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I spent my years learning French in Highschool(and now forgotten). Now with double the disappointment as I realize how word-awesome German is.

Consider this small list of bon mots:

Weltschmerz – world weariness.

Schadenfreude – a feeling of enjoyment that comes from seeing or hearing about the troubles of other people

Backpfeifengesicht – It describes someone who you feel needs a slap in the face.

Sitzfleisch — (seat meat) – it describes a character trait. Those who possess a lot of seat meat are able to sit through and weather something incredibly hard or boring.

Dreikäsehoch (Three cheeses high) – However, what it describes is a person who is vertically challenged, implying they’re only as tall as three wheels of cheese placed on top of each other.

Schattenparker (Shadow parker) – This word is part of a series of insults for men which accuse them of unmanly behavior. In this case, of parking their car in the shadow to avoid heating up the interior.

Forget French as Canada’s second language it ought to be German. :>

german

commericialrapetrade    Prostitution hurts women.  It doesn’t matter whether the trade in commercial rape is legal or not – reducing women to the role of fuckable object corrodes their body, mind, and soul.

But it can’t be all that bad for everyone, right?  Let’s see what Rae Story, one of the ‘lucky’ high class escorts has to say on her experiences.

  “Towards the end of my work as an “escort” I was thoroughly exhausted. The brothel work had been brutal on my body, but the “independent escort” work had exhausted my spirit. Whereas once I just ran the gamut of garden-variety sexual activities with, at best, a distant smile and a “good day to you,” I now had been obsessing over my appearance, my apartment, my advertising, and my “image” as well. I’d been made to adopt the most insidious of all contracts: The Girlfriend Experience — winsome, involved, overly nurturing, and available. Intelligent enough to understand but never enough to contradict. Lying to “clients” about my background, my views, and my habits in order to demonstrate a pleasing personhood for the paying male ego.

Friends had also left brothels in droves and began to navigate this landscape of pretense for themselves. According to “clients,” we didn’t drink heavily, smoke, do drugs, swear, speak coarsely (other than at appropriate sexual moments) argue, have opinions, or refuse to gratify. In truth, most of the women I knew had problems with drink, drugs, eating disorders, mental health problems, and anger issues. We may not have been routinely beaten by punters or raped (although it does happen), but our self-esteem and self-assurance was as paper thin as our digital platforms.We pretended to be happy, empowered, sexy, and comfortable in our roles as sponges for immediate male satisfaction while pushing our maladies and distresses down the sides of the sofa… just like those women detailed by Betty Friedan: isolated housewives, secretly quaffing vodka and pills to deal with their controlled misery. In each of our separate apartments, the “high class escorts” I knew were indeed like those housewives, only now it was more than one “husband” we served to keep a roof over our heads.”

— Rae Story

     It would seem that centring your existence around pleasing of others (men) – the traditional and expected role for females – is a shit job no matter how you package it.

[Source]

Andreadworkinthelie

-‘The Lie,’ Andrea Dworkin. 1979. Letters From A War Zone, 1993.

“I think the weirdest thing about having teenaged boys yell: “suck my dick bitch.” at me is that there’s nothing I can say to them that will make them feel the way that makes me feel.

I have lived my entire life with this threat of sexual violence hanging over my head: I’ve experienced it too. They’re hitting me where I live.

Women can’t threaten men with sexual violence and make men feel small and want to crawl out of their own skin; it’s taken a lifetime of violent socialisation just like this (men leering out of cars since I was 12, peers reaching between my legs in junior high, uncles getting too close, sports coaches grabbing my hips, being groped on transit, being sexually assaulted) to provoke this visceral reaction in me. Men haven’t experienced this constant background radiation of violation that contextualises moment like this.

I get well-intended messages from men: “I’m sorry you had to experience that.” “Those kids are jerks.” I do appreciate people reaching out. The thing is: in the context of my life experiences, this wasn’t even a particularly traumatic incident, so much as an illustrative one. It’s one of thousands of these moments.

I made me sad and a little contemplative, sure, but I’ll get by; feminism really helps with that, because it gives me this (almost) unshakable belief that I am human.

But I don’t want to hear: “those [particular] kids are jerks.”

I want to hear: “I’m not going to tolerate misogyny in my own life, and among my social circle. This stops now; it stops with me.”

There is no threat I can make to a man that will make him hate the fact he was born in the body he was born in. The second I start thinking I’m a person, someone reminds me that to them, I’m just a hole. I’m a bitch. I actually can’t make them see I’m a person. That has to come from other men.

As I get older, I get more and more angry when men I know are hostile to feminism. Because it means they aren’t really listening, or even caring, when I describe the reality of my life. Feminism is my refuge, and the sole source of my belief that I’m not deserving of the way I’m treated. It is the only movement that has dared to put forth the radical belief that women are people.

I don’t even want to hurt the men who do things like this. I just want them to be kind. Yeah, I can carry my knife, or get a big dog in self defense, but I actually don’t have a lust for vengeance or causing people pain. That’s really the worst part of it: being better – being more human, more forgiving, more kind – than them, and still losing.”

   –Source: hyggehaven

   The radical belief that women are people.  The year, dear readers, is 2016.  In your social circles if you see shit like this happen, don’t laugh it off, don’t ‘boys will be boys it’ – demand an end to the behaviour at once.  If the push back is too great, the people you happen to be interacting with are telling you a great deal about how they regard one half of the human species, and more importantly strongly arguing against their continuing membership in your social circle.

-“We harbor an ideological bias against the feminine voice, rooted in positive primal associations with masculinity.”

Some highlights from the JSTOR article On Men and Women’s Public Speech.

“Gunn uses speeches delivered by Hillary Clinton and Barack Obama in their 2008 contest for the Democratic nomination to illustrate how gendered norms about speech create a double bind for women.

Gunn argues that the field of public address is an important symbolic arena where we harbor an “[ideological] bias against the feminine voice,” a bias, he contends, that is rooted in positive primal associations with masculinity (and the corresponding devaluation of femininity, the voice that constrains and nags—the mother, the droning Charlie Brown schoolteacher, the wife).

MFspeechBoth Gunn and Campbell contend that masculine speech is the cultural standard. It’s what we value and respect. The low pitch and assertive demeanor that characterize the adult male voice signify reason, control, and authority, suitable for the public domain. Women’s voices are higher pitched, like those of immature boys, and their characteristic speech patterns have a distinctive cadence that exhibits a wider range of emotional expression. In Western cultures, contends Gunn, this is bad because it comes across as uncontrolled. We associate uncontrolled speech (what Gunn calls “the cry, the grunt, the scream, and the yawp”) with bodily functions and sexuality—things that happen in the private, domestic spheres (both coded as feminine). Men are expected to repress passionate, emotional speech, Gunn explains, precisely because it threatens norms of masculine control and order.

The notion of control also relates to the cultural ideal of eloquence. Eloquence is not just a Western value but is rewarded in many cultures around the world.”

[…]

““Eloquence” is, essentially, code for values associated with masculinity.”

Ouch.  Yet another patriarchal societal barrier that needs to be brought to light and rectified with all due haste.

 

Greetings fair readership, it is time for a new foray here at DWR.  A recent comment by JZ and gentle prod by RoughSeas are the inspirations for this post.

The idea that JZ had was that a comparative essay looking at the differences and similarities between adolescent experiences would be an interesting read.   I agreed with him at the time and promptly back-burnered the idea because doing new things is hard.   But we’re going to give it a try anyways, because we’re like that around here.

This is what I envision – my faithful commentariat would offer a brief (three paragraph  (300 words-ish) anecdotal tale of what the socialization was like growing up through those years we now call adolescence.  Let me offer you some food for thought, the original Laurie Penny quote for starters:

“Adolescence, for a woman, is the slow realization that you are not considered as fully human as you hoped. You are a body first, and your body is not yours alone: whether or not you are attracted to men, men and boys will believe they have a claim on your body, and the state gets to decide what you’re allowed to do with it afterwards.”

Some questions/story starters to get the juices flowing:

1. I was so embarrassed when…
2. My finest hour as a youth.
3. My worst experience as a youth…
4. I  remember an instance of  how my socialization affected me when…
5. [Whatever you think is relevant]

This can be dangerous territory, and thus let me state now that this thread will be heavily moderated with hopes of making a safe space for people to share their stories.  If you feel the need to faff on about free speech and censorship, and/or act in a general discourteous manner, the recently polished ban hammer shall fall swiftly and discretely.  Furthermore, this is one of those rare occasions where the option to post anonymously may actually be a good thing.  Please feel free to use that option at your discretion.

 

A good host always starts these sorts of things off, so I’m told.  As I was writing this post a vivid clutch of memories came back from my high school days.

 

It was a good time back highschool, as in grade 10 I learned that this would be the last taste of the compulsory physical education (torture) that I would have to take.  Track and field, the tepid combination of aimlessly running/hopping/leaping about and throwing a myriad of things, was just finishing up.  My sub-group was responsible for putting away the high jump mat, as this PE class just happened to be at the end of the day.

So, with the allure of the end of day just around the corner our tired group of teenagers was hustling to get the large and bulky crash pad mat back into school and put away.  Outside, while we were all carrying the mat, one my less intrepid peers decided it would great fun if they ran up and threw themselves onto the mat.  Of course, with the extra weight we dropped it, and the jumping doofus was immanently pleased with himself.  The gym teacher was also unimpressed and told this particular student to stop horsing around and get with the program (with perhaps a bit more vivace in his word choice, I can’t be sure :)).   So we all found the handles to the mat and once again began lugging the cursed beast toward the school.

Can you guess what happened?  The Superman in waiting decided that there would be nothing as much fun as doing the same thing twice – because one solid declaration of your assholery just isn’t enough – and off he went, this time though he chose to land near me.  And for whatever reason I decided that this particular sack of jerkitude and his attitude needed a stern correction.  The correction, in question, was a flying elbow smash straight out of ‘pro-wrestling’ that landed directly in the small of the Jumpy-Jerk McAsshole’s back.  He yelped, quite vociferously,  in what I assume was a mixture of surprise and pain.  Keep in mind, this is coming from the non-athletic, glasses wearing, book devouring nerdy kid who always listened to the teachers and never created waves.  I immediately apologized to him and the teacher and was expecting a severe reprimand for such irresponsible, dangerous behaviour.

Instead, the gym teacher was crowing with laughter, as were the rest of the mat handlers.  Everyone was like Woo!  That was awesome!  Everyone was congratulating me for attacking JJMcA for jumping on the mat a second time.  I was taken aback then, as I am now at how easily violence is praised and endorsed as a method of solving problems.  And in hindsight I can see this small happening as just one of many instances of socialization at work that consciously and unconsciously help shape the person that I am today.

—–

Okay, well if there are any takers on this free writing/reflecting assignment, you have my thanks in advance.  :)  If you’re like me you’ll be struggling with only 300 words, but I have faith in you, concision is a writers’ best friend.

The Female Version:

fdp1fdp3fdp2

fdp5

And then there is male date preparation:

mdp1

Wearing pants? Don’t smell? Check! Good to go!

 

Men worry that their date won’t measure up to their aesthetic preferences. Women worry that they’re going wind up dead.

The disparity is RIDICULOUS, and the fact that dudes get offended when women try to protect themselves is hard proof that way too many guys Do Not Understand how dangerous it is to be a woman. (Not to mention it’s fucking insulting. “How dare you not trust your life and safety to a complete stranger whose intentions you have no way of knowing”?)

The point is, “WE HAVE NO WAY OF KNOWING A NICE GUY FROM A SERIAL KILLER.”

It’s not like they fucking wear nametags, okay? Moreover, the most awful people with the worst intentions often put on the nicest face or deliberately make themselves seem harmless and likeable, to lull potential victims into a false sense of security. (Read up on Ted Bundy sometime. It’s horrifying shit. Or read any thread on the “Let’s Not Meet” subreddit.)

In order to protect ourselves, we are forced to assume the worst of every man we meet, because statistically speaking, the biggest danger to women…IS MEN. Saying “not all men are out to get you, you’re just being paranoid” is like saying “not every car you ride in is going to crash, so buckling your seatbealt is stupid.”

When dealing with an unknown situation, in the absence of absolute proof of safety, exercising a little extra caution can be the difference between life and death. Shaming women for being what you may view as overly cautious is every bit as horrid as blaming them if something goes wrong later on.

[Source]

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