The Undercover Introvert

International Women’s Day 2018 – The Future is Female AF

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On International Women’s Day, we celebrate women for their many achievements in every facet of their lives–politically, socially, and economically. This year, the official theme for the event is: Press for Progress.

So, what does that mean? Press for progress?

To me, it means rising up and taking action. It means seeing something wrong in the world and deciding that you can be the one to change things. Really, it perfectly describes what I’ve seen going on around me since November 2016. Women standing up and speaking out, many for the first time in their lives.

Prior to the 2016 election, all I did was vote. I didn’t care for politics and had no interest in volunteering for campaigns or even debating the issues. My first presidential election was the one between George W. Bush and Al Gore. I recall being excited to finally get the chance to shape the future of the country with my vote. My parents are lifelong voters, and when I was growing up, we watched the news together every night and discussed what was going on in the country. I understood that taking part in the election process was my civic duty and that it was important, so, naturally, I couldn’t wait to get to the polls for the first time.

As we all know, that election was a mess (great job, Florida), and I also recall how disenchanted and disheartened I was by the eventual results. I dropped my ballot for the candidate who won the popular vote, but somehow he didn’t become president. The Supreme Court even intervened. It seemed wrong to me, that so many voters were being ignored. But I was 20 years old and that process, though aggravating, wasn’t enough to get me active. I settled back into the relative comforts of complacency, making a little bit of noise whenever George W. Bush did something I didn’t agree with, which was often, and voting religiously every two years.

And then 2016 happened, and my life completely changed.

At first, I had absolutely no idea what to do. I was angry and scared. I felt isolated and powerless, and I wasn’t sure where to turn. But I made a solemn promise to get active, no matter what it took. I joined several groups online first, and then I joined every other group I could find that seemed to be resisting the ugly turn our country had inexplicably taken. Now that I was actually paying attention, things began to happen very quickly, and it became difficult to prioritize and track the many issues that urgently needed my attention. There was so much to be done and I couldn’t believe I’d sat for so long not tackling any of this essential work. Trump was a nightmare, but what about our congressmen and senators who were busily ignoring the will of the people? They hadn’t all just sprung into office in 2016. This disconnection of government officials from their constituents had started many years before, while my head was in the clouds.

I had never canvassed door to door, or phone banked, or organized in my community in any way, but all of a sudden I found myself leading groups of people who were just as angry and frustrated as I was and wanted to put their energy to good use. Seemingly overnight, I was visiting the offices of my elected officials across the state. I was attending protests, planning events, and speaking to large crowds. And everywhere I looked, I saw dozens of other women stepping out of their comfort zones and working for change. The resistance was overwhelmingly and refreshingly female.

That’s not to say there’s no male involvement–there absolutely is–but this movement is filled to bursting with women who joined because they were pissed off and then ended up staying because they are committed to making this country a better place.

What’s happening right now is bigger than my little piece of the Space Coast or even the entire Sunshine State. This change is sweeping the country, upending the way things have always been done to make way for fresh faces and even fresher initiatives. And it all started when 4 million of us took to the streets and marched on January 21st, 2017.

The furious momentum that started with the Women’s March has built into a self-sustaining movement, and it’s largely estrogen powered. Women went from being voters to uncertain activists to forces of nature…and now many of us are running for office, which is a beautiful thing. The most effective way to create lasting change is by becoming part of the political process. If our elected representatives refuse to listen to us, we’ll replace them with someone who will.

Right now, women hold fewer than 20% of the seats in Congress. In state legislatures, that number is 25%. And we only hold 6 out of the country’s 50 governorships. This lack of representation is appalling considering that women make up more than half of the population. It’s no wonder that our issues often simmer on the back burner—access to reproductive healthcare, equal pay for equal work, paid family leave, essential services for children and families, the struggling public education system, just to name a few. The things that matter to us aren’t prioritized by our legislatures, and they are often attacked by out of touch politicians who have made a habit of not listening to us.

But the last year and a half has dramatically changed the playing field. Most of us have our reps’ contact information on speed dial. We’ve all heard the sigh from a member of staff as they recognize us over the phone, or have seen the resigned look on a staffer’s face as, yet again, we show up at their boss’s office. But those of us who have been making these calls and visits know that holding our elected officials accountable isn’t enough. In order to spark the lasting change we desire, we have to take seats away from representatives who are actively ignoring us.

But Pressing for Progress means more than just changing the political landscape. It means attacking the status quo on all fronts. The fight for gender equality means complete culture change. Movements like #metoo and #timesup are empowering women to challenge longstanding practices, from Hollywood to small town America. It was chilling to see how many friends and family had their own stories of sexual assault and harassment, but, at the same time, it was incredible to see women speaking about their experiences without shame, and watching so many men being held accountable for their actions for the first time.

Women are powerful, and we’re done sitting on the sidelines and keeping silent. 2016 initiated a complete transformation, the results of which have reverberated through the last year and a half. For so many of us, it felt like the country we knew was going up in flames, but, like the resilient phoenixes we are, we rose from those smoldering ashes and went to work.

Going back to the way things were isn’t an option. Whether it’s creating spaces for young women to achieve and thrive or supporting candidates as they run for political office, women are stepping to the forefront, leading by example, and leaving their mark on their communities. I’m proud to know so many inspiring and amazing women, some I’ve met over the last sixteen months and others I’ve known for much longer. Each one of them is Pressing for Progress in her own way—through activism, or vocal advocacy for marginalized groups, or by running for office and winning.

Though there is much critical work to be done, we have so much to celebrate too. We must keep Pressing for Progress every day until women and girls have access to the same freedoms and opportunities as the men and boys around them. As Michelle Obama said, “No country can ever truly flourish if it stifles the potential of its women and deprives itself of the contributions of half its citizens.”

To those of you doing great work, I congratulate you and challenge you to continue. I promise to do the same. Rolling up our sleeves and getting out there is the only way to create the change we want to see in the world. Keep fighting, until all of us have the equality we deserve. This movement is female, and so is the future.

**This is adapted from a speech I gave at a local IWD event

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Sexism 101: #notallmen

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It’s a pretty normal morning. I’m online, cruising through my social media feeds, just getting my feet wet before I start working for the day. I click open an article with a headline announcing that yet another man has been removed from his high profile job due to multiple allegations of sexual harassment. I roll my eyes as I read through the story, muttering expletives about creepy, entitled men and the damage they cause. Before I move on, I leave a comment under the news outlet’s post that contained the article.

Men need to do better. This shit is getting ridiculous.

My appetite for news and friends’ status updates satisfied for the moment, I dive into my freelance work. Later, when I come up for air, I see that someone responded to my comment on the article. It’s a man, of course, and his reply is so cliched, I actually chuckle under my breath as I read it.

I think what you meant to say is that some men need to to better.

Spoiler alert: I meant what I said the first time.

And, anyway, there are certainly many instances where its imperative that we speak with measured precision, but Twitter ain’t one of them.

Now, I could respond with my usual snark (and I have, falling down a deep, dark rabbit hole that burns through precious minutes of my life that I will never get back, though I’m often laughing hard enough to send tears streaming down my face at how upset my little old vagina-fueled opinions are making this random male stranger), but my newly drafted 2018 protocol instructs me to immediately delete comments and/or block accounts, because who needs that kind of negativity in their lives?

If y’all have Twitter accounts older than a few years, you’ll remember the first time a movement similar to #metoo swept through the online platform. It was called #yesallwomen, and it felt pretty powerful to read through the stories of women who had faced sexual harassment and abuse and to have an opportunity to share my own tales. The point of the hashtag was to illustrate that all women had these kinds stories, and though it didn’t cause quite the widespread cultural upheaval that we’re seeing today, it did give a name to a new kind of argument: #notallmen.

What does this often used, but rarely delineated tactic mean, you ask? Honestly, this is classic re-centering, pure and simple.

Here’s how it works:

Instead of discussing my actual concern–the culture of men using their physical strength and professional or social influence to harass, assault, brutalize, and rape women–the dude decided to take issue with a matter of semantics in a blatant attempt to turn the focus away from a worthwhile conversation, and onto a much less important matter. We then start arguing back and forth over my choice of words instead of talking about the issue at hand. Well, not really, since I now block with unadulterated glee, my maniacal laughter waking my dogs from their mid-morning naps. Come at me, faceless, fragile bros of social media! See how many fucks I don’t give!

Spoiler alert: it’s a great deal.

What’s endlessly interesting to me is how many men feel the need to interject in this way the instant a woman utters the shocking statement that men have a lot of work to do to reverse the damage toxic masculinity has wrought on our culture. And, honestly, this tendency perfectly proves my point that men–including the one above who just attempted to school a female he’s never met before–need to do better.

Re-centering an argument is a way to silence an opinion you don’t want to hear. That’s the motivation behind a #notallmen argument that insists we focus on the shiny object produced out thin air instead of talking about rape culture, rampant sexism, and how we can make this country a safer, healthier place for women and girls.

In other words, fellas, if your response to a legitimate concern is to whip out your trusty #notallmen retort, you need to reassess…unless of course you also take issue with the flagrant overuse of other generalizations. If I said, for example, dogs don’t like cats or Americans like watching baseball, would you find a way to condescendingly respond with not all dogs or not all Americans? I’m guessing probably not.

We tend to speak in generalizations, and we rarely find a reason to slow our interlocutor’s roll, unless we don’t agree with her. And when the discussion centers around sexism, you can expect to be called out for daring to besmirch the collective good name of men, the poor darlings. But knowledge is power, and now that we see #notallmen for what it is–a way to silence speech men don’t value or want to hear–we can keep on keeping on with our bad selves.

And, seriously, use the hell out of those delete and block functions, ladies. You will not believe the absolute joy it brings…

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Sexism 101: Mansplaining

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Now that we’re venturing into brave new worlds where folks are finally acknowledging the existence of things like rape culture, widespread sexism, and systemic racism, I find it useful to nail down precisely what is meant by certain terms that are thrown around rather often nowadays. This is especially important considering that those holding opposing views will repeatedly try to pervert the meaning of these terms in order to diminish the point being made by a member of a marginalized group who has recently called them on their shit.

We’ve all heard the term mansplaining before. But what exactly does it mean? Many men are quick to argue that it appears to refer to any situation in which a man expresses an opinion to a female interlocutor, no matter the context. That’s not it. At all. And, honestly, fellas, y’all know that. But by pretending you just can’t say anything to a woman without getting bitched out is a BIG part of the problem. So, let’s dispel the rumors, shall we?

Mansplaining occurs when a man explains something to a woman in a condescending manner.

Easy, right?!

Sometimes it involves explaining a subject in which a woman has already shown mastery or, at the very least, a workable understanding. Other times it involves classic re-centering. A woman makes a statement about her own life experience and a man appears out of nowhere to let her know:

1. What really happened in her own life (since she wasn’t smart enough to understand when it was happening).

2. How wrong she is and why.

In every case, the explanation is unsolicited, unnecessary, and disrespectful.

Would an example help? I think so. It certainly couldn’t hurt. And this shit just happened the other day.

I recently attended a board meeting for a group I’ve worked with for well over a year. I arrived to find the rest of the board, as well as a man I’d never seen before. These meetings are open to the public, but, normally, it’s just us board members handling board business and discussing what has happened in the group during the last month. It’s important to mention that, besides myself, there is only one other woman sitting on this board. Every single time one of us said something, random dude had to burst in to either explain why we were wrong or how we could be running our initiatives (some of which we’d been working on for all of 2016) more efficiently. Of course, he didn’t understand what our organization actually did or why we were working on these initiatives. Every time I pressed him on facts or pointed out his complete lack of experience with the subject matter being discussed, he attempted to deflect the comment or ignore me outright. Y’all know I didn’t let that slide, but it was all kinds of frustrating. I serve on this board as its vice president and we were discussing initiatives that I’d spearheaded for nearly twelve months, and yet this man felt confident enough to simply waltz into a meeting for a group he wasn’t a part of that had a mission he didn’t appear to comprehend and attempt to take over.

Gents, if you’re still with me, you might be thinking one of three things about the above example:

1. Nothing to see here. This all checks out. Absolutely no problem.

2. Wow, this guy is a jerk and this is an isolated incident that definitely doesn’t happen ALL THE DAMNED TIME.

3. Bullshit.

Well, I wish we could all just laugh in relief over the second option being true. But the fact of the matter is, mansplaining happens constantly. It arises from a culture in which men are taught to be confident no matter what and women are taught to always question themselves. In order to put a stop to this crap, we have to call it by name whenever we see it and challenge men to do better, even when they think they know better.

Guys, having a penis isn’t magic. It doesn’t bestow upon you any extra intelligence. I think you’ll find that the actual thinking happens much further north, and women are outfitted with all the necessary equipment, same as you.

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Women with Opinions on the Internet: Are You Triggered Yet?

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We’ve all heard the old cliche that opinions are like assholes, right? Everybody has one. Well, here’s a new spin on an old favorite: if you’re a woman daring enough to share an opinion on the internet, you can collect a lot more than a single asshole. They will literally come out of the woodwork to let you know how wrong you are, no matter what you’ve said.

Ladies, we all know, the cost of just being women is high in all facets of our daily lives. But there’s something about being on social media that really brings the boys to the yard, and it has nothing to do with a milkshake.

An article I wrote about the pitfalls of dating in the current political climate was recently shared on Twitter. No problem, right? It’s great exposure! But, wait, I’m a woman with an opinion, which means there are legions of men waiting in the wings to descend with insults, threats, and other charmingly fun comments about how no one wants to date me anyway (I’m seriously heartbroken, gents). Many of the comments made me wonder if they’d bothered to read the article at all, or just decided to shut me down because women are fun to look at but not so great to listen to.

This is every day on the internet, guys. All day long. No matter how innocuous or outlandish the opinion shared, push back is absolutely guaranteed. If it’s not mansplaining, it’s insults. If it’s not insults, it’s condescension. Sometimes it’s a fun mix of all three.

The basic formula for online interaction is this:

Woman: here’s an opinion based on my life and/or professional experience.

1st man: WRONG.

2nd man: here’s why you’re wrong…(goes on to explain, but tl:dr)

3rd man: I think what you actually meant to say was…(usually the opposite of what you said)

4th man: divisive slut/bitch/whore.

5th man: you should calm down.

For those of you non-women out there, I’m sure this seems like textbook over-exaggeration. Sigh. If only. Unfortunately, like I said, the cost of being a woman on social media is high. The same men who might not be able to locate the courage to speak to a woman in real life become valiant warriors in front of the keyboard, upholding their sworn duty to make sure the so-called fairer sex keeps her opinions to her goddamned self on social media sites. These guys are quick with a not all men retort or a below the belt slash at a woman’s appearance–truly a stab in the dark in many cases; for example, my Twitter handle featured a cartoon character as my avatar for over five years. These are the same guys who would probably describe themselves as ‘nice’ and don’t understand why they are still single.

I’ve triggered guys before by stating that men need to do better.

I’ve triggered guys by asserting that we don’t owe you a smile when we’re out and about in public.

I’ve triggered guys by stating that I’m not interested in dating.

I’ve triggered guys by remarking that more women need to run for political office.

I’ve triggered guys by bringing up systemic sexism.

You get the idea. I could go on and on. There is literally a treasure trove of material just sitting in the comments of my Twitter and Facebook feeds.

Guys respond by telling me I sound angry. That I need to calm down. Or that I sound ugly. I have to laugh at that one, even if the idea is sickening–that only women who don’t speak their minds are considered beautiful. I get called bitch, slut, and a myriad of other colorful and inventive names that would make my mother blush, and my mother knows her way around a string of expletives. No shrinking violets in this family.

These knee jerk, aggressively defensive responses to my social media posts used to upset me, and I made the mistake of interacting with the trolls many an aggravating time (mostly because I had really excellent comebacks; I mean, come on!). But I’m finding it funnier and funnier the more often it happens. How fragile these male egos are, that my words could so easily shake them to their core. How powerful I must be to elicit such a response with only my words. By attempting to tear me down, you’ve only revealed how weak your position truly is. It’s sad, really…but also funny. There have been instances where a particularly colorful and poignantly pathetic reply has caused me to laugh until I cried–thanks for the pick me up, random douchebag!

So, keep it coming, fellas. I’m here to drop knowledge and collect assholes, and you’d make a mighty fine addition to my collection.

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To the Man Who Told Me To Smile

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We’re strangers, and I’m out and about in public, minding my own business. I’ve never seen you before in my life, but you still thought you had the right to walk up to me and say:

Smile. You’re too beautiful not to be smiling.

I’m sure you thought this was a compliment. Because you called me beautiful. And I’m sure the way I recoiled instead of smiling felt like a slap across the face to you. But I was just trying to get through my day.

You don’t know the first thing about me. You have no idea that talking to perfect strangers makes me incredibly itchy, that it engages the anxiety that lies waiting inside of me to make life much more difficult than it has to be. And, honestly, you don’t have a right to know any of that information. Because we aren’t friends. We aren’t anything. We just happen to be in the same store at the same time. Women going out in public doesn’t give you the right to make demands on them or tell them how they ought to be comporting themselves to better please you. That’s bullshit. You wouldn’t do that to another man. You would leave him to behave as he sees fit in the world. But I’m too beautiful not to be smiling in your expert opinion, and you took it upon yourself to remedy the situation.

You aren’t the first man to tell me to smile, and I’m sure you won’t be the last. The nerve this takes on your part is infuriating and frightening, but it’s also pretty damned commonplace.

Here’s what you don’t know about being female: it’s an open invitation. For unsolicited advice. For demands on my time. For blatant staring. For following me out to the parking lot. For asking repeatedly for my number even after I make it clear I don’t want to give it to you. For calling me a stuck up bitch because I’m not interested. How dare I not be interested. Because you are a catch. A nice guy.

Here’s another thing you don’t know about being a female: it’s dangerous.

The man who tells you to smile inside the building could be the same man who forces you into his van in the parking lot. He could be the same man who follows you home from the store. He could be the same man who lashes out at you physically after you refuse to give him your phone number. You just never know. So, you learn to perpetually walk on eggshells, because it’s better to be safe than sorry.

When I go out in public, I never stop looking over my shoulder. I take constant note of my surroundings and watch the men around me, tracking their movements. Are they too interested? Have I seen one of them a few too many times in the store? My mind runs nonstop, assessing, planning, worrying, anticipating the worst case scenario.

That’s what it means to be female.

Here’s one more thing you should know: my public face doesn’t belong to you. I don’t owe you a smile. I don’t owe you anything at all. Internalize that shit. Breathe it in and keep it there. Hear me when I say that that if I’m out buying groceries or poking around stacks of books from my local library, simply inhabiting the same space doesn’t give you the green light to exert your will over my behavior. I could be dealing with any number of personal tragedies. Or I could just not feel like smiling at that exact moment. It really doesn’t matter. Mind your own fucking business and let me do the same.

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