Showing posts from 2016

Why Sonam and all other women are depicted as unfaithful

Meme directly translated to "I think this girl is only Sonam (Indian female name) is unfaithful". A few years back, a disgruntled lover in India wrote the words "Sonam Gupta is unfaithful" on a tattered note of money and posted it on the internet, resulting in all Sonam Guptas becoming infamous overnight. The memes and jokes cracked about Sonam being unfaithful have not stopped circulating the internet since (see featured meme above). In this image,  a guy is sitting close to one woman whilst behind her he is holding hands with another woman. Below it says,  “I think this girl is only Sonam (Indian female name) is unfaithful”.  The troubling thing in this image is that the guy here seems to be the one who is unfaithful and not the highlighted woman, because he is the one who appears to already have a partner and is going literally behind her back to have a physical connection with someone else.  Sadly, as it is always shown, the

My Story

The following story has been shared to us by a survivor of domestic violence. It started with names.  "You're scum. Your family is scum."  "You're ugly... do you know that? I hope you know that. You actually make me sick looking at you." He'd come home drunk, after he'd told me I was a psycho for not wanting him to get drunk. He'd wake me up and sit on the end of my bed and tell me... "You're disgusting, you're ugly. Remember that." I would try to turn over and ignore him, I would try to will the morning here sooner. He wouldn't let me... if he saw my eyes closing he'd move closer, he'd talk louder. He'd get closer and closer and he'd whisper in my ear "You're disgusting, you're fat and you're ugly. You're lucky to have me. It's your fault we don't have sex... you're too ugly." I would get up to go into another room, I just wanted to sleep so

My Story is Not Over Yet (Poem by Devon Leahy)

The following poem has been shared to us by a survivor of intimate partner violence. Stop. It's in my head but not in my words, It reaches my mouth but his words overpower mine He says relationships are about giving and taking You have to compromise. So I do what it takes to make him happy, Inside and outside the bedroom. When I want to cry 'stop!', I remember that I am compromising, That I am making him happy. That's what relationships are. Giving and taking, So I give him what he needs me to. And take the time to push the memories Into the back of my mind. But I would not compromise When my Mom got involved. If he wanted me to feel pain, that's fine, But when I knew my Mom would be in pain Combing the streets for me, I drew the line. I did not stop compromising for me, I did it so my Mom did not have to feel pain. So I gave my Mom what she wanted, A breakup. And took the time to push the memories Into the back of my mind. But this t


This resource has been created by the team at The Sydney Feminists as a guide to feminist parenting. We strongly believe that if we can teach our children to respect, question and reason, this will gift them with the tools necessary to overcome any of our parental shortcomings. DO make sure both parents get opportunities to care for their children on their own, without the other parent as a back-up or on-call DO make sure all children, regardless of gender, are taught basic household skills, such as cleaning and cooking DO model egalitarian gender roles in the household, regularly swapping household tasks and sharing responsibility for managing family/household related tasks and events DO ensure that children's household tasks are shared rather than segregated by gender. Make sure each child's contribution is equally valued, and make sure pocket money is fair! DO discuss recent news or current social issues in the media with your child and ask them what the
The following poem has been shared to us by a domestic violence survivor. TO BE INVISIBLE IS TO BE FREE Where should I start, how should I begin? Why do I feel so alone in this world I live in? I no longer feel pain, trained myself not to, My emotional wall, it allows nothing through. There is a sadness in my eyes, I feel it is always there, Hidden well by the smile of disguise that I wear. The rain is my tears I watch in delight as it pours down, My sorrow is deep enough to flood this whole town. Time is my enemy it ticks like a bomb in my head, Nobody would notice if tomorrow I was dead. I turn to the mirror in times of anguish and despair, Only she can comfort me, only she will care. Loneliness is my one and only true friend, With him I can find sanctuary, on him I can depend. Whatever happened to the girl with the big smile, Who could fall over in a crowd and still be laughing all the while? Where did she go, and will she ever return? And will her soul ever
The following poem has been shared to us by a sexual assault survivor. BENT As tears treacle down my cheek, I feel hopeless, lifeless, hurt and weak The morning started out so good But that all changed, I knew it would He violated my dignity, when used me like a toy,  The pain is overwhelming, my heart he will destroy I woke up early and got ready with a smile, Sang my happy songs, feeling happy all the while While he slept I cleaned and washed with glee, Then he woke up and stole it all away from me There was no kiss of passion, no soft hugs nor gentle touch, Being pushed onto the bed, I guess, has become a routine as such It was all about his satisfaction, that was his only aim, To him it meant nothing, and neither did I, it was all just a selfish game Grabbing at my stockings, he pulled them half way down my leg, How many times did I plead him to stop? How many times did I beg? Ignoring my cries he continued on, with no slight hesitation
Who’s Teaching Boys about Consent? Posted on Jane Doe  in Steubenville, Ohio.   Rehtaeh Parsons  in Cole Harbour, Nova Scotia. My heart goes out to these young women—one who is scarred for life and the other who decided that her wounds cut too deep and the pain could no longer be endured. Raped, then publicly humiliated, verbally abused, laughed at, and blamed for the crimes of others. The abject cruelty involved—not only in the assaults but in the broadcasting of them and continued attacks—is incomprehensible, but it has raised important questions, chief among them: what is going on with boys today? The outrage generated by these two cases has placed the spotlight squarely on boys and the people who raise them. The concerns are many: How can boys who commit acts like these not understand that what they are doing is rape? Even if they are murky on the definition of rape, why on earth do they think it is acceptable to publicize pictures of young women in this ty
Rape Myths and Denial: The Brock Turner Case I was away this past weekend and not tuned in at all to the news or social media. I have just now begun reading the details of the  Brock Turner  case. In light of the shocking statements being made by his supporters, all of whom have chosen to ignore the impact on the victim and focus only on how Brock’s life has been altered–as though he had nothing to do with his downfall–I am sharing something I wrote about rape myths. In this piece I reference the  Steubenville  rape case from 2012, which bears many similarities to the current case: star athletes get drunk and sexually assault an unconscious woman who remembers nothing until the details of the crime committed against her are made public, for all the world to see. In both cases the athletes’ supporters defended them as “good guys” whose  lives have been devastated–again, as though they were not the authors of their own demise. Writing about Steubenville at that time, I harboured