I do not understand this “male privilege" bullshit.
What. Fucking. Privileges. Do. Men. Have.???????
Name them. I swear, I challenge you to name these “male privileges" and be able to prove them.
Come on, I fucking dare you.
Name them!
Oh boy. Well, as a man, I’ll tell you my male privilege.
My odds of being hired for a job, when competing against female applicants, are probably skewed in my favor. The more prestigious the job, the larger the odds are skewed.
I can be confident in the fact that my co-workers won’t think that I was hired/promoted because of my sex – despite the fact that it’s probably true.
If I ever am promoted when a woman of my peers is better suited for the job, it is because of my sex.
If i ever fail at my job or career, it won’t be seen as a blacklist against my sex’s capabilities.
I am far less likely to face sexual harassment than my female peers.
If I do the same task as a woman, and if the measurement is at all subjective, chances are people will think I did a better job.
If I am a teen or an adult, and I stay out of prison, my odds of getting raped are relatively low.
On average, I’m taught that walking alone after dark by myself is less than dangerous than it is for my female peers.
If I choose not to have children, my masculinity will not be questioned.
If I do have children but I do not provide primary care for them, my masculinity will not be questioned.
If I have children and I do care for them, I’ll be praised even if my care is only marginally competent.
If I have children and a career, no one will think I’m selfish for not staying at home.
If I seek political office, my relationship with my children or who I deem to take care of them will more often not be scrutinized by the press.
My elected representatives are mostly people of my own sex. The more prestigious the position, the more this is true.
When i seek out “the person in charge", it is likely that they will be someone of my own sex. The higher the position, the more often this is true.
As a child, chances are I am encouraged to be more active and outgoing than my sisters.
As a child, I could choose from an almost infinite variety of children’s media featuring positive, active, non-stereotyped heroes of my own sex. I never had to look for it; male protagonists were (and are) the default.
As a child, chances are I got more teacher attention than girls who raised their hands just as often.
If my day, week or year is going badly, I need not ask of each negative episode or situation whether or not it has sexist overtones. (Nobody’s going to ask if I’m upset because I’m menstruating.)
I can turn on the television or glance at the front page of the newspaper and see people of my own sex widely represented.
If I’m careless with my financial affairs it won’t be attributed to my sex.
If I’m careless with my driving it won’t be attributed to my sex.
I can speak in public to a large group without putting my sex on trial.
Even if I sleep with a lot of women, there is little to no chance that I will be seriously labeled a “slut,” nor is there any male counterpart to “slut-bashing.”
I do not have to worry about the message my wardrobe sends about my sexual availability.
My clothing is typically less expensive and better-constructed than women’s clothing for the same social status. While I have fewer options, my clothes will probably fit better than a woman’s without tailoring.
The grooming regimen expected of me is relatively cheap and consumes little time.
If I buy a new car, chances are I’ll be offered a better price than a woman buying the same car. The same goes for other expensive merchandise.
If I’m not conventionally attractive, the disadvantages are relatively small and easy to ignore.
I can be loud with no fear of being called a shrew. I can be aggressive with no fear of being called a bitch.
I can ask for legal protection from violence that happens mostly to men without being seen as a selfish special interest, since that kind of violence is called “crime” and is a general social concern. (Violence that happens mostly to women is usually called “domestic violence” or “acquaintance rape,” and is seen as a special interest issue.)
I can be confident that the ordinary language of day-to-day existence will always include my sex. “All men are created equal,” mailman, chairman, freshman, he.
My ability to make important decisions and my capability in general will never be questioned depending on what time of the month it is.
I will never be expected to change my name upon marriage or questioned if I don’t change my name.
The decision to hire me will not be based on assumptions about whether or not I might choose to have a family sometime soon.
Every major religion in the world is led primarily by people of my own sex. Even God, in most major religions, is pictured as male.
Most major religions argue that I should be the head of my household, while my wife and children should be subservient to me.
If I have a wife or live-in girlfriend, chances are we’ll divide up household chores so that she does most of the labor, and in particular the most repetitive and unrewarding tasks.
If I have children with my girlfriend or wife, I can expect her to do most of the basic childcare such as changing diapers and feeding.
If I have children with my wife or girlfriend, and it turns out that one of us needs to make career sacrifices to raise the kids, chances are we’ll both assume the career sacrificed should be hers.
Assuming I am heterosexual, magazines, billboards, television, movies, pornography, and virtually all of media is filled with images of scantily-clad women intended to appeal to me sexually. Such images of men exist, but are rarer.
In general, I am under much less pressure to be thin than my female counterparts are. If I am over-weight, I probably suffer fewer social and economic consequences for being fat than over-weight women do.
If I am heterosexual, it’s incredibly unlikely that I’ll ever be beaten up by a spouse or lover.
Complete strangers generally do not walk up to me on the street and tell me to “smile.”
Sexual harassment on the street virtually never happens to me. I do not need to plot my movements through public space in order to avoid being sexually harassed, or to mitigate sexual harassment.
On average, I am not interrupted by women as often as women are interrupted by men.
On average, I will have the privilege of not knowing about my male privilege.
And lastly, I am taken as a more credible feminist than my female peers, despite the fact that the feminist movement is not liberating to my sex.
I’m a slut for sitting in comfortable silence while both of us do our own thing and occasionally show each other something dumb on our computers like that’s the good shit my dude.
“Oh yeah, every time that dad forgets mom is dead, we head to the cemetery so he can see her gravestone.”
WHAT. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard some version of this awful story. Stop taking people with dementia to the cemetery. Seriously. I cringe every single time someone tells me about their “plan” to remind a loved one that their loved one is dead.
I also hear this a lot: “I keep reminding mom that her sister is dead, and sometimes she recalls it once I’ve said it.” That’s still not a good thing. Why are we trying to force people to remember that their loved ones have passed away?
If your loved one with dementia has lost track of their timeline, and forgotten that a loved one is dead, don’t remind them. What’s the point of reintroducing that kind of pain? Here’s the thing: they will forget again, and they will ask again. You’re never, ever, ever, going to “convince” them of something permanently.
Instead, do this:
“Dad, where do you think mom is?”
When he tells you the answer, repeat that answer to him and assert that it sounds correct. For example, if he says, “I think mom is at work,” say, “Yes, that sounds right, I think she must be at work.” If he says, “I think she passed away,” say, “Yes, she passed away.”
People like the answer that they gave you. Also, it takes you off the hook to “come up with something” that satisfies them. Then, twenty minutes later, when they ask where mom is, repeat what they originally told you.
I support this sentiment. Repeatedly reminding someone with faulty memory that a loved one has died isn’t a kindness, it’s a cruelty. They have to relieve the loss every time, even if they don’t remember the grief 15 minutes later.
In other words, don’t try to impose your timeline on them in order to make yourself feel better. Correcting an afflicted dementia patient will not cure them. They won’t magically return to your ‘real world’. No matter how much you might want them to.
It’s a kindness of old age, forgetting. Life can be very painful. Don’t be the one ripping off the bandage every single time.
Today is the Transgender Day of Remembrance. Honor those killed in anti-trans acts of violence; mourn the lights in our community that have gone out; say their names and tell their stories; and vow to fight for those still with us.
I love the clothes from Volante Design (“Superhuman Streetwear”); their latest is the “Starfleet 2364” line of men’s and women’s jackets inspired by Star Trek: The Next Generation uniforms.
The jackets are made of heavy denim and are basically extremely well-styled/tailored biker jackets (like Volante’s excellent Hacker
jackets), partially or fully unzipping them and folding down their
lapels takes them from “cosplay” to “cosplay adjacent” in an instant.
They’ve got loads of interior and exterior pockets, and are
double-stitched and come in “Command Red, Operations Gold, or Sciences
Blue,” sized 37 – 51, 55 (men), and 33 – 45 (women). They’re made in
Chicago, retail for $315, and will ship by December 14th.
Beltainefaerie's Flights of Fancy 