My Daugher is not a Diva

I know many people will call their kids “divas” with no bad intentions, just simply to be cute. I have no problem with folks doing that…

To me,it’s not the word that I have an issue with so much, as it is the connotations that go with that phrase.

In my opinion, we are raising girls with the wrong message. Most of you will think I am a femi-nazi, or an extreme feminist, but I think what I’m saying has real validity and implications for our girls. As a mother of a daughter, I take this to heart.

Some friends and I were talking about how clothes for girls are often inappropriate. Words and slogans on the ass of a child’s pants are extremely adult for say, an eight-year old. Camis and padded tanks are almost a given at many children’s stores. I myself am a very small size, and so I have to shop with Tweens or pay 100 bucks a pop to get jeans that fit. When I went in for shorts last summer, I was wondering if the pairs they had on display would show my vaginal lips. I mean, come on!

It’s not just fashion design, but it’s the message and media that is out there for our kids.

While I too love singing a little “Bippity, boppity, boo,” now and again, every single item for girls seems geared for princesses–or princess themes. I recognize that sure, girls inherently (or boys) may like princess themed items without any influence from society, but already people are lining up to get my daughter Barbies…and she’s not even two. People buy princesses chairs, and tell her she is pretty all the time. Now no doubt, my kid is pretty to me and I want her to know that and hear that too, but I would rather someone look her in the face and tell her, “You’re really smart.”

Looks fade. I grew up surrounded by the idea that being perfect was the only real viable way to look, and thanks to that, I have battled with my self-esteem for a very long time. I was very tempted to go under the knife and fix my nose (I didn’t do it), but after the consultation, I chickened out. I wasn’t sure if I could handle my post-surgery response. Some days I wish I did it and consider the option, and other days I think I’m a total idiot for thinking like that and if someone thinks I’m ugly because of my nose then they’re a big fat idiot.

Have you ever taken a quick look at books marketed for young girls?

Pinkalicious? Fancy Nancy? Now I have never read Pinkalicous, so I cannot attest to it, but after reading a few Fancy Nancy books, I was bored to tears. All the girl does is care about fashion and magazines. Now, if she were an awesome designer, that might be cool. If my daughter wanted to design clothes, I would be more than supportive. I love clothes just as much as the next person, but I feel like there are just so few other messages girls get about what they could be, other than the sparkly pretty save-able lovable dramatic female.

Save me! I need to be saved! I am going to be eaten alive by vampires (Isn’t that the whole Twilight thing–Edward saving Bella? I have no idea as I have never read the books or seen the movies.) I am a helpless woman! I can do nothing.

You think this stuff doesn’t exist anymore? I dare you to watch female-dominated TV and tween movies for a month. Come back to me and tell me what you find.

I am a sparkly (sometimes) lovable dramatic female who ashamedly cannot change a tire, but I am also an intellectual and a thinker. A writer. I just wish there was more of a tangible visible presence for girls that went beyond the tank top and nail polish she is wearing.

And back to the word Diva. Most friends call their girls divas because they’re fussy or headstrong…or like nice clothes. I have no problems with that at all. My problem lies that we have this notion in our society thanks to the Real Emptyheaded Housewives, the Kardashians, beauty culture, culture of me, me, me with a skewed narrative about being female.

The narrative:

I’m a female who is full of sex appeal, but I have no idea how to own my own sex appeal; instead, I will just be an item for people to look at, because my looks are my best weapon of course. I’m a “DIVA” because I get my way and don’t let anyone stop me. I’m an entitled bitch. Things should come easy to me, and if they don’t, I want nothing to do with it. I don’t have to talk to you if you don’t dress well. I don’t think about much around in the world, because I have frivolous television and interests to occupy me. I’m all about knowing how to get a guy off and what not to say during sex.

This may sound delusional or judgmental of me, but hey, it’s my five cents, and I think the attitude is prevalent. My friends, of course, are not like this, but I have interacted with this type quite a few times.

And you may ask, “What’s wrong with wanting to please a man?”

Nothing. Nothing at all, but how many women can please themselves and really ask for what they need. Let me differentiate between bitch and diva. A bitch is a phrase most often used for women who go for what they want in the world/workplace, and are resented by men for doing so. In my article, I am saying that a true Diva (not a little girl who dresses sparkly and is sassy, that’s all good and dandy) in today’s day and age is a spoiled, frivolous, and empty woman.

While there have been many words feminists have tried to take and appropriate into a more powerful and less sexist form, like cunt and bitch for example, we should leave Diva at the door.

A girl can be pink and sparkly, or boyish and yellow. A girl can be quiet and logical, or emotional and loud. There is nothing wrong with this…a little Snow White isn’t going to kill the woman inside of the girl, but we need to carefully assess what stories, clothes, songs, and movies are showing our young girls. We need to be sure of the message and the intent these kids are getting.

I know the effects of these messages as I have dealt with them as a teenager. I remember refusing to kiss a boy at twelve thinking, “Why is it so hard to say no?”

Now maybe other women didn’t experience this, but I paid clear and close attention to the female images around me. MTV sold sex, and hey, everyone was buying it. I remember going from being a AAAA nothing to a DD, and feeling like an object overnight. It rocked my world in a way that I am sure no one expected it would. When I see teenage girls today, my first thought is, “If my mother thought I dressed inappropriately, I cannot imagine what she would think of this.”

I fear that my daughter and yours reader, will stop dreaming, and start placating to men and the culture around us.  I long for a visible strong and diverse female representation that my daughter can look to and be proud.

All I can ask is that my daughter grows up to be a giving person, who doesn’t give so much that she ends up empty-handed. I ask that she is a woman confident in her own sexuality and in complete ownership without falling prey to what men would like her to be. I ask that she works for what she wants, and gives on the way up, rather than stepping on every heal and head she passes.

My daughter is not a Diva and I can only hope that one day, she will be a Bitch, in the way we feminists appropriated it for ourselves to be: a confident, go-getting, but classy woman who is self-aware and respectful. That is the woman I aim for her to be. If she wants tutus and rainbows, I will go along for the ride just as well as if she wants jeans and sweatshirts.

She is part of my DNA, but she is not me. She is her own unique bit of wonderfulness.

Ashamed! A few embarrassing songs that I absolutely love! Part 1

Pre-MTV days, I reviewed bands for college radio and zines. I checked out tons of shows, and was often found jamming out in tiny clubs with a pad and pen in hand.

There’s a love for music that always seems to come through in my memoir. Somehow, I’m always thinking of how a song played out into a scene. I figured I might share a few of my dirty musical secrets.

#1 “Disco Inferno,” by the Trammps

Seriously bitches. Grab your polyester and boogie down. Jimmy Ellis had a very soulful voice–full of a lot of that flavor found from the Godfather himself, “James Brown.” In general, most people I know don’t go blasting disco music, but I had this real disco revival back when I was 19, or 20. Polyester shirts. Bell bottoms. Saturday Night Fever. There’s nothing like blasting a little “Disco Inferno” while dancing in your house…or from your car, singing it loudly so people just stare at you because you’re a total freak, because you are!

#2 Debbie Gibson–“Out of the Blue” album.

I ‘ahem’ really dread sharing this horrific fact.  I will make it look better by telling you all that I don’t LOVE this album, but there are a few good pop bubblegum songs on that record that I loved as a kid…and 3 of them made it into my Itunes library. Egads! That’s like the literary equivalent of reading Twilight.

I digress.

Debbie Gibson actually did write a good portion of her music, unlike many pop tweens of today. How do I know that? Her old manager signed me on to a shitty record deal, that’s how. So not only could she play piano and sing, she did write lyrics.

Okay, I will now spank myself for this awful aberration.

#3 Good song,  but  stupid when I hear it.

Jay-Z’s “Can I get a..?”Okay, anytime I hear this song or any song on XM radio’s Backspin– NWA anyone?–I instantly start rapping. I am the last person anyone wants to see rapping at any point in one’s life. I once rapped in a fire-safety PSA. It was dreadful, but a good paycheck, and hey, I helped save kids from fire hopefully.

I absolutely love some hip-hop, but I sure look painful rocking out to it. Maybe there’s some Af-Am roots in my family…that would be awesome, but I doubt it. Hmm, calling ancestry.com

 

#4 Speaking of really white guys…

Rick Astley’s “She Wants to Dance with Me”

This dude was so white! You could see all of his major organs through his suit and tie! I loved this song, and still have it in my itunes. It was released around 1987-1989. He hasn’t been heard from since approximately 1991, and if he has been, no one gives a shit.

 

This is the end of Part 1 of embarrassing songs I like!

Check out my embarrassing fire safety video on You Tube:

Cheesy “Be cool with fire safety” Video (Part 1)

by  Segadude3000

 

 

 

 

 

Enough about my uterus! Shut up.

Why are people so invested in my uterus? In anyone’s uterus?

Why does Joe Blow from Indianapolis or Marty Moe from Florida, or Annie from Dallas, Texas care about what other women do with their uterus’s?? 

Why do my neighbors, fellow gym rats, etc give a crap about me and my little old uterus?

Is it really that sexy? I mean, I think I am pretty sexy, but I have never had a great look at my uterus! Maybe it’s fantastic!

It’s not just the annoying barrage of “End Roe vs. Wade!” people that bug me and believe me they truly do, but the people that constantly ask me if I am going to have another child.

Why don’t these people worry about their children? Their lives? To everyone spouting off about what “other women” should do, I suggest this: become a better parent or person.

You want to keep people from having an unwanted child?

Try volunteering with teenagers. Try advocating condoms because Lord knows abstinence talks rarely work..

And before vilifying women, try talking to women who have had abortions. Ask them why. Ask them if they did it carelessly or for a reason. I’ve spoken to quite a few women who have had abortions, and it was never because they were bored that day!
 

And people don’t just talk about uteruses or uteri’s?/– (what is the plural of uterus anyway?) to discuss abortions, but they talk about reproduction…how many kids one will have or not have, etc.

It’s common talk in our society to “assume” that people will have children. The second someone walks down the aisle we all want to know, “When will they procreate?”

Is this just an American thing? 

I’ve never had so many people ask me when I am having another child as much as I have in the past three weeks. I am almost expecting someone to do an exam of my cervix. I might as well walk around with a magnifying mirror and stirrups.

I just wish people would leave me alone already. Let me use my uterus and vagina for whatever I decide to use it for. Let other women use their bodies as they so choose. They are the ones who will have to live with whatever choice they make, not you.

You want to be helpful instead of annoying??
Don’t ask women without children when it will happen or why don’t they want kids? Instead, ask them about their lives–gasp! They have lives without children?! Yes, they sure do! Ask couples who just got married what they’re most looking forward to, what goals they’re looking to achieve. If they want to travel.
I know people ask the “When are you having (another) a baby?” question very innocently. I know many people don’t mean any harm. I have asked the question before, although I don’t like to anymore as I have learned it’s a bad idea. I just think we need to question this cultural norm. It’s nosy. Invasive. Does anyone ask a man, when are you getting a vasectomy? Have you made any unwanted babies? What are you doing with your penis?
The same goes for people with many children. Stop commenting. You are not special. No one cares what you think. While I agree it seems socially irresponsible to have nineteen kids like that one lady, it’s not my place to comment even if I feel she is risking her life and creating way too many mouths to feed in a day and age when our resources are numbered.
Fact is, my opinion means nothing to those people, and nor should it.
Some days, I wish I had a penis. Not only would it be easier to pee and I could look at it all day and play with it ( I totally would), but then no one would ask me when I was having a baby or tell me what to do with myself.

I could just be a person with some privacy, and um, no government regulation.