The gender disparity and violence is often closer home than we like to believe.
Violence in all its splendid subtlety roots deep and near. From more obvious and unacceptable assault and yelling to more acceptable passive-aggressive, to less hated projections, violence is seemingly comfortable in its apparent omnipresence.
Self-respect, mutual love and warmth are precious camphor on back of our donkey of a civilization. Every day this donkey is exercising its 'free will' to self-indulge by trying to throw away the camphor - because man! it feels good! Our donkey of civilization does not stop here. Now, it burns the camphor it carries. Unknowingly, it self-immolates.
In this fire of gender-friction, both lose.
And, guess what? I am neck deep in this affection-violence business myself. And, today- oh! My feminist, male-chauvinist, all loving, all embracing violent (and undecided) humanity! I uphold my contribution to this mess!
In allowing my family members to perpetuate this violence, I contribute to it. However, at times it appears that the most prudent decision is to allow and be quiet.
My young and western educated mind detests misogyny. International, national and local news are a standing testimony to our very prejudiced and violent world. However, in this moment of honesty, I would like to forget the big bad world- and admit that my own home is a living example of women being refused opportunities and subjected to uncomfortable expressions of anger.
Sadly, my own family members, who are product of my own street and my own country (which I wish to leave at times unlike the more patriotic folks), consider it their right to order me around and when refused exact obedience, to yell and issue threats.
Aah! I would prefer to stay anonymous. However, this moment of honesty feels very refreshing - what a relief to not be hiding anymore!
I would love to blame them, their privileged gender, absence of my father (he died when my brother was 5) as a role-model and the streets they live in. And, yet I see the women, who perpetuate the ills of our male-dominated, strength-dominated civilization. Many tragedies have issued forth from misplaced power (over) of the dominant gender and the (victim-) mentality of the dominated. We perpetuate it through our silence, through our okaying the violence.
My big damn fear is to add to this collective human loss.
I am pleased to observe that my self-worth and respect is not a function of people external to me. This is our true emancipation! Victory over self! A woman, fully herself with no need to defend what is.
As long as there is no physical violence or physical stopping of what needs to be done, I constantly surrender to my big-little truths - My big vast Life.
Yet I fear for the women, who my family members will interact with later and our society in general.
Please give me a chance to explain. When they yell, I chose to be quiet and not add fuel to rage for many reasons. One of them being that I genuinely don't see elevated volume of speech as a solution. I find it joyous to lead by example. Not to forget that I am physically much weaker than them. I am not a fool enough to confront.
Why am I living with them still? This seems to be the best arrangement given my family, attachments, and economic standing.
But, where is the line between patience, self-contentment and potentially perpetuating violence? Is fighting back the sole criteria of bravery? I ask on behalf of all women subject to far more severe physical, emotional, and social pain, when silent, is their silence a mark of lesser courage and wisdom? Is it not wise to allow life when very easily they could be thrashed into pulp, or burnt alive or sold to slave trade?
In a movie-like world, the victim puts up a fight and finds her own support group. Following which, the perpetrating society learns its lesson. But, in an alive world, the danger of dissenting can not and should not be ignored.
Behind the facade of courage and education, often lurks the truth of inequality, of our assumed rights and privileges. What happens when the violence hits home? What are the million excuses we give for allowing it- destiny, surrender, acceptance, wisdom, helplessness? What are our options? On the other hand is the (nearly inevitable) martyrdom of dissenting the sole-criteria of emancipation and welfare?
I wish I had an answer. My desire is not to feel even-ed out. Let us not add more to this violence, with counter-violence -of let me get back to you- spirit. Why on earth would I do that? I only desire a more loving society, a more loving home.
I long for hearing a simple - "I am Here", followed by quiet and deep - "I see you."
Violence in all its splendid subtlety roots deep and near. From more obvious and unacceptable assault and yelling to more acceptable passive-aggressive, to less hated projections, violence is seemingly comfortable in its apparent omnipresence.
Self-respect, mutual love and warmth are precious camphor on back of our donkey of a civilization. Every day this donkey is exercising its 'free will' to self-indulge by trying to throw away the camphor - because man! it feels good! Our donkey of civilization does not stop here. Now, it burns the camphor it carries. Unknowingly, it self-immolates.
In this fire of gender-friction, both lose.
And, guess what? I am neck deep in this affection-violence business myself. And, today- oh! My feminist, male-chauvinist, all loving, all embracing violent (and undecided) humanity! I uphold my contribution to this mess!
In allowing my family members to perpetuate this violence, I contribute to it. However, at times it appears that the most prudent decision is to allow and be quiet.
My young and western educated mind detests misogyny. International, national and local news are a standing testimony to our very prejudiced and violent world. However, in this moment of honesty, I would like to forget the big bad world- and admit that my own home is a living example of women being refused opportunities and subjected to uncomfortable expressions of anger.
Sadly, my own family members, who are product of my own street and my own country (which I wish to leave at times unlike the more patriotic folks), consider it their right to order me around and when refused exact obedience, to yell and issue threats.
Aah! I would prefer to stay anonymous. However, this moment of honesty feels very refreshing - what a relief to not be hiding anymore!
I would love to blame them, their privileged gender, absence of my father (he died when my brother was 5) as a role-model and the streets they live in. And, yet I see the women, who perpetuate the ills of our male-dominated, strength-dominated civilization. Many tragedies have issued forth from misplaced power (over) of the dominant gender and the (victim-) mentality of the dominated. We perpetuate it through our silence, through our okaying the violence.
My big damn fear is to add to this collective human loss.
I am pleased to observe that my self-worth and respect is not a function of people external to me. This is our true emancipation! Victory over self! A woman, fully herself with no need to defend what is.
As long as there is no physical violence or physical stopping of what needs to be done, I constantly surrender to my big-little truths - My big vast Life.
Yet I fear for the women, who my family members will interact with later and our society in general.
Please give me a chance to explain. When they yell, I chose to be quiet and not add fuel to rage for many reasons. One of them being that I genuinely don't see elevated volume of speech as a solution. I find it joyous to lead by example. Not to forget that I am physically much weaker than them. I am not a fool enough to confront.
Why am I living with them still? This seems to be the best arrangement given my family, attachments, and economic standing.
But, where is the line between patience, self-contentment and potentially perpetuating violence? Is fighting back the sole criteria of bravery? I ask on behalf of all women subject to far more severe physical, emotional, and social pain, when silent, is their silence a mark of lesser courage and wisdom? Is it not wise to allow life when very easily they could be thrashed into pulp, or burnt alive or sold to slave trade?
In a movie-like world, the victim puts up a fight and finds her own support group. Following which, the perpetrating society learns its lesson. But, in an alive world, the danger of dissenting can not and should not be ignored.
Behind the facade of courage and education, often lurks the truth of inequality, of our assumed rights and privileges. What happens when the violence hits home? What are the million excuses we give for allowing it- destiny, surrender, acceptance, wisdom, helplessness? What are our options? On the other hand is the (nearly inevitable) martyrdom of dissenting the sole-criteria of emancipation and welfare?
I wish I had an answer. My desire is not to feel even-ed out. Let us not add more to this violence, with counter-violence -of let me get back to you- spirit. Why on earth would I do that? I only desire a more loving society, a more loving home.
I long for hearing a simple - "I am Here", followed by quiet and deep - "I see you."
Thank you for the post which cuts straight to the issue (and much less drama!) I am here. I see you.
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