Inside the Mind of a Teenage Feminist

I made this collage for my Interpersonal Relationships class last year. After extensive testing, I'm 99% sure this is what my brain looks like.

From the Curious Depths of My Backpack #1

The Keeper of Secrets

When I found a treasure trove of old writing assignments in my backpack, I thought: "Why throw these away? Why not post them?" Thus, a new post-series was born! Some of these old assignments might be quite comical; others might be incredibly sad considering all that's happened in the past few months. But whether they're works of art or worthy of the waste bin, they represent my journey as a writer. 

And yes, I made that sound more dramatic than it actually is.

"Where I'm From"

Written September 16, 2010

I am from a refrigerator whiteboard graffitied with witticisms that weren’t there when I went to bed, left either by curious Keebler elves or a brother hunting for a midnight snack.

I am from a 72-degree home with a thermostat-happy father, the lingering effects of last night’s salmon, and the blare of an electric guitar in the background.

I am from the water drip, drip, dripping down into our lush lawn and coloring it green, the perfect backdrop to a quiet, contented, neighborly cul-de-sac.

I am from sitcom marathons, cookie-baking escapades, hilariously painful pun sessions, and Sunday morning “Mom-always-wins” bowling. From Darrin, and Dee Dee, and DeWayne, and Donna; a litany of D’s.

I am from breakfast for dinner when no one feels like cooking, and Power Naps on drizzly afternoons.

From “don’t pick your nose or your eyeballs will fall out,” “don’t make me turn you upside down and shake your socks off,” and other threats only grandmas can muster.

I am from parents who have allowed me to make my own choices: from secularism, to humanism, to Unitarianism, to feminism.

I am from the bustling metropolis of Parkland, Washington, with infinitesimal flecks of “Polish” buried deep. From homemade lasagna and salty, buttery pierogies. 

From instances we’ll never let the butt of our jokes forget: falling out of a truck at the gas station, falling into a yard waste bin, and then into Iron Creek (poor Mom).

I am from the box of pictures under my parents’ bed, saved for Christmastime, birthdays, and drizzly afternoons (after Power Naps). 

By the four-hundredth picture of my brother’s chubby, smiling baby-face I tease: “What? Did you get sick of taking pictures by the time I came around?” 

But deep down, I’m happy. 

Irrevocably happy.

I'm Back (Kind Of . . . )

Hey everybody! It's been a while since my last post, so I thought I owed you all an explanation. I've been back at school for about a month now, and boy, it doesn't get any easier, does it? My routine has basically been waking up 6:00, going to school, getting home at around 5:30, taking a nap, doing homework until the wee hours of the morning, crashing, and then starting the cycle all over again. In short, I haven't had much time to relax, let alone write.

Though I don't think I'll be cranking out epics anytime soon, I thought up a pretty ingenious plan. To make school a little more bearable, I've been bringing my passions (i.e. read the rest of this blog) into the classroom. A week or two ago we had to write an article as if we were a "muckraker" back in the late 1800's exposing a dire issue; I wrote about women's rights. In my Interpersonal Relationships class we had to do a presentation on "someone we admire"; I did mine on Gloria Steinem. Even today we were assigned to write a satirical piece on a current societal issue; my topic is abortion. I figure: when given a choice, I'll relate my schoolwork to the issues that I actually care about, and then I can just post 'em up on here! Genius, pure genius . . .

On an unrelated note, I'm extremely excited for Real Beauty Revolution this year. For those of you who don't know, I started at club called Real Beauty Revolution at my high school, and it's for anyone who's interested in gender equality, body image, media stereotypes, relationships, self-esteem . . . you know, the juicy stuff. Though I've been having a heckuva time getting the word out, I think the club has had a good start. We only had about ten people at our first meeting (half of which were my friends, so they don't really count!), but it was really intense. We did some of the activities from If You Really Knew Me and saw that, wow, we're all dealing with crap in our lives. We talked about how people at school never stop to get to know the real us - that we're always stuck in a reputation, an image - but we're so much more than that. The first meeting saw a lot of tears, but I think that's so important in getting people to realize RBR is a safe place to talk, and vent, and most importantly, encourage one another.

We had our second meeting yesterday and I am ecstatic to report that we had almost twenty people attend! Our discussion topic for the day was "true beauty," so we looked at ridiculous ads that try to tell us how we "should" look. Bigger breasts. Plastic surgery. Virtually no fat cells. It's exhausting to be a women sometimes when we're tirelessly bombarded with these messages, but we don't have to let them control us. Next, we wrote our fears and insecurities on balloons and stomped on 'em . . . it was really fun and loud. I only hoped the administrators didn't come running into the breezeway thinking shots were being fired *smiles*

Anyway, that's my life right now. School, homework, Real Beauty Revolution. I'll try to write some original pieces in the near future when I actually get some free time, but for right now you'll have to settle for recycled History and English assignments!