academia commentary

ask-me-anything2

Coming to an art school from a highly academic school who touts itself as the “Ivy League” of the New York State Schools (SUNY Binghamton) is… something that has affected me more than I realized, especially when you account for the massage therapy education I’ve received.  “Academic” was always so safe for me.  I am a hidden girl, always, no matter what, even when I’m screaming loudly and am the life of the party.  Noone sees me.  Noone can.  Noone ever will.  I am desperate to be seen because I don’t know who I am.  Terms like “student” and “intern” are very me and very lucky.

This just came on t.v.:

britt robertson

and rang so true with how I’m feeling at the moment: Britt Robertson, Justin Long, Martin Sheen star in a film called “Ask Me Anything.”  I’ve yet to see it, but based on the commercial and trailer I just saw, I feel like maybe I could watch it with my family and they’d understand me better.  This is why:  it is harder being a girl in today’s day and age (and not in other ways- I know I know- can’t I fucking think a “narcissistic” thought without hearing a million voices telling me my “white struggle” is wrong).  Women have always had the option to marry rich, or just be a good girl and accept a simple life loving a man.  We however have been exposed to the same kind of “narcissism-grab” that males have always been exposed to.  Despite this “mind” that can feel and think about so many things, the culture we have been exposed to is one of alienation (no true guidance), patriarchal (it’s not your fault dudes-you want to fuck us and you’re dumb)… and I have PTSD and have been living my life in defense 24/7.  So I’m super smart but I can’t remember anything I’ve learned.  Its a constant “trying to recall”, and then I am this being who thinks that there is so much more to life, and lately I’ve been thinking I have wanted simplicity ever since I first got into yoga and Buddhism, and that felt so grand to me, and I read something the other day about religious hypocrisy.  I do feel like I’ve been carrying my family my whole life as the youngest.  Everyone was out trying to be, and I just wanted to fill in the blanks, keep things peaceful, make up for what everyone else lacks… I have to be here incase people lose it because I’m the only one who knows how to “love” it feels.  “Caring about myself” was never high priority (I feel the voices yelling at me that I’m no good).  This feels extremely strange… I don’t like how things like PTSD and Fibromyalgia, and being a rape victim and… thinks I don’t like talking about all come to fruition over and over, but talking is good and I know that; but I am thankful for how things are changing.  I think that the 90s were “organically” just great.  I think everything’s gonna get figured out, and everything is highly unpredictable and because I’m hyper vigilant I’ve been trying to remember everything so I feel invincible in that I can read and write.  I can “play with the boys” holding my own, knowing that on some level they want to fuck me, fall in love with me, or use me to feel better about themselves.  Vulnerable females will always be easy prey.  We always want to make everything better and we don’t know our place, and we get blamed when something goes wrong.  What lessons have I learned I ask myself as I recall this amazing spoken word poetry from these three teen girls in LA whose commentary on public education is like… “the greatest lessons you will ever learn…”… are fucking not taught in school man.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Dear Gloria Steinem, I both resent and am grateful for it all… I have no choice, right?

What pisses me off about these images is that Gloria Steinem… 1)looks pretty, 2)is near a “typewriter”, and 3)is answering the phone.  Women always have the option of being typists or secretaries… what about being pretty?

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s