schaefer delves into in her look at modern womanhood and friendship.

Hanging out in a Houston Heights gazebo.

Text Me When You Get Home by Kayleen Schaefer | Sunflower Set | Shoes | Purse | Bow | Bracelets | Sunglasses | Earrings

Kayleen Schaefer had me at the title Text Me When You Get Home; The Evolution and Triumph of Modern Female Friendship because it’s an evolution and triumph in my own life. As a woman who grew up with mostly guy friends, I have found myself solely surrounded by women in my adulthood. I grew up thinking I was a guy’s girl; it turns out I don’t miss being one of the guys at all. Schaefer describes the phenomenon women are experiencing: female friendship is awesome and nothing like the media has been portraying it. Reading Schaefer’s words feels like unraveling my complex emotions and opinions on more than just female friendships but also my own identity as a woman and writer living in a male dominated world.

Text Me When You Get Home seems to be an anthem for women around the world “because women who say, “Text me when you get home,” aren’t just asking for reassurance that you’ve made it to your bed unharmed. It’s not only about safety. It’s about solidarity. It’s about us knowing how unsettling it can feel when you’ve been surrounded by friends and then are suddenly by yourself again. It’s about us understanding that women who are alone get unwanted attention and scrutiny.” I think we’re really saying I’m with you even when I can’t be with you.

Schaefer explores the complexities of female friendships and why they tend to seem so damn hard. It turns out, it’s really not our fault at all. Feminine self-hatred is so ingrained because: the media. At every angle, women are taught by the media that we’re catty, mean, unstable, crazy, hormonal, indecisive, and less successful. This ideology is forced down our throats so much it enters our conversations and how we interact with other women, which only reinforces these ideologies. The fact is, none of this is remotely true. It ends up being a cultural self-fulfilling prophecy rather than biological inability to love and support the ladies in our lives.

Female friendships are more complicated and deeper than male friendships because women are willing to go deeper, do the work, and lean in to one another. Schaefer isn’t afraid to take on the hard topics in Text Me When You Get Home. Friendship is influenced by everything, and women have to overcome all of these difficult topics and societal failures in order to have a nurturing and wonderful relationship. From the data bias (explored in depth in Caroline Criado-Perez’s Invisible Women) to the biological “tend-and-befriend” response to New York City’s female only residences (Barbizon, the most famous, is featured in Fiona Davis’ The Dollhouse and was home to Silvia Plath) to marriage to feminism to careers.

The most poignant moments in Text Me When You Get Home are when Schaefer talks about her personal experiences as a woman in a man’s world. The truly touching points involve her own evolution as a woman and discovery of female friendship. Female friends feed the soul in a way a man in any capacity is not able to, “I wanted my friends to consider me as necessary as they had become to me. I wanted them to know that these were long-term relationships and that I’d be there for them, too, in any way they might want.”

In the past century, female friendship has been the in between; women are companions until a romantic partner is obtained. Historically this has never been true. The last century has seen women isolated and conditioned to depend on men in ways we never have as a gender in order to keep the status quo for as long as possible. This new generation of women is calling bullshit. We’re showing up for the good and the bad. We’re saying Text Me When You Get Home.

Memorable Quotes
“Men do not tell their friends to text them when they get home.”
“My friends took me out of the way I was taught to be and turned me into something better.”
“I thought making friends with women would interfere with my career in more ways than just distracting me from work. I thought if I wanted to be a writer, I had to look to men. That’s because real writers were men. No one told me this. They didn’t have to.”
“Marriage was something to look forward to, I was taught. Without a husband, you were supposed to feel incomplete.”
“For the first time in my life, I treated pursuing and tending to friendships seriously.”
“Women aren’t allowed to be jealous, angry, or vengeful, at least if we want to go on being seen as good girls.”
“It’s the incongruity between stopping ourselves from seeming anything but pleasant while ambitious, on one hand, and the belief that all women can’t have good things, on the other, that creates frenemies.”
“We can be protectors.”

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Title: Text Me When You Get Home; The Evolution and Triumph of Modern Female Friendship
Author: Kayleen Schaefer
Publisher: Dutton (Penguin Random House)
Copyright: 2019
ISBN: 9781101986141

In My Own Words, Lifestyle

I Am A Servivor

October 12, 2019 RaeAnna

“Just another career-obsessed, nail-biting, manophobic, hell-bent feminist she-devil.”

I hate the title survivor.

I’m not a victim. Not anymore. I was a victim when it was happening. But after…

There isn’t a word I’ve found to resonate with my broken pieces. And I’m a words-person. Silence. Nothing. Guilt. Solitude. Shame. Numb. Lost. Broken. They’re not titles I can put on a shirt or a sign to identify myself as one of many in a march. They are feelings. The feelings that have never left me from the moment his hands first touched me with violence in their intent.

I never say, “I’m a survivor,” or “I survived.” I can’t. It feels like a lie. It would be a lie. I didn’t. I did not stand up as the same girl he held down. I didn’t survive. Rape is murder. He murdered who I was. Every time killed a part of me.

The closest I’ve ever come to finding a way to describe myself is “raped,” but people don’t like that. If people have to face humanity’s ability for violence and destruction, they want to see someone strong and owning it or broken and hiding it. Survivor. How happy. How uplifting. What a positive spin on a tragic epidemic. It’s ignoring the actions that were survived. Focusing on the survivor having survived. Past tense. It happened. It’s done. Let it go. Move on.

Survivor. It’s a bow to wrap up a present we don’t want to open. We know the gist of what happened. Some hazy sort of violence. No specifics needed; that one word says it all. It tears down the facade we’ve so diligently constructed, letting people in just enough for them to know there’s a dark past but not enough they actually know a damn thing. Survivor: say the word. People get a sad look in their eyes, “I’m so sorry.” But stop there. It’s a bow to wrap up the story people don’t want to hear.

Ignoring the story, the nitty gritty of it, is its own kind of violence.

Putting people at ease, letting them remain in their comfort zone is easy, kind. It does not facilitate change. If people are comfortable, they’re complacent. Change comes from agitation rooted in pain and suffering. I don’t write about this because it’s fun to dwell in the dark pain of someone’s choices to destroy my mind and undermine my identity. I write because I was raped. I was raped for years. I was beaten. I was abused. I was shared. I was torn. I was hurt. I write because too many people can say the same. Some say it. Many do not. Silence is a virtue. I don’t have that virtue. I had no voice for so long, but I have one now. I tell my story to make people uncomfortable. I tell my story because it is time for change. I tell my story because it has helped people, opened minds, changed minds, softened minds, and made people angry. I tell my story because I can. Many are not able to because of pain or circumstance or they’re no longer alive to tell theirs. I am still here. A broken, tired, angry, hurt version of who I used to be. I did not survive, but I am still here.

I have been writing and blogging and processing in various ways for almost a decade. In college, I wrote under a pseudonym about being a stripper to pay for school and food and a roof not because I was ashamed but because I didn’t know what my future was uncertain. After college, I started a blog to talk about my life and how I struggle to pick up the pieces of my soul. A few years ago, I started …on the B.L., and it quickly grew into something real with a following. I haven’t kept my past or advocacy separate from this, but I haven’t focused on it either. It’s been present by quiet. But no more. This is the driving force behind everything I do. Creating change. My story, as painful as it is, keeps me going.

I hate the word survivor. I don’t feel like I survived. I feel like I just didn’t die; though, there were years I wished I had. I like the word servivor. I’m using my story to serve others by creating change in whatever way I can.

I am a servivor.

I will stand tall. I will stand firm. I will tell my story. I will serve.

In My Own Words, Lifestyle

I Will Say “Tampon”

June 18, 2019June 23, 2019 RaeAnna

I recently saw this jar of tampons in a unisex bathroom in a Houston restaurant. I got to thinkin’.

I want to talk about tampons. I get to talk about tampons because this is my blog, and I can talk about anything I want. Today, it’s tampons. You do not have to be here or read this or care about my opinions.

It’s not that I love talking about tampons. It’s more of a need. There’s a need to talk about them. Tampons make people uncomfortable. Tampons make women uncomfortable. Talking about them; we wear them just fine. Tampons make men uncomfortable. Tampons completely bewilder men. How is it that half of the population has almost no clue how tampons work? I have dated a handful of men, and none of them knew how a tampon worked. (I once showed my college boyfriend how they worked.) There are girls out there who don’t know how tampons work. Insanity! Do not make girls wear the mini, sticky diapers, I mean, pads. Unless that’s their choice. Then, I’m just in disagreement with their life choices.

Periods, in general, elude men. I found out recently a whole section of men think women can just hold it. “It” being our periods. I’m pretty phenomenal and impressive, but I can’t hold my period. I don’t know any woman who can. It shows up whenever it wants to. It’s like a hurricane or an earthquake. There are signs, but once it’s on its way, there’s no stopping it. Mother nature is miraculous. Periods differ from pee. They come out completely different holes. Spoiler the urethra and the vagina are different. One is for pee. One is for babies and sexy time. There is bladder control, but there’s no such thing as uterine lining shedding control. That’s why women NEED tampons or pads or diva cups or Thinx (I had to google “magic period underwear” cause I couldn’t remember what they’re called) or whatever other weird invention is out there.

I don’t blame men or women for not knowing about tampons or periods. The education system is failing us. This is a basic bodily function like peeing or shitting. It happens. It’s nature. Everyone should know about it. Everyone should know about tampons and the other contraptions. Tampons make it easier for women to carry on with our lives. It’s far better than being sent to a tent outside the city for a week. (Although, there are times when that doesn’t seem half bad. Especially if the tent has a spa or pool boys.)

In April, my period showed up unexpectedly while I was at to Axpona, an audio expo, with my dad. My dad, bless his heart, is immune to period talk because I grew up in a house where it was normal!!!! Periods happen. My dad never had a problem buying tampons or grabbing one from the bathroom for me. It’s life; he’s a good dude. During the unexpected visit from my underwear demon, I had no tampons with me. I was at an expo made up of 98% men, and the only place with tampons was a CVS kiosk. I bought the box; it was the only option. My mom tried to make me hide the box in my tiny purse. I didn’t. I walked through the many, many men, who were all around my dad’s age, with a box of tampons on full display. My mom was embarrassed. I was not. The men either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Either way, the only person who cared was my mom. Periods happen. Tampons help. We should never be embarrassed by either one.

I always get excited when I see unisex bathrooms. I think they’re great. What makes me even happier is when I see tampons in a bathroom. Recently, I was in a unisex bathroom with a counter. The only thing on the counter was a glass jar of tampons [pictured above]. This seems small, but it’s really not. It’s kind to the women who need tampons. More importantly, it’s a step in the right direction towards normalizing the female body and all that goes with it. Like tampons.

There are so many things I could talk about when it comes to tampons. Tax. Diva cups. Stigma. Education. Toxic shock syndrome. Plastic. Chemicals. Fertility. The list goes on. I have opinions, obviously. My biggest issue surrounding tampons is the stigma. I want it to disappear. Until a doctor will give me a hysterectomy (I keep asking), I will have a period and a need for tampons. I’m going to say “tampon” and “period” with as many decibels as is necessary. Never will I speak in hushed tones or try and hide a tampon to make other people feel comfortable.

This is life. Periods, literally, help bring life into this world. So… yep!

Books, NonFiction

I Should Have Honor by Khalida Brohi

September 7, 2018September 7, 2018 RaeAnna

Read Yes
Length 224
Quick Review As a little girl, her father wanted her to be a doctor, but she grew up to heal what doctor’s cannot: a healer of souls. A tragedy that began in love lead Khalida Brohi down a road that would help her change her family, change her country, change the world, and bring her love.

I Should Have Honor is Khalida Brohi’s memoir. Through her story, she also tells the story of her people. Before the age of 30, she has already accomplished so much good in her community and the world at large. She is the creator of the Sughar Foundation. With her husband, they founded the Chai Spot. Her life, from a very young age, has been dedicated to lifting women up and bringing an end to honor killings. Through her work, she has faced adversity, hostility, threats, and survived a bombing. Her resiliency allowed her to look passed these people’s actions, which stemmed from fear and ignorance, to continue her work helping women across Pakistan and the world.

Brohi grew up in tribal Pakistan. Her father had been lucky to have an education and believed his daughters should have one too. This was not common; it was hardly condoned. The combination of a progressive father, an education, a strong will, and a caring heart launched her on a mission to end honor killings in Pakistan and everywhere else. Her cousin was murdered in the name of honor at a very young age because she fell in love with someone she had not been betrothed to. This revelation rocked Brohi’s world setting her on the trajectory that led to her activism and social entrepreneurism.

This book came into my life as I renamed my blog. In my teen years, my life was irreversibly changed by a man taking what he thought he deserved. Brohi fights against honor killings in Pakistan. I have been speaking out against sexual and domestic violence in the United States for several years now. I don’t have the stage she does, but I want to start using my platform to advocate for women in my country struggling against a different kind of adversity. I found a kindred spirit in Khalida Brohi and I Should Have Honor.

Pakistan is drastically different than the United States and the Western world in many ways. I have had an interest in Southwestern Asia for several years now, so many things were not new to me. For those that have not read extensively about the region, Brohi does an incredible job providing background information on the politics, culture, religion, history, and even the clothes to help the reader understand and empathize with her people.

On of the things I admire so much about I Should Have Honor is her honesty in her early faults. In the beginning, she believed happiness and freedom looked a certain way for women. Through meeting and talking with and being challenged by women she was close to, she learned to accept women’s choices, and there is no one path to happiness or even equality. Change can be made through many routes. When she first began her advocacy journey, Brohi didn’t realize the need to change women’s minds about traditional practices as much if not more than she needed to change the men’s.

I Should Have Honor is not a very long book. The chapters are short, which makes it perfect for anyone who wants to read it, but can’t sit down for long sittings. There are so many personal touches and stories; it’s not a book you’ll want to speed read. I took my time with this one. Enjoying every word because this book, Khalida Brohi’s origin story, matters. It will continue to matter for many, many years to come.

Buy on Amazon.com || Buy on BookDepository.com

Memorable Quotes
“Two children, two stories, were becoming one.”
“I slowly learned that “honor” killings – a custom not ordained by religion, caste, or tradition but done solely to restore men’s egos – weren’t just my tribe’s issue but took place all across Pakistan and all over the world.”
“They couldn’t see the wrongs in the cultural restrictions that I was trying to describe, or the physical and emotional harm some traditional inflicted on women.”
“Women’s mind-sets were also part of the problem.”

Title: I Should Have Honor; A Memoir of Hope and Pride in Pakistan
Author: Khalida Brohi
Publisher: Random House
Copyright: 2018
ISBN: 9780399588013

Lifestyle

Dear Black Women

February 1, 2018 RaeAnna

Dear Black Women,

Happy Black History Month!

I have a small yet growing following on social media. So I’m going to use that platform to talk about something all month long that is really, really important to me: you.

I am a feminist. I am a white woman. My feminism includes you. My feminism is inclusive.

Women have to deal with some real bullshit. There are some upsides, though. Having to deal with being treated like less, working harder to prove we’re equal, being observed as sexual playthings years before it’s appropriate, and more because there’s a lot bullshit. We’re humans. We deserve respect. We deserve to live our lives our way without fear or judgement or interference from people who have no idea who we are.

I’m white. Those are my experiences. I’m writing this to you because you have different experiences. You don’t have the privileges I do. You have to live life in a way I never will. You have to take precautions I never will. You have to deal with microaggressions and racism I never will. You have to deal with discrimination and harassment and sexuality in ways I never will.

I’m sorry you have to go through that. I wish it weren’t your reality.

Sadly, this world is nowhere near postracial. I love that people think since we had a black president *poof* racism, finito! Those people died the moment Obama was elected because things are not ok. We – as a country, I didn’t – voted Darth Cheeto into office. Unfortunately, 53% of white women voted for that ass hat wearing mongoloid. (I hate using language like mongoloid but yikes, he’s deficient and it’s dated.) We live in a world where #blacklivesmatter is controversial. WHAT??? Ugh. (Just so we’re clear, I’m pro #blacklivesmatter.) We live in a world where black boys and men and women and children are dying because of the police. We live in a world where 1 out of 3 black males will be incarcerated at some point in their lives. We live in a world where black women wearing their hair natural is seen as a political statement. We live in a world where black women are angry and black men are dangerous. I think the only time I’ve ever heard a black woman yell in real life is at step competitions. Let’s just say, the only men I’ve seen with guns are white. This list can go on and on and on.

We all have biases. That can’t be avoided. I’m sure I have been insensitive. I hope if I am someone points it out to me, so I can learn from that experience. The thing is we can learn and do better and change and make this world fair for our children and our grandchildren. But it takes making an effort, learning, and communicating. We have to take ownership of the past and the present. (This is more of a white people issue.)

It’s sad that we have to have Black History Month. IT SHOULD BE DISCUSSED EVERYDAY!!! It’s important. Your history is my history because we’re people, we’re Americans. We need to recognize the faults we made and the faults we make. If it’s not part of the discussion how will we learn?

This month is an ode to you. Every day, I will post on social media about a fabulous black woman past or present. Narrowing it down to 28 is rough. Some may be famous, and some may be friends of mine. I think it’s important to recognize the accomplishments of women and especially black women because if we see excellence achieved by people similar to ourselves we know it’s possible. If we know it’s possible, we won’t just dream. We will act and be amazing ourselves breaking down gender walls and racial walls. Every success made by a woman and a black woman is a step forward for all of us no matter how small.

Women need to stand together. We have no chance if we don’t. Historically, white women have always benefited from the oppression of woc (women of color). Feminism has been historically white centric. When “women” were fighting to work, woc had been working for years because they didn’t have a choice. When “women” won the right to work, they depended on the low wages of woc to do the things around the house they were no longer doing because men didn’t pick up the slack. White women have benefited from the inequality.

Black women have been the leaders in change but never received any credit. A lot of the actions, ideas, and more that helped gain freedoms for white women originated in black communities… but no one cared until a white voice spoke it. A whole bunch of fashion, music, dance, etc trends over the past centuries, which have been popular in the US, have roots in black communities. Yay cultural appropriation… Totally fair and not at all offensive.

Dear Black Women. You are seen. You are important. You are spectacular. You matter. Your experiences are significant. Your voice should be heard. You are worthy. You are smart. You are funny. You are complex beings with layers upon layers of emotions, experiences, actions, dreams, and more. You deserve the best. You deserve the right to be yourself. (I hate telling women they’re beautiful because there are so many other things I can and should compliment them on, but I don’t think you hear it enough.) You are beautiful. You are a knockout just the way you are.

Love,

RaeAnna
Founder of Bookish Liaisons

P.S. I’m hoping white people read this, and learn something. We can always learn something. I have lots to learn.
P.P.S. To other nonblack women of color. You also matter!
P.P.P.S. Dear White People. If you find yourself angry: good. You obviously need an education. Also there are opinions in here that are my own. The facts I talk about are facts. They cannot be refuted. You may try; I will block you. I hope you learned.