12th Blog Part 2: "Thank You For an Amazing Class"

12th Blog Assignment

Part II

Dear Dr. Heather Peerboom,

I have learned so much in Women’s Studies 301. Maybe no one noticed but I know I never spoke up during class, I wish I had, but I’m very shy and pretty socially awkward. I’m genuinely working on it though. I write, that’s how I best express myself. Despite my reserved behavior in class, taking Women’s Studies 301, especially from Dr. Heather Peerboom, was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I’m not kissing up, I genuinely feel that Dr. Peerboom’s WS 301 class has changed my life for the better. 

I’ve always considered myself a feminist. Even when I didn’t quite understand the issues, I always knew that I was someone who stood up against injustice. It doesn’t matter if you’re white or black, it’s obvious that it’s wrong to treat people badly because of race. It’s the same with women’s rights, it doesn’t matter if you’re male or female or whatever you consider yourself, it’s obvious that it’s wrong to treat people badly because of gender and/or sex. I’ve always known that, and I’ve always known that I was the type of person who would fight for justice for everyone. So feminist is what I’ve always known I was. 

What Dr. Peerboom’s WS 301 class taught me was to think deeper than what’s on the surface of things, to dig deep, see past the bullshit, to test boundaries, to ignore social pressures. Her class taught me to never stop asking why, what, how, who, etc. Her class taught me to not be suspicious of myself for my feelings and such but to be suspicious of “social graces and manners.” To be suspicious of what is being shown to me as “normal” and “weird.” To go with my gut when I know something is not right instead of second guessing myself.

The readings and class discussions in Women’s Studies 301 have taught me a lifetime of things I might have never known. I’ve always known there were “issues” but this class has shown me the issues, this class has put me face to face with the ugly truth of the issues women and men face today. This class, it’s readings, and class discussions have shown me that it’s not just women’s issues, it’s everyones issues and that even though these issues might not be the ones on the news (like they should be) but that does not mean that they are not there. There are many dark shadows in the women’s movement today and we must work to shed light where there is darkness because if there is no awareness, then there is no recognition or problem solving, and thus there is no solution. 

Like I said, I’ve been a human rights activist, a feminist, since before I can remember. What Dr. Heather Peerboom’s Women’s Studies 301 class has given me is a clear purpose in life that I was afraid to acknowledge before. I now know that the human’s rights movement, more specifically the feminist movement, is where I belong. My life isn’t complete without feminism, it’s not complete if I don’t fight the good fight for justice and equality. I’ve realized my purpose in life is to fight in the feminist movement. My purpose in life is to shine light where there is darkness; to fight for justice and equality for everyone; women, men, girls, and boys. 

The only thing I can think to say now is: Thank you, Dr. Peerboom, thank you for teaching my Women’s Studies 301 class.  

From Lacey McKenna Carr,

aspiring to be the next Alice Paul, Lucy Burns, and Heather Peerboom

12th Blog Part 1: "From Yours to Mine"

12th Blog Assignment

Part I

http://alexlucasroyals13.blogspot.com/

My response to Alex Royal’s blog, “Assignment 2”:

I like your take on this assignment. I'm glad to hear your ideas about and awareness of feminism has been enlightened and changed. The problem is that people think the fight is over, that we did it, we won the right of equality. The truth is that the women's movement has won many battles for their cause but the war is far from over. The problem now is that the battles are less organized, the enemy is harder to pin point. The feminist waves of the past were driven by one huge issue that the people fighting for gender equality could all come together and fight for. Now, it's not so simple. The solution is making people aware of the problems equality is facing today and giving them ways to help in the cause. 

http://anthonyhenderson23.blogspot.com/

My response to Anthony Henderson’s blog, “Should Love be Painful??”:

This is an excellent post and I enjoy reading it. I too have never been a victim of physical violence/abuse but one of my dear friends did. She stayed with him even though he beat her, lying to her friends and family, until he almost killed her the night of our senior prom. No one even knew was abusing her until that night. The only reason she survived is because she accidentally pressed on her cellphone while he was beating her and it called her parents who could hear their daughter begging for her life and the voice of her then boyfriend yelling at her and beating her. They called the cops and sped to his house which was right next to mine. They got there and saved her within minutes of the call. If the cellphone hadn't miraculously called her parents she probably would have died that night. Everyone was supportive of her after that but we were all confused as to why she would stay with someone like him until literally the law had to separate them. She was a beautiful girl, made good grades, etc. etc. It's just that even when girls in those situations deserve more they have such low self-esteem or they have been beaten into submission that they think they can't do better or deserve what's being done to them. It's so sad. Family members and friends can help by paying close attention to the signs and not hesitating to ask.   

Pop Culture

Blog 11

No one can go through life today without being affected by pop culture. It’s a wickedly strong social force that is impossible to ignore. Pop culture can affect people in different ways, both positively and negatively, depending on the person. 

Growing up my mom read the best books to me. She read everything from The Velveteen Rabbit, The English Roses by Madonna, to every single Dr. Seuss book she could get, and many more. As a child I grew up with Barney the purple dinosaur, Garfield the orange and lazy cat, the clean comedic characters of The Muppets, all the 101 Dalmatians, Simba and Pumba from the Lion King, every Disney princess and prince, and many classics. As for music, my parents contributed to 100% of my musical experience as a child. My musical diet consisted of a healthy serving of classic jazz and blues, a hefty amount of rock’n’roll, and a little bit of country every now and then. I didn’t care what anyone thought of me and I thought I was pretty much awesome. 

Then when I started school in the mid-90’s my exposure changed. While I still secretly slept with my stuffed animals, read Dr. Seuss often, and adored everything Disney, my tastes elsewhere drastically changed. My friends and I were all about some Britney Spears, boy bands, plaid, scrunchies, Spice Girls, bubble gum, Mary-Kate and Ashley movies, shows like Hey Arnold and All That, and crimping our hair. I liked me, my friends liked me, and of course Justin Timberlake thought I was mighty fine. Pop culture had little to do with how I felt about myself or gender other than that I knew that the Back Streets Boys were a heck of a lot cuter than any boy I had class with. 

I changed a lot between those days and middle-school. I was a full blown “nonconformist” tomboy by then. I had no interest in girly things, fashion magazines, and all that. I liked alternative music and watched little TV. I had very low self-esteem and therefore chose rather to just not think about how much prettier the other girls were and just hid in my over-sized T-shirts. However, after meeting my best friend of that time, who was the complete opposite of me, things started to change. Social media, TV, music, movies, pop culture was my life. I loved to get all dressed up EVERY SINGLE day and always had my headphones on, blasting the latest underground music. I got my first cell phone around then and became the “texting queen,” as my parents called me. 

Pop culture certainly made me feel like a lesser person at different times of my life. Sometimes it made me feel like I wasn’t pretty enough, my boobs weren’t big enough, my skin wasn’t clear enough, my shirt wasn’t low enough, my skirt wasn’t short enough, my outfit wasn’t cool enough, the music I liked wasn’t rad enough, I didn’t know enough, and the list goes on and on. However, pop culture has also benefited me by helping me come out of my dark shell and becoming the happier, girlier, more involved person that I am. It’s all about finding a balance between who you are, your insecurities, and pop culture. 

The First Time I had Sex

8th Blog Assignment

My first sexual experience was with a girl when I was very young. I was nervous but excited and it was a very fun and pleasurable experience. However, my first (and quite frankly most of them) sexual experience with a male was quite the opposite.

The first time I had sex with a male I was 15 and a freshman in high school (First strike, I was way too young to be having intercourse). I actually remember the date, May 28th 2008. I had sex with my then boyfriend, Ryan*. Ryan was 18 and a senior at our high school (Second strike, can you say pedo?). We had been dating for six months. He had been badgering since month two to have sex and that if I truly loved him I would have sex with him (Third strike, that obviously wasn’t love and if I was too stupid to see that then I was definitely too stupid to be having sex in the first place). I thought he was a virgin as well but little did I know that somewhere between two months and six he had decided enough was enough and that if I was going to drag my feet he would just sleep with, and lose his virginity to, my backstabbing friend, Sarah*. Of course I didn’t find that piece of information out until after I lost my virginity to the bastard. 

The night came when his parents went to sleep early and he had finally badgered me enough about it that I decided I might as well just give him what he wanted. Our “sex” consisted of light kissing, no foreplay, and 20 minutes of me sitting with my knees to my chest saying “I don’t want to do this” and him trying to convince me, then him making me be on top even though I didn’t want to be, and ending in no pleasure and certainly no orgasm for me. And to top it all off the cheating bastard also had the tiniest penis I’ve seen as of yet. Serves him right.

Obviously, my first male/female sexual experience sucked and it would take a long time for me to realize that I can and deserve to have pleasurable sex for me.

* Names have been changed 

Second-Shifting

10th Blog Assignment

Second-shifting oppresses women. It causes women to constantly be busy, never having time for themselves. It keeps women in traditional gender roles while adding on even more stress from their career. It allows men to keep doing less than women do and to believe that women can and should handle any and everything that is asked of them. This keeps women tired, stressed, compliant, and probably depressed and unfulfilled. 

Women have always been taught to be compliant, nurturing, subservient, and perfect. Women have always been expected to be the perfect 24/7 house cleaner, babysitter, personal chef, chauffeur, accountant, personal shopper, organizer, event planner, subservient sex toy for their husband, and so much more, and she is expected to make it all look easy and be perfectly beautiful and manicured and serene at all times. Now women are not only expected to do ALL OF THAT, but also to be successful career women. This behavior is reinforced by women who look down upon “stay-at-home-moms,”, men who refuse to take on extra responsibilities along side their wives, and women who let their husbands get away with that. 

Women are working harder than ever and men are working exactly the same as they always have and women are letting them do it!! Men’s disrespect for women and women’s low self-worth have not changed with the waves of feminism, and in some ways they have only grown worse. Women are expected by men and other women, media, etc. to do more and more and more than our mothers, our mother’s mothers, and so on. It is a vicious cycle that women can’t seem pull themselves out of. Women do more, men do less, and media promotes it. . .will it ever end?

Pro-Choice

9th Blog Assignment

I consider myself to be pro-choice, however, I once considered myself pro-life. That was before I was educated about what being pro-choice and pro-life really meant. I am pro-choice because abortions, however sad they may be, is a necessity. I don’t believe that the American government should enforce laws based on religion, namely the Christian religion. Considering a just fertilized egg as a human being can only be justified by the belief that we have souls. We don’t all believe that way and we shouldn’t be forced by law to follow others religious beliefs. What a woman and her doctor do should be the legal concern of no one but her and her licensed physician. The problem is that there should be some sort of boundaries. Partial birth abortion is one of the most disgusting, vial, and inhuman things I’ve ever heard of. I believe that after the first twelve weeks, roughly the first trimester, abortions for any other reason than to save the mothers life is wrong. To keep things like partial birth abortions from happening unless the mothers life is at risk we need to start educating young people about safe sex, how to avoid becoming pregnant or contracting an STD whenever they do decide to become sexually active. Humans will have sex when they want to regardless of how they were raised, so regardless of how people believe we all need to be educated and open about sex and sex education.  

If pro-lifers get their way then birth contraceptives will most likely become even harder to get or be outlawed all together. The combination of our societies lack of sex education plus the outlawing of birth contraceptives would bring about a vastly substantial increase in unwanted pregnancies. Abortions would no doubt be illegal if pro-lifers get their way so a substantial increase in unwanted pregnancies mixed with a lack of sex and abortion education plus safe abortions being illegal. . .would lead to a colossal increase in abused children, abandoned children, families who need financial help from the government, children in our horrid foster homes, and botched abortions that will lead to sickness and death in woman.

I am pro-choice because my mother didn’t talk to me about sex, if my boyfriend hadn’t of suggested birth control, who knows, I could have ended up pregnant like my best friend. I am pro-choice because birth control cleared up my acne, reduced my menstrual symptoms, and kept me from getting pregnant before I was ready. I am pro-choice because my mother wouldn’t have had me or my little sister without medical help. Because if my precious little sister was raped and impregnated then I’ll be damned if anyone try to keep her from aborting her rapists seed. I am pro-choice because abortion isn’t so cut and dry as to outlaw it completely as some sort of solution. Humans deserve rights to freedom of choice and that means that women deserve the right to choose what they will and won’t do with their bodies. 

Comments and Praise

Blog 7

Response to Jonnett Johnson’s blog “Macho Man?”

http://jowomenstud.blogspot.com/

I’ve also had someone very dear to me experience violence and rape from a boyfriend. She is one of my very best friends from high school. She had been seeing her boyfriend for almost a year. Little did me or our friends know that he had been abusing her. It started small, harassing phone calls, ridiculous jealousy, constant fighting. Then it started to get worse, he began to hit her during their arguments. During Spring Break our senior year of high school my friend and her best friend went to the beach with my friends boyfriend.  There he ended up beating her. She needed stitches in the head. She told all of us she had tripped. Her best friend had seen the whole thing and just kept her mouth shut. Then the night of our senior prom he almost beat her to death, raped her, paraded her around his house naked taunting and harassing her, held a knife to her throat in front of her parents and the police when they tried to save her. By some miracle my friend didn’t die that night. Sadly, it really seemed like justice was never achieved for my friend though. We got her boyfriend evicted and he spent a year in jail but that was it. . .I so wish that women would remove themselves from bad relationships but sadly some women don’t respect themselves enough or don’t know that they deserve better. It’s scary. I wish that those things had never happened to my friend or yours. 

Response to Jillian Gordon’s blog “Homosexuality in the church”

http://jillology.blogspot.com/

I love this blog entry. I grew up in a very open-minded church and family. I’ve never had any doubts that homosexuality was just as normal and “ok” as heterosexuality. Once I got into my small Mississippi high school, that’s when I found out that my view on homosexuality was not so common. I won’t lie, I was pretty angry about the judgement people passed about homosexuals. It seemed so wrong to me that people thought they could judge someone to the point of hatred and still consider themselves “good Christians.” It blew my mind that people who had pre-marital sex, regularly participated in vulgar speech and acts, basically people breaking “Christian codes,” but still thought that homosexuality was such a sin. Sinners judging sinners pretty much. It’s crazy. “Let he who has not sinned through the first stone.” John 8:7. It’s honestly one of my very favorite verses from the bible. 

6th Blog: "My Sexual Identity"

        Sexual identity is a touchy subject. Sex, love, peer pressure, family, friends, religion, values, morals, feelings, pressures to “fit in” and to be “normal”, mushy-gushy embarrassing stuff, hormones, the list of things that makes sexual identity so touchy goes on and on for miles probably. It’s not even easy to be straight, let alone gay or bisexual or transgendered/sexual. Life isn’t easy for anyone, we’re all doing the best we can with what we have, but then you add sexuality into the mix and things go from stressful to haywire. 

My sexual identity was never something I thought about when I was younger. Boys were icky to think about in that way. I would much rather have just been friends with them. I had my first memorable glimpse into my sexual identity when I was in preschool, although I was unaware of it at the time. Some boys and girls attending my preschool started a “Kissing Club” that they would secretly partake in during our two recesses everyday. My best friend and I were invited to join. No one actually did any real kissing, we were all much too embarrassed and innocent for that sort of thing. My best friend and I were excited to be invited so we went with them one day at recess. The girls all giggled the whole time, including my best friend, all of them except me. Once I was sitting and realized what a “Kissing Club” entailed I was horrified and wanted nothing more to leave and never go back. That wasn’t a problem though because the next day the teachers discovered it and ended the “Kissing Club”.

By kindergarden I had my first “official” boyfriend, of whom I never actually spoke to. I spent all my time in kindergarden and 1st grade with my two first real best friends, Paige* and Karen*. Especially Paige. Paige and I spent spent all of our time together, we were glued at the hip. She had an older sister and a younger brother and I had only a very young little sister. So Paige knew all about “big girl stuff” and she shared all of her missing-puzzle-pieces information with me. She described periods as a horrible disease only curable through painful surgery. She described lots of things to me that we were too young to understand. One in particular was sex. Paige told me all about sex and that her sister did it with her boyfriend but since we only had each other we would have to just make do. Paige and I never did anything but “hookup,” which entailed roughly pressing our mouths together and moving our faces around while moving our bodies around franticly.

Paige would always refer to me as the man in the “relationship.” I realized after a time that it hurt my feelings that I couldn’t just be me in the “relationship.” I wasn’t good enough to just be me, I had to pretend to be a boy, the missing part of the whole equation in her mind.

Paige and I continued to play “relationship” until one awful day my mother walked in to check on us. We were supposed to be napping but we were kissing. My mother, looking down at two 1st grade girls making out, did the only thing she could think of to do. She put me in one bed and Paige in another and then never said another word about it. I was mortified but followed in suite and never talked about it again. Paige and I grew apart. 

All during my life I have attended an Episcopalian church that is very open-minded about homosexuality. In fact, we currently have three gay couples and two lesbians couples, one with an older son and the other with four small boys, who actively attend our church, and our curate is homosexual as well.

On top of coming from an open-minded church, I was raised by and surrounded by very opened-minded people. My mother and her friends especially don’t have a single centimeter of homophobia in them. Both my mother and father raised my sister and I to be opened-minded, to accept all people, and to fight for what’s right like our lives depend on it. 

Even with all of that in my background I still hid my female relationships from my family. I didn’t know why exactly, all I knew was that it was smarter to just keep it a secret. Through almost all of my life I have had a boyfriend and portrayed myself as heterosexual but usually, secretly had some kind of romantic relationship with a girl. It wasn’t until 9th grade that I began to dress the way I felt. . .different. 

I dressed in all black everyday to everything I attended, wore dark makeup, and acted out in rebellion to authority. I even started drinking and smoking marijuana sometimes. That wasn’t who I was but I had been locked inside myself for so long it was like an explosion of rebellion to everyone I had ever changed myself for. My family. My peers. Everyone really. In high school I also decided I was done being in the closet. If I wanted to date a girl I was going to do it and I was going to do it in the loudest and most obnoxious way so that everyone knew, even my family, that “I am Lacey Carr. I am dark and different. I will rebel against your authority. And dammit I’m a lesbian!”

That wasn’t healthy. My grades were terrible and I only made friends with people who brought me down. I was a social outcast in high school and my parents thought I was the Devil reincarnate. Regardless of being gay, bi, or straight I was destroying my life and not being myself. 

It took me all through high school to realize I couldn’t pretend anymore, wether I was pretending to be the perfect sweetheart or pretending to be a rebellious devil child. I’m finding who I am, regardless of sexual orientation, somewhere in the middle of the two very different people I disguised as. Since high school I decided to just figure out who I am, figure out me, before I start trying to figure out if I am heterosexual, bisexual, or homosexual. It may take awhile but that’s ok with me. I’ve always kind of thought that you can’t love anyone for exactly who they are until you can love yourself for exactly who you are. 

*Names have been changed

Blog 4

It was the day of my senior prom in 2011. My prom party consisted of myself, my two best girl friends, Margaret and Savannah, our mutual friends Amanda and QuionJay, and our dates. We all met at my house to take pictures and to eat the dinner that my parents prepared for us. 

When Amanda showed up she was dateless. She told Savannah and I that her mother had never liked her boyfriend, Patrick, and had forbidden him from going to prom with us. She made it seem as though her mother was just a mean control freak and that there was no real reason why she had forbidden Patrick from coming with us. Patrick was my next door neighbor at the time so after prom Amanda planned on staying the night at his house instead of mine. Savannah and I felt terrible for Amanda and promised we would cover for her if her mom got in the way. 

Prom and Breakfast was wonderful and we all had a great time but Amanda. Her mom followed our limo around all night to make sure Patrick didn’t show up at prom, which he didn’t. Amanda also proceeded to be the only of out of our whole prom group that drank and got drunk. Savannah and I kept our promise. Every time Amanda’s mom called us asking questions we covered for her. When we arrived back at my house later that night Amanda drove to Patrick’s and Savannah and I went to sleep.

It seemed like only a minute before I was woken up by Savannah. We noticed the police lights coming from Patrick’s house. We didn’t know what to do. Her mom had called us several times so we called her back and said told us Amanda would call us later.

The next morning we should out what had happened. Patrick had already beat Amanda several times before that night, sending her to the hospital twice. She continued to go back to him until her mom got suspicious and went through Amanda’s phone. She found out everything and forbid Amanda from seeing him. But Amanda continued to secretly see him and that night he went further than ever. He raped Amanda when she wouldn’t have sex with him. He told her he had to get her pregnant so she could never leave him. He beat her repeatedly, dragged her around naked by her hair, chased her around with a knife as she called her mother to say good bye, and held a gun to her head in front of Amanda’s mother and father when they arrived after the horrible phone call. 

It took months but we finally got him kicked out of his house. They took him to court but he was only put in prison for one year. No one really believed Amanda but us. People harassed her at school, including her “best friends.” People even threatened her. It took a long time before Amanda finally went and got help from a therapist but she did. 

People are so “ok” with violence against women that even her best friend’s turned against her and defended Patrick. They immediately believed she was lying. It was that saddest thing I even witnessed a friend go through.  

My First Glimpse at Feminism

My mother has always identified as a feminist. Growing up she always talked to me about feminist issues, what it means to be a woman, and the prejudices I might encounter as a woman. I’ve always thought of myself as a feminist but I’ve been through many different stages of feminism and womanhood throughout the years for various reasons. However, through all my experiences and stages I have continued to grow in my passion for equality for not just women but all people.

The first time I ever became aware of the fight for equality I was 12 and in the sixth grade. My best friend, Lucille, and I were on our way to dance lessons with my mother. I really didn’t feel like going to dance that day because Lucille and I wanted to go to the skating rink with our friends. I had just started my period and decided to use my menstrual cramping and other period related symptoms as an excuse to get out of dance. I had never seen my mother so appalled before. She said that I should never use my period as a way to limit my ability to counting life as normal because that was an excuse politicians used to try and keep women out of politics. She counted to explain to me how for generations men tried to keep women in the home and limit their every right and one reason they often used was that women have periods and the symptoms resulting for menstrual cycles. 

I was stunned. I felt embarrassed and ashamed and angrier than I had ever felt in my entire life up to that point. I remember steaming about it all through dance that night. I couldn’t believe that a group of human beings would or could put another group of humans down for virtually no real reason and that I was in that group of people being put down. That day started my journey of fighting for women’s rights and equal treatment of all humans. 

1st Blog Assignment

My mother is everything to me. She is my caregiver, my friend, my consultant, my advisor, my number one fan, and one of my greatest inspirations. My mother was born in April of 1956 in Petal, Mississippi. Her mother was only 16 and was forced to drop out of high school in order to become a stay at home mom. Her father was a cowboy, 19, a freshman at the University of Southern Mississippi, working odd jobs between school, working the farm, and rodeos. He didn't have much time to be a father at that time and eventually developed into a raging alcoholic. My grandmother was bitter. She was cruel to my mother and her younger sister. My mother grew up in a chaotic and abusive home but there were flecks of light that kept her going; my grandmother's cooking lessons, my grandfather's elaborate story telling, my mother's huge and loving extended family, friendship, a lot of traveling, a lot of exposure to life and politics and art and music in all their different forms, etc. Most important of all, though, was that her parents, as crazy as they could be, didn't want her to ever end up like them and so they provided her with excellent education and constantly pushed her to keep achieving more. My mother very successfully graduated high school, grad school, law school, and eventually went back to USM and got her degree in psychology and her license to council. The whole time she worked for her education she maintained jobs to support herself, offices in student government, good relationships with friends and boyfriends, a love for art, music, literature, food, and the list goes on and on. My mother never settled and never sold herself short. She worked hard to make sure she didn't end up a pregnant teen stuck in Petal, Mississippi, like her mother and some of her friends did. She made sure she had a successful and fulfilling life that she could be proud of. However, of all her great achievements, she has always told me that her greatest one was and still is teaching all that she knows to her two daughters. My mother was determined that I would have an open mind and a bright and shining future. She taught me about art, food, culture, belief, love, logic, and so much more. She taught me about my rights as a woman and as a human being. My mother taught me to be strong and delicate, compassionate, optimistic, logical, and to never stop dreaming, believing in faeries, or reaching for the stars.