Forged by Fire

Seriously....UGLY.

I recently painted my entire apartment. Living room, dining room, hallway, and kitchen. I painted the walls…the trim…the baseboard…and anything else in between. I have been begging my landlord to let me paint my apartment since I first moved in two years ago. He had previously painted the walls a faded white, while the trim was hunter green. I’m trying to be diplomatic when I say that…I seriously wanted to puke every time I looked at the walls in my apartment. I love the size of my apartment- it's on the first floor of a house, and it's very homey with a significant amount of room. But the hunter green trim...was just...wow.

Once my landlord  finally realized that I was a satisfactory tenant, he gave me permission to paint my apartment. Of course, because I’m me, I took his permission to the extreme and decided that his permission to “paint” also extended to “making any changes that I wanted.” (Picture me in my kitchen ripping down cupboards). So, suffice to say, I also made a few…er…modifications…in addition to all the painting that I mentioned above.

This might sound silly, but it was quite the sharp learning curve for me to learn how to paint. Sometimes I joke with people that I am blessed with two talents (academics and athletics), and everything else feels like I’m constantly boarding the proverbial struggle bus. Painting was no different. I had no idea how to use a roller, and “cutting-in” sounded like a great mystery that only someone with extremely well-honed fine motor skills could do. Heck, I barely even knew how to put up painter’s tape.  One of my friends laughed (nicely) when she first saw me putting it up, and she took me aside to show me the right way to do it.  Thankfully, my sister and a couple of friends are amazing, and they helped/showed me how to paint.

Even after their initial help, however, I had a loooot of painting to do by myself. Make no mistake- painting your entire apartment by yourself is a significant time commitment (the project stretched out over a month). And, of course, the project wouldn’t have been complete if I didn’t have a couple of…incidents…along the way. There was the time that I spilled an entiiiire bucket of white paint on my three seasons porch. I saw my life flash before my eyes before I realized that it spilled on linoleum, and this enabled me to not only clean up the mess, but I was able to save some of the paint. My favorite incident occurred when I stuck my foot in a gallon of paint, and I had to hop to my bathroom on one foot in order to clean it off. (Many of these incidents could have been avoided, clearly, if I would learn to put the lid on the paint). Of course, a few drops did manage to permanently find their way to my carpet, thereby staining it. I was able to creatively address this problem, however, by realizing that I could simply cut the stains out of the carpet with a scissors. (Don’t worry- my landlord doesn’t read this blog).

MUCH BETTER!
(Ignore the carpet- still working on my landlord for that one!)

I have a tendency to imbue significant meaning on nearly everything in my life, and my painted apartment is no exception. Now that the project is done, I am THRILLED that I painted it. It just feels so much more home-y…so much more Anne-ish….and I just feel even more settled and content here than before.

However, it definitely took me awhile to get to that “grateful” point. There were several points during the project when I cursed myself, cursed my landlord, cursed the color hunter green, and cursed a few other things for good measure. I think at one point I even casually looked to see if there was a Groupon for hiring people for painting projects. I mean…it took a REALLY long time. I work full-time, and I also have many relationships and obligations outside my job. So it was very difficult to find time to paint. Meanwhile, while trying to find time to paint, I had to live with the chaos of having my furniture turned every which way and not being able to properly sit down and eat meals. Moreover, it was really messy. Paint got all over my table, my clothes, and myself. I got so used to having paint on myself that I wouldn’t even think twice about going out in public to run errands with splatters on my body. Suffice to say…it was quite the ordeal to paint my apartment.

But I am grateful for the meanings that I have gleaned from this project. I realized that I continue to be more influenced by a culture of instant gratification than I realized. Of course it is going to take awhile to paint an entire apartment by yourself!! Especially when it's your first time engaging in such a project. Of course, it is going to be messy!! It's paint! Why did I think that I could instantly have my apartment painted without incident?!?!

It sounds so simple, almost cliché, and yet is a lesson that I find myself learning over, and over, again. The most beautiful, incredible aspects of life are those that are worth the work and the wait. Indeed, they are so beautiful that the journey itself often becomes beautiful, even when it has bumps along the way. Now, in hindsight, I love telling people about all of the “stupid” things that I did in my painting process.  I love thinking about the time that I spent with my sister, my friends, and myself in the process. I love the time that I spent engaging my body and mind in creativity. Moreover, I would not enjoy the final product if I did not feel/remember all of the work and time that went into its creation.

I think about the larger symbolism as well- I think about all of the trials and tribulations that we experience as humans. And I’ll be the first to admit that I bemoan (AKA whine about) my fair share of the trials that fall into my life. But I’m at a point where I can really see how they shape me as a person- it is often the trials that best hone my strength, my empathy, and my patience. These beloved traits are not ones that can necessarily be cultivated in any other way; these traits are forged in the fire, and I love it when I can see their creation.

I love that creation and beauty can come from chaos.  I love that it can come from an ugly ass hunter green apartment. I love that it can come from trials and tribulation. I love creation and beauty.

Do any of you have any experiences that sucked at the time, but that now you feel gratitude about?

Toot your horn!

 

First of all, our apologies for taking a week off from the blog! I’ll take the blame for it; it was my turn to write after all. In my defense, last week was a crazy week coming off of the holiday weekend. Fourth of July shenanigans coupled with all of my recent trips back and forth to Fort Knox, Kentucky for the summer left me with little time or energy to write. Womp womp. Sad face.

Anywhooooo, I’m back at it this week (obviously!). Last time Jill blogged, she questioned whether or not anyone was actually following and reading our blogs via our Facebook posts. The rest of us sisters collectively agreed that we didn’t care whether or not even one person was reading them because WE sisters sure as hell were reading all of them and that was worth it in itself. We all live such different and sometimes distant (sister Kristen was in Spain this summer and sister Jill just returned from a Disney Cruise) lives and don’t get nearly enough time together to pontificate, rant, and philosophize. We keep in touch as much as we can through group text and email but it’s just nice every week to read a longer version of what is going on in one sister’s life or mind for that particular writing.

Even though we sisters pretty much text or email daily, I’ve been so busy that I don’t think any of them really know why I have been traveling back and forth to Fort Knox. I’m finishing up an assignment in Recruiting and have had to go there to essentially try to recruit ROTC Cadets to join the Army National Guard upon graduating from college and commissioning as a second lieutenant versus joining the Active Army or the Army Reserves. All ROTC Cadets across the Nation attend this month long training at Fort Knox between their junior and senior year so by making multiple trips I was pretty much guaranteed to talk to every single Cadet that had any interest whatsoever in joining the National Guard. Obviously, not ALL of them want to join the Massachusetts National Guard specifically so I haven’t had to actually talk to ALL of the cadets. With one rotation left, I’d say I’ve talked to maybe 125 Cadets. Of course me, being the Feminazi that I am (HAHA! See my last blog post), took mental notes on the number and types of FEMALE cadets with whom I spoke. By the way, I’m being facetious about the Feminazi reference- I didn’t take mental notes just because I wanted something to complain about- I hope that I AM and continue to be a female role model to other females so I want to be aware of and informed about the tendencies and characteristics of the women who are following in my footsteps, those whom I may one day mentor.

Like I said, I have already talked to about 125 Cadets. Out of those 125, I’d say I have talked to MAYBE 20 females. I’m not exactly sure on that number but I’d say its right around 15%. More importantly, out of that 15%, there were only TWO (2!) that were interested in jobs outside of Military Intelligence, Medical Services, and Adjutant General (basically Human Resources). Typically and traditionally, the aforementioned jobs involve more office type work than other jobs in the Army and fewer chances to command large groups of Soldiers. Most of the time (of course I am generalizing here for all my Army friends reading this), Officers in these branches follow a career path to become a Staff Officer rather than a Commanding Officer. A Staff Officer is no less important and is still a leader but as a Commanding Officer one is directly responsible for up to hundreds of Soldiers who fall under the command. In the civilian world, a commanding office would be the equivalent to a CEO.  Anyway, what I sort of deduced from all of this was that none of the females came up to my table with the primary goal of wanting to command someday at the higher levels. I just didn’t get the sense from any of them that they wanted to BE IN CHARGE.

Now, I could be way off base here or just reading into things way too much but either way, the whole situation had me thinking. Why didn’t I get the sense from any of the female cadets that they wanted to BE IN CHARGE? I surely sensed it from some, if not most, of the males. Hell, maybe it’s just me and a jaded view? Maybe it was just the way in which I interacted with the female cadets? But no, I think it has to be more than that. What? I don’t know but I have read several articles since then that have got me thinking even more. Sidebar: this is another great reason for writing this blog even if it is only my sisters who read it- I get to share and reference articles that I enjoy and think are important without always having to email them separately. J  

I thought back to my old days as a Cadet. I myself, never really had much interest in being in charge to tell the truth. What changed since then (because I definitely want to be in charge now), I don’t know. Maybe I had a couple of really good mentors who told me I need to be in charge? Yes, fact. Maybe I witnessed some really good female officers before me? Maybe I witnessed and heard about numerous examples of accomplishments and contributions by female officers?  Well, yes, that’s also true except to a lesser extent because 1) there just aren’t a lot of female officers (we are only 15% of the force) out there in general and 2) here is where my opinion comes in, I don’t think we as females toot our own horns, so to speak, as loudly and as often as we should! We don’t toot them for our OWN achievements often enough and we sure as hell don’t toot them loud enough, if even at all, for OTHER women as often as we should!

Hell, the United States Navy just named its first female four-star admiral last week

 http://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation/2014/07/02/michelle-howard-female-four-star-admiral-/12018639/.

 and I barely heard about it. If not for Huff Post Women on Facebook, I don’t think I would have known about it. Furthermore, I failed to promote it myself! I should have been sharing that shit all over Facebook but nary a word from one Molly Alesch! Even one of my former male lieutenants was proud enough to share it! So that’s just one problem- not sharing our own or other women’s accomplishments often enough and loud enough. One of the other problems, I think, is that we use men as the baseline or in other words, we neutralize men’s accomplishments. This article really hits the nail on the head with that point:

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/valerie-alexander/lets-stop-neutralizing-men_b_5558581.html.

The author discusses how during the World Cup, sports commentators kept calling Landon Donovan the “all-time US leading goal scorer” when in fact he is NOT. He is not even in the top five. He is the top MALE US leading goal scorer but Abby Wambach blows him out of the water when it comes to number of goals. Just check out the article. This blog is already too long for me to explain it to you. J

Finally, I think that even when we as females DO try to toot our own horns, we are often not heard because some men are too busy speaking over us and discounting our contributions. We as women need to learn how to and practice telling men to STOP INTERRUPTING US! Check it out:

http://www.rolereboot.org/culture-and-politics/details/2014-05-10-simple-words-every-girl-learn/.

Of course, I am once again generalizing. There are MANY men in my personal AND work life who will listen to me without interrupting. However, when Urban Dictionary includes the word “Mansplain” in its word list, one can figure out that not enough men listen and respect women’s credentials and contributions.

Anyway, by no means am I criticizing the females for not wanting to be in charge. I understand that not everybody is like me and not everybody wants to or is cut out to be in charge. However, I have to believe that more than two of those females want to be in charge someday and more importantly, have the tools to be in charge and make a difference by doing so. Furthermore, research upon research has shown that organizations perform better if women are part of the leadership. If we want to encourage women to move to the top or be in charge in any of our organizations, military or civilian, I believe we need to cheer each other on- toot your own horn and help other women toot theirs as well. So ladies, start blowing!

Mother as First Guru

I have watched my son, who is six, turn into an amazing older brother to my daughter who turns one this week. I'm sometimes in awe of his ability to express care and concern for her. I laugh on the inside when he shushes her gently in the same rhythm and tone that I use. I find myself joyful when I see her light up when he comes down the stairs in the morning. I remember I was horrified when I realized my kids would be so far apart in age. Deployment set us back three years in the family planning department...the year before I knew was going to deploy because if i got pregnant I would never live down the speculation that I did it just to get out of the deployment, the year I was gone for reasons that should be obvious, and the year after I came back when I had a miscarriage and was too stressed to make a safe place for a baby to grow. So when Brooklyn was finally on her way, I remember being concerned about Trevor and how he would adjust to losing only child status. But I have to tell you, it's been amazing. I have worked actively to teach Trevor about what family means and how we need to treat each other. I have talked to him about the role of the older brother but also how we as a family have to work as a team because we all contribute to the well being of the family. How else do children learn  what is expected of adults and how to interact with the world? How else do they see what a marriage should look like and how family should treat each other? So many times parents defer that opportunity or go on auto pilot so they are not consciously creating a family. I think it may in part have to do with the fact that way too often people have children for selfish reasons. There is always some element of selfishness in child rearing and there are definitely rewards which are reaped by the parents. There is nothing wrong with experiencing and enjoying those aspects of parenting. If there weren't rewards from parenting the human race would've died out a long time ago.  But I think the difference is when people have children to fix parts of themselves or reflect glory upon themselves. I cringe when I hear women who are pregnant say, "Finally someone to love me for me." That's not a child's responsibility. I disagree with parents who think that just because their kid is good at something that means they are somehow wonderful parents. A child's natural talents really have nothing to do with the parents' abilities as parents. The two are not correlated. Period. These beliefs and ideas we have about kids and parenting have caused an erroneous perception about having children in our society. We have begun to think the kids should be there for the parents and not the other way around. What happens though when the child fails to bring the anticipated bliss to the parent? The parent then begins to resent that child and abdicate his or her responsibilities to that child because after all, the child only existed for the parents' glory. This is too huge of a responsibility to place on a child who is emotionally and physically immature. A child is incapable of meeting an adult's emotional needs. Instead, parents need to be there for their kids. I have to wonder if we devoted as much time and energy to building our families as we did in building careers wouldn't things look different? Corporations have mission statements, goals, targets, regular meetings and try to function in a way that promotes the best interest of the entity. People who work at corprorations try to treat each other professionally. Corporate employees work overtime to max their profits. What if we did that for our families? I hear parents speaking to their kids in a way that would get them fired if they spoke that way at work. What if we put that much energy and respect into our relationships? What if we sought a Return on Investment (ROI) from our relationships just like in the corporate world? What if we maximized profits by investing in our families? This would require a joint mission, goals, family meetings....and time and dedication. In this country we can build multibillion dollar corporations but our families are falling apart. We know how to build a successful entity that generates profits and rewards. We just don't apply it outside the corporate context. If we applied similar dedication to our families, I have to think our kids would be better adjusted and our relationships would be stronger. Show me where you spend your time and I will tell you what your priorities are. Where are you getting a ROI? If it's not your family,  should it be?

"NICE" is Not a Four Letter Word

"I thought your class was great. It would be a great compliment to my beginning yoga class because it is an all over body workout and because you are nice. Oh, I'm sorry-I hope you're not offended by that (being called nice)."

I laughed and said, "of course not." This was in March and I thought about the encounter immediately afterward and frequently since then. The naive part of me wondered why someone would think I'd be offended by being called "nice"-something I'm pretty sure used to be a compliment. The not so naive part of me knew that this gentleman must have, at least once, felt the repercussions of someone being offended by the label nice" and maybe even he, himself, had taken it as a less than complimentary adjective. The really not naive part of me can figure out precisely why this dialogue occurred...in our present society (United States, 2014) being nice has somehow become associated with being weak, with being a push over, with being gullible. Go on...I'm sure you can add a few more associations to my list. If you're nice, you're not a bad ass, you are not "in your face" and therefore it is assumed you don't stand up for your beliefs and you let people take advantage of you. You're not aggressive, you're not loud and definitely not powerful. Our society has come to value these traits, in some circles, more than being "nice"-being compassionate and treating each other with respect and love.

I have several thoughts about this way of thinking and, therefore, being, we seem to have latched onto. First, I detest false dichotomies-I think they are harmful and part of me becoming a better person has been purging dichotomous thinking from my thought patterns. "Nice" (and the characteristics I believe it entails-listed above) isn't the opposite of power. "Nice" isn't the opposite of respect or standing up for your beliefs, of not being a doormat. You can be nice AND powerful. Nice AND respected. Nice AND stand firmly for what you believe in and be nice AND have boundaries.

In my experience, I have made the most impact and felt the most empowered all while being "nice". I don't let people say offensive comments around me and I do have boundaries. In my experience, outcomes are more favorable when I address a situation calmly and respectfully and explain why a phrase or action is offensive and unacceptable. This approach has been successful, I think, because there is a "why", an explanation. Respect has been maintained so the person on the receiving end hasn't lost face and/or reacted as defensively (a very natural human reaction to perceived aggression). This allows the person to think about the actual point I made instead of focusing

on what s/he wants to say to make me feel like shit in return.

More importantly, in my experience, being "nice" is for me and my heart as much as it is for the other person. I don't like who I am when I'm not "nice"-if I can make the same point respectfully and calmly, the good part of me is protected and remains intact. The times I have allowed myself to not be so "nice"-the negative energy no only damaged the other person but also the part of me that I love and need to protect.

Like I said, I've been thinking a lot about this. The instance I described in the beginning of this post is not the first time it has been intimated (or directly stated) to me that I am weak or foolish because I am kind. In my contemplation of why this is, I've landed on a couple points I'd like to share. I think that as a result of our society's overt historic and more covert present propensity for diminishing and reviling characteristics associated with the feminine and revering and lauding traits associated with the masculine, "nice"-which in my life has manifested as empathy, respect and compassion-has been denigrated. In a society that rewards aggression, prioritizes the individual to a fault and still rests on a sexist foundation, "nice is defined as "less than". It is interesting to me because I've had this blog topic in mind since March and knew it would be the subject of my next post, even before my last post. The synchronicity of our posts amazes me again, because I think my "nice" post is related to Anne's "strength" post. How we define a word or a trait speaks volumes about our society, our priorities and what we choose to believe as individuals. Is it really more empowering to be negative, snide, rude, cutting, aggressive and loud? In my experience, it often takes more "strength" to be "nice" and the outcome is usually more favorable...so you tell me which way of being is more "powerful".

I'll end by saying I'd like us to examine which behaviors we reward-indivdually and collectively. I'd like us to examine how we define words and traits and what characteristics we attach to them. My wish for us is that we see we don't have to choose between setting boundaries, being respected, not accepting intolerance and being "nice". We can do and be both, and again, in my experience, individually and collectively, we will be better for it.

Struggling to Understand Strength

I’ve valued the notion of “strength” for as long as I can remember. I’m fairly certain that it began when I was younger, and I quickly realized that genetics had endowed me with an above-average mass of muscle for a female. This was readily apparent to me when I scored a soccer goal from more than halfway up the field when I was in elementary school. I believe I latched onto valuing “strength” at a young age because I subconsciously realized that I would almost have to as it seemed to be an inherent part of me.

I still value physical strength; I engage in a variety of physical activities as a means of maintaining various aspects of my health. Moreover, I am always proud of moments in which myself, and others, display their strength. I’m proud that my dad ran his first marathon when he was in his 60’s. I'm proud that my mom, sister Jill, and myself moved entire apartment of heavy furniture from Nashville to Des Moines (Sidenote: which is in itself a great story with many adventures). I’m proud of one of my coworkers that competes in lifting competitions. I think it’s fantastic to challenge our bodies to grow and develop and see what they can do.

However. (Of course there is a however!) I am so…frustrated….with how the word “strength” is used in terms of one’s emotional and cognitive abilities. So often, we seem to understand emotional/cognitive strength as stoicism. If you recall, my professional career is to talk with people about their grief. And I hear the same concepts about strength over, and over, again. “I thought I was a strong person, but then when Bobby Sue died...I just cried and cried and cried.” Or, here is another one. “I have to stay strong and not lose it in front of my family.” So often, strength is painted as the ability to contain and control the expression of one’s emotions.

I really wonder if there is a subconscious part of these individuals that isn’t so much lamenting their lack of strength, but rather that they have to go through the experience of grief at all.  And that they latch on to the concept of“strength” because they are trying to avoid enduring grief’s painful experience.  

Regardless of motivation, I am still frustrated with how this term is used. And this understanding of strength as physical endurance coupled with emotional stoicism is painfully pervasive in so many different scenarios. For example, we have had families begging their loved ones in our hospice care to “try and eat some food so that they can stay strong.” I do not mean to undermine the incredible anguish these families are going through, but at the same time, it just pains me to see them so infatuated with this idea of strength that they encourage someone who is actively dying to eat. I hate to break it to you, but Billie Joe is actively dying, and there is not enough food in the world to stop it.

As I emphasized in the beginning of this post, I DO value physical strength. However, my concern is that we glorify physical strength and emotional stoicism to the point of ridiculousness. Is it amazing to push our bodies? Yes, it is. Nevertheless, our bodies are ultimately finite, and there will come a point where they will no longer do what we want them to do. If we only value strength in terms of physical capabilities, how can we value bodies that start to lose their muscle mass due to the ravages of disease? And to that point, how can we value humans that have reached that level?

I am so frustrated with the one-dimensional use of the term strength, and yet I feel privileged that every day I witness actual feats of strength.  I am so amazed at the strength of a woman that lost her husband of 60 years. She is able to continue to wake up every morning and find new ways of engaging in the world after having lost one of her most significant, and longest, relationships. I value that strength. I am so amazed at the strength of a 70-year-old man that sobs in front of me as he talks about his wife that died. I value the strength that it takes to be transparent in front of a stranger; the strength it takes to bare your emotions and your soul. I am amazed at the strength of a father that talks to his children about missing their mother because of the courage it must take for him to let his kids see his vulnerabilities at a time that he is acutely aware of his own limitations.

And, I’m amazed at the strength in myself. That I am able to bear the weight of grief every day, and yet within those stories of grief, I still see the incredible beauty and hope that is forever there, growing and creating within the pain in unbelievable ways.

I return to where I started. I value strength. And I want to continue to challenge myself to find new ways of understanding it and appreciating it.  How do you understand strength? What acts of strength have amazed you?

The earth is definitely laughing today...

Happy Friday! Spring is officially in full bloom and it is going to be a gorgeous weekend! This flowering tree is right in my front yard and I couldn't resist stopping to take a picture of it. It also inspired me to compile a couple of my favorite quotes about flowers. Check them out below!

Do YOU have a favorite quote regarding flowers, spring, or blooming? Do YOU have a picture of a flower that you stopped to smell? Please share! What are your plans for this weekend? Take time from your busy schedule and literally stop to smell the roses- so often we take the most beautiful things in life for granted.

“The world laughs in flowers.” –Ralph Waldo Emerson-

 

“There came a time when the risk to remain in the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.” –Anais Nin-

 

“The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all.” –The Emperor of China from Disney’s ‘Mulan’-

“Don’t wait for someone to bring you flowers. Plant your own garden and decorate your own soul.” –Mario Quintana-

“Happiness held is the seed. Happiness shared is the flower.” –John Harrigan-

“Where flowers bloom so does hope.” –Lady Bird Johnson-

“Love is the flower you’ve got to let grow.” –John Lennon-

 

The F Word

I’ve had a couple of different topics on my mind that I have been wanting to blog about since my last post back in April- after all, it has been over a month since it was my turn to blog. All of the topics I had been mulling over are still topics that I will probably eventually blog about. However, after Jill’s most recent posting, I scratched everything I had been drafting and decided I needed to write this post instead.

After Jill’s most recent post on Elliot Rodgers (see preceding post), the Dissident Daughters had a group text going to discuss our thoughts regarding it. Of course, we all thought she made some excellent points but Jill’s concern was that she “came on too strong.” We all said something to assure her that she shouldn’t have to worry about what she chooses to write about and how she expresses herself. I offered my own words of assurance but then I also said that “I worried too...I worried about topics that I may want to write about. And I didn’t know what to think about that.”

So here I am. Thinking aloud about “that”- about which I am afraid to write about and why I am afraid to write about it. Many of the topics that I want to write (or rant) about are topics that specifically affect and concern women and women’s rights. I also want to share anecdotal stories of how I have experienced sexism, often in the workplace. However, I am fearful to REALLY express things in this blog in the same manner that I might express them if I were just talking to my sisters so I have been asking myself “why” this entire week and have finally come up with an answer, albeit an answer that only poses more questions for me. The answer is this: I am afraid that I will be labeled a feminist. Is this also what Jill was afraid of when she worried that she “came on too strong” regarding her opinion on Elliot Rodgers? And why am I afraid of being labeled with that word? Why is that word so poisonous? Of course, I don’t really know the answer. My younger sister Anne would probably have a better answer than me, but my fear of being labeled a feminist was so strong that I felt that I needed to direct readers’ attention to this article, which I absolutely love:

http://library.crossfit.com/free/pdf/CFJ_2014_03_Feminism_Darsh2.pdf.

The author, Lisbeth Darsh, basically talks about the exact same thing I am questioning: why are people so afraid of using the word “feminist?” She says that some argue that it is too “harsh” of a word while others believe it was tainted in 2004 when Rush Limbaugh started using the word “feminazi.” Additionally, some people think that equality between the sexes has largely been achieved so there is no longer a need for such a word. However, if equality has been achieved between the sexes, Darsh argues, why do we still live in a rape culture, why do we still have political discussions about the gender pay gap, and why does gendercide still occur? Darsh submits that while many females do not want to be labeled with the word “feminist”, the need for the word itself or a replacement word still exists.

In fact, the need, in my opinion, is becoming more and more crucial by the day. Darsh wrote that article well before the Elliot Rodgers killing spree, well before the latest case in Boston this past Sunday evening where a woman in the Boston area was raped by a three time convicted rapist http://www.bostonglobe.com/metro/2014/06/01/level-sex-offender-breaks-into-arlington-house-rapes-woman/hiJHhSsdzlMfOyGdxCZsoK/story.html, well before the news story on Iraq debating the marriage of men to 9 year old girls was released http://www.npr.org/blogs/parallels/2014/05/13/312160466/iraq-debates-law-that-would-allow-men-to-marry-9-year-old-girls and well before the gang rape and hangings of two teenage girls in Delhi http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/jun/03/india-gang-rape-family-threats. If I am afraid to be labeled a feminist, what other word should I be using? As Darsh points out in her article, if you go to thesaurus.com and search for a synonym, your search will be returned with “no results found.” Is it just semantics? Should I stop worrying so much about one little word? Should I just shut up? Or should I just stop being afraid and start labeling myself as such?