What does being a girl mean to you? (By Becka W.)

Becka W. wrote this piece in response to a question I posted under my Writers Wanted tab: "What does being a girl mean to you?" Becka blogs about feminist issues and her work has been featured on Fbomb multiple times – check her out at Becka Tells All!

Being a girl takes guts. 

I can walk with my feet 3 inches off the ground for the whole day. I walk down streets alone at night in a short skirt even though so many in my society tell me that it’s dangerous for a girl to be out alone, that a man may take advantage of her – and that it’s her fault if she doesn't cover herself up. 

I dream of careers in comedy or media or politics, despite the fact that all of those areas are notorious boys’ clubs.

  

Being a girl takes compassion and the will to act. I hear stories of other women’s rapes or fights with the healthcare system and I want to help them out. I hear about inequality and injustice in the fight for LGBT rights and I remember how rough it was – still is – for women to be accepted as powerful figures in our society, and I fight with them. I hear about a blood drive, or a cancer research walk, or a charity benefit and I feel compelled to participate. I don’t hate men, I just hate some men who don’t care about girls. I don’t hate conservatives, I hate that they’ve co-opted religion as their defense against women’s reproductive rights. I know how to see shades of gray. 

Being a girl takes confidence. We’re told to look a certain way, to behave a certain way, to like certain things. The fact that I am heavier, hate sitting with my legs crossed, and like Star Wars, Star Trek, comic books, and raunchy comedies more than I enjoy chick flicks doesn’t make me less of a woman. 

It makes me a more complex one. 

Girls are told to be one way, and to be any other way takes guts and confidence and independence and faith in oneself – and every girl is different from that image, that stereotype.

  

Being a girl means being awesome, intelligent, fantastic, strong, independent, fun, adventurous, kind, smart, and great.

____________________________

I'm curious to know what "being a girl" means to YOU. Send your response to teenagefeminist@gmail.com, and I might just post it!

Love the Body You've Got (Take it From a Fat Girl)

I've never seen anyone like Beth Ditto in
the limelight before; I think her beauty is
absolutely magnetic. Hooray for confidence!

I recall a time in elementary school when a friend tried to defend me from a few bullies by saying that I "wasn't fat, just big-boned." A few years later, I had a teacher who — probably in an attempt to keep my ego intact — wouldn't let kids say "fat" in class, only "fluffy."

To set the record straight, I do not have abnormally large bones. And I am not, nor have I ever been, a rabbit. But whether it's these sugar-coated terms or the painfully unoriginal "ugly fat girl," I've never quite been able to shake my overweight status for long.

Despite a few traumatizing events (i.e. falling off the jungle gym, losing my paper pilgrim's hat on Thanksgiving, etc.), I have relatively good memories of elementary school. I was about a foot taller than everybody else and began experiencing all the joys of early puberty (ah, training bras!), but I still don't remember those days in terms of my body. Rather, I remember going insane on Field Day (I still have the ribbons to prove it), competing with my classmates to see who could write the most numbers (we had to sprawl our lists out in the hallway to measure them), and playing "The Magic Scrap" when our teacher needed to trick us into cleaning up our messes.

Middle school was a different story. I don't know what they started putting in the Capri Suns the summer between my 5th and 6th grade years, but everybody got meaner while I became more and more self-conscious. I was significantly - shall we say, heftier - than my classmates, and there were always those intent on reminding me that I was fat and they were not.

I was an emotional wreck. Whether people recognized it or not, I was basically writhing in my own skin, caught between trying to wear clothes that were "hip" (and feeling awkward), and falling back on dingy jeans and band t-shirts (and still feeling awkward).

I love Adele. But whenever I go on
Youtube all I see are comments
saying how "fat" she is. Tell me
this woman isn't beautiful.

High school, I am proud to say, is much better. No overweight teen is going to escape the negative comments that inevitably bounce through high school hallways, but I've found a comfortable niche among friends and clubmates where I feel almost immune to that sort of thing. I've been living by the mantra "If it won't matter in five years, don't worry about it."

But last week, after a several-month streak of body positivity, somebody really hurt me. And I don't even think they meant to.

Long story short, this person (who is probably a size 4 or smaller) complained about how much weight they've gained and, in a not-so-subtle way, alluded to the fact that I was unhealthy. Really? You're going to complain to me about how much weight you've gained? And then you're going to criticize my health, despite the fact you know how hard I bust my butt for school, projects, and all the stuff I'm involved with? I was literally thinking: "Sorry, insert-name-here, I haven't had much motivation to exercise lately. Hard to imagine why."

Needless to say, I felt really crappy when I got home that day. But then I found these posters in the Love Your Body Day section of the NOW website and immediately felt better.

My favorite poster.

To top it all off, I also found this quote in a random comment on the Ms. Magazine website:

The less we judge each other by the contours of our bodies, the more clearly we will see the true content of each other's characters.

Isn't that awesome?

It reminded me that in the grand scheme of things it doesn't matter what we look like, just what we do. We're not going to be remembered for being a size 4 (or 24), so we might as well make the most of life without letting insecurities "weigh" us down.
______________________________________________________________

You may not know Beth Ditto (pictured above), but she's the lead singer of a band called Gossip (which originated only 30 miles from my hometown). Ditto is apparently well known for her outspoken support of both LGBT and feminist causes (according to the all-knowing Wikipedia), and is also an advocate of body positivity. Even if this isn't exactly my type of music, it's cool to see a bigger girl rock it out for once!

My "Awwww" Moment

This is a picture from our super-secret meeting at
Krispy Kreme, back when we were plotting - I mean
planning - Operation: Anti-Discrimination . . .

I know I talk a lot about the girls in Real Beauty Revolution (the women's rights club I started at my high school), but I dug something out of my drawer the other day that pretty much had me grinning like an idiot, and I wanted to gloa--- I mean share. 

A while back we did the time-tested activity where everybody passes a paper around and writes something (nice) about each other. I recognized my paper immediately when I found it, because it's bright, blinding yellow with a precarious grease stain that just decided to show up one day. Nonetheless, reading it over for the nth time made me remember why I love what I do - and who I am.

You see, RBR didn't take off like I wanted it to (we have a steady membership of about eight). But instead of standing up in front of a group of girls I don't know each week, I get to sit at a table with girls I've gotten to know so well in a matter of just a few months. We laugh, and joke, and talk about the "big things," and generally support each other when somebody has a problem or something on their mind. 

It's corny, yes, but because "my girls" are mostly freshman (excluding a few of my Junior friends who managed to sneak in), I've gotten to play the older sister role. And if I had even a tiny, miniscule, microscopic fraction in helping them to become more confident and to realize how smart and strong and beautiful they are . . . that would just make everything I strive for - everything I believe in - worth it, you know?

So! Back to the point, here are a few of the things that were written on my paper. I plan to keep this thing for a hundred years (or more!) just so whenever somebody tells me "Give up!" or "This stuff is a waste of time!" I can whip it out and say "Excuse me, I think these girls would believe otherwise."

P.S. Pay special attention to the last one. *smiles*

My Two Cents on "True Beauty"

You always hear people talk about "true beauty" like it's this untouchable, imaginary thing we keep locked up inside. I think this picture (taken at one of our Real Beauty Revolution meetings) proves that theory wrong.

True beauty is tangible, robust, uninhibited, and real.

Drawing Strength From Going Against the "Beauty Grain"

Man, I'm exhausted. My inner-feminist got a good workout this week (even if I didn’t).

First it was watching an incredibly stereotypical episode of Disaster Date (see Cram another feminist stereotype in there, why don't you?), then it was listening to a bitter Youtubian trying to tell me why "women have it so easy in life," and then kindly reminding him why that wasn’t necessarily true. And now, go figure, a Facebook comment has got my vigilante juices flowing.

You see, I was making my usual rounds on Facebook (scrolling down the homepage to see if anything juicy was going on) when I noticed one of my classmates talking about possibly getting her hair cut. Now don't get me wrong, her hair is absolutely gorgeous - long, shiny, and black, the kind wig-makers would kill for - but I'm a huge fan of short cuts (no pun intended). Naturally, I chimed in with a good pat on the back and “atta girl,” but it wasn’t long before a couple of boys jumped in and disagreed, saying short hair most certainly wouldn’t be cute.

Miffed, I asked: "What's wrong with short hair?"

Nothing, apparently. Except the girl in question "wouldn't look as cute" with it.

"Well, it's not your decision to make!” . . . is what I would’ve said, if I weren’t such a civil person. (Facebook is no place for a fight. Back alleys are so much better . . .)

But seriously, this isn't a stand-alone case. Whenever a girl talks about getting her hair cut on Facebook (yeah, teens have too much time on their hands), it's always girls who show support, and guys who seem to have massive coronaries. I know it's a biological fact that men are attracted to women with long hair (you know, because it signifies "youth" and "fertility," stuff 16-year-olds really care about), but it's the 21st century for cryin' out loud! If we want to get our hair cut short - or do anything that contradicts outdated standards of beauty - what's stopping us?

In fact (and yes, this is going to sound really cheesy), I'm starting to realize the power one can draw from going against the grain. The beauty grain, that is.


For starters, my hair is short. Not a big deal, right? But you're talking to a girl who only had about three trips to Super Cuts in her entire childhood, and who had waist-length hair until the 10th grade. But I've never felt more alive since adopting a short do, and I couldn't care less what type of hair boys prefer. Because short hair - that I can tease mercilessly, that hardly needs brushing, and that creates the most awesome bed-head ever - makes me feel light, free, confident, and fierce.


Something else I've taken for granted until recently is natural beauty. I’ve always seen it in others, but when it comes to myself I’ve always felt the need to hide my imperfections (especially at school) with healthy doses of foundation and mascara. I can even remember the one time I didn't wear makeup to school (because I was so gosh-darned tired), and I ended up feeling self-conscious all day. It sucked big time.


But these days, seeing as I can’t get my license for another six months and my parents both work, I’ve been stuck at home all summer. In other words: no makeup.

Have you ever really looked at yourself in the mirror? I mean really looked?


Astrid Alaud posed a similar question when she asked if we’ve ever actually “tasted” a carrot. Not just ate it, but tasted it. She suggested that “we can’t taste the beauty and energy of the earth in a Twinkie,” and similarly, I think there’s no better time to marvel at the beauty of humanity as when we’re completely "natural."


I know (now) that when I look in the mirror it doesn’t matter whether my eyelashes are long and luscious or straight and stubby, if my complexion is perfectly tanned or perfectly pink, or if my blemishes are covered or just there. It really doesn’t matter. But when I take a minute to actually study myself, feel my face in my hands, or jack it up into an uninhibited smile, I see a girl who’s funny, and dorky, and smart, and corny, and above all passionate about a lot of things. And that’s when I think I know . . . scratch that, that's when I know what magazines are missing these days. Not just me, but us. The real us.


All I’m saying is: don’t let other people tell you how to live your life. Don’t shy away from getting your hair cut (or try to grow it out!) just because you think boys will like it, and don’t wear makeup because that’s what girls are “supposed” to do. Glam yourself up as much (or as little) as you want because it makes you happy, because it makes you confident, and because it makes you want to take on the world. Look in the mirror - really look - and be proud to see what you see.


Despite what Dallas Cowboy cheerleader and/or Hollister employee recruiters would have you believe, there is no single definition of “beauty.” So let's make up our own rules, okay?

Am I the only one who's completely freaked out by child beauty pageants?

I have to ask this question: am I the only one who's completely freaked out by child beauty pageants? I mean, whenever I'm flipping through our 900 channels (887 of which are useless) and happen across the show Toddlers & Tiaras, I can't help but watch it. I just sit there with this overall dumb look on my face because I am both mesmerized and horrified by these strange, nightmare-like creatures that are some people's idea of "beauty."

I don't care what the message was in Miss Congeniality, beauty pageants are messed up. Having full grown women prance around in bikinis to prove their self-confidence is degrading enough, but watching little 5-year-old girls do the same seems borderline abusive. These are tiny, tiny girls. Babies. Yet their coaches - who am I kidding, their mothers - are forcing them to adhere to "mature" standards of beauty, like wearing short, revealing dresses, (ten pounds of) makeup, big, bouncy hair, fake tans, and even fake teeth.

Is it just me, or is the damage really obvious here? These mothers are basically telling their daughters that they are not good enough - that they won't even have a shot at winning a pageant, let alone succeed in life - if they're not tan enough, skinny enough, peppy enough, or pretty enough. Because as we all know, girls can never be good enough.

You can cut the whole "beauty pageants are good for self-esteem" crap right now, 'cause I ain't buying it. Beauty pageants are exactly that - dehumanizing contests to see which girl looks best in a swimsuit and/or frilly dress. And don't even try to justify it with "well, the girls are encouraged to be themselves during the talent competitions!" Because if these little girls were truly given license to be themselves, their moms wouldn't be in the corner screaming "smile wider, honey! Remember that smile we practiced?"

How I detest that smile.

Believe it or not, beauty pageant moms are ten times scarier than their little demo-- I mean angels. Not only do many of them yell at their daughters when they make teeny-weeny mistakes, these women usually fit the same mold. Without spelling out every detail, you can guess that most of these women weren't treated as well as they should have as children. Maybe they never felt pretty, wanted, loved. Maybe they were told they were too "this" or too "that" to enter a pageant; maybe they got picked on in school. Whatever the case, most of these moms (I'd say 99%) are living through their daughters to create the childhood, fame, and success they wanted as children.

Beauty pageants teach little girls that looks and dresses and smiles and competition and prize money are everything in life. In other words, we need to be picture perfect. From the way we walk, to the way we talk, to the way we flirtatiously smile at others - we will always be judged. If you let your guard down even a little, you can't win in life.

What a load of bull-crap!

I would never want my daughter (please note that I'm thinking 15 years down the road here) to be a part of something like that. I can't even fathom sitting back while watching my 5-year-old being picked apart in front of a panel of judges (and other whacked-out mothers). How could any parent stand to watch that? Internal beauty my ass, confidence my ass . . .

Now you're probably thinking: Danielle, what if your daughter comes to you one day and says she wants to be in a beauty pageant? Simple. I'll say: "Who wants to sit in a stinky old chair for 6 hours getting their makeup done when they could be chopping this in half?!" That's when I'll whip out a 2-by-4.

Yes, my daughter will be joining karate.

Want to see some real heartbreak? Watch this video all the way 'till the end:

Sexism and Other Garbage in Our Media

Have you ever had a love-hate relationship with something? Like chocolate. I mean, one minute you love it more than life itself (I've been known to eat a s'more in my day), but the next minute you're staring into the bathroom mirror, pinching and pulling your thighs, and wondering why you ever got mixed up with that crap in the first place. That pretty much sums up my love-hate relationship with the media, minus the pinching and pulling. One minute I'll be chuckling at a Skittles commercial, but the next minute I'll go on a rampage because some idiotic company felt the need to bash, stereotype, or otherwise degrade women to sell their products.

I didn't used to be so critical, but once I actually started paying attention to what I was watching and reading I realized how much garbage we're subjected to in a day - it's on TV, in newspapers, magazines, billboards, everywhere! We can't escape it!

I've been collecting sexist ads on the internet for a while now, and while some are only mildly sexist, others are oh-my-gosh-I-can't-believe-they-did-that-who's-skull-can-I-bash-in sexist. And there have been some common themes along the way:

1. "Oh, you're a woman? You must be [insert stereotype here]."

Translation: Women only serve two purposes. I'm sure you can guess what they are.

It just amazes me that companies can get away with printing such blatantly-sexist advertisements, and ads that promote ridiculous stereotypes about women are more common than I first realized. Women are frequently typecast as shoppers, pink-lovers, gold-diggers, scaredy-cats, sexual objects, prostitutes, nagging mothers, air-heads. . . it never ends! I don't know about you, but I am neither a shopper, pink-lover, gold-digger, scaredy-cat, sexual object, prostitute, nor nagging mother. And heaven forbid you call me an airhead. Why do advertisers think it's okay to paint women in this light?

Here are some gender-related videos:

Analysis of Gender in Media
Gender Stereotypes in Media
Gender Stereotyping of Women in the Media

2. "Are women even human? Nah, they're just objects."

Translation: Keep the bag, throw away the woman.

As discussed in the documentary Killing Us Softly 3: Advertising's Image of Women, women are constantly turned into objects, sometimes even becoming part of the product that's being sold. Some might justify this by saying women's bodies are "beautiful works of art." Well yeah, we're awesome. But we're not inanimate things that can be used like a piece of toilet paper. As the documentary explains (please watch it), when women are portrayed as less than human people can use that as an excuse to justify violence against them. After all, is it easier to mistreat something you value (i.e. like a human being), or something that is little more than a piece of meat or, in the case of this advertisement, garbage?

3. "Make that sexual objects."


Translation: Women are valued for their bodies, not their intelligence, personalities, etc.

First off, how funny (i.e. ridiculous) is it that an ad for wakeboards stuffs their product into a teeny-weeny corner, while the forefront is dominated by irrelevant, bikini-clad women? Does this tactic really work with its intended audience, which we can all assume to be men? Do they really see this as and think "ooh, women, I must buy a wakeboard"? That's pretty insulting to their intelligence, isn't it? But if I can get to my main rant, thank you, this ad is incredibly degrading. By covering up the women's faces (but leaving their bodies exposed) we get the message that they are not people to be valued for their intelligence, humor, personalities, or anything that makes them inherently likeable or unique, they're valued for their bodies and sexuality. Not only do the bags make these women appear as if they're less than human, they transform them into sexual objects. Horrifying.


4. "This is what beauty really looks like."


Translation: If you're with an ugly woman like this, who could blame you if you cheated with a gorgeous woman like this?

I absolutely deplore ads that try to impose their idea of beauty on us. The message "sometimes ya gotta cheat" is sickening enough (are they really trying to promote adultery?), but I just hate the fact that they're taking it upon themselves to judge two women purely by their looks. This woman is wrinkly, old, and therefore ugly; this woman is skinny, busty, and therefore beautiful. There's no mention of internal qualities; after all, who needs to be smart or compassionate when they've got jugs? These ads drive women crazy because they feel insurmountable pressure to look more like the "mistress" and less like the "wife." These ads might also hurt our relationships with men, because one day we're lounging around in our grungy pajamas and they're thinking "hey, why don't you look like this?"


5. "Violence? Eh, it's no big deal."


Translation: I don't even know what they were trying to go for.

This ad is frivolous, meaningless. Violence for the sake of violence. I have absolutely no clue how this would make people want to buy ties (unless they're in the mafia). Just look at the sickening expression on the man's face. "Yeah, look what I did." He looks amused, clutching the naked dead woman by the throat, blood dripping down the hood of the car. This ad pretty much renders my brain numb. I don't know how to describe it, how to accurately describe my rage, my disgust. How can they . . . Why would they . . . This is pure horror. They're glorifying violence against women to sell their crappy little ties - and if the public thinks this is okay, we're all in trouble. I beg you: if you ever see an ad as horrific as this, please, please, please make some phone calls, write some letters, call the president, do whatever you have to do to get it destroyed.