Identa stands on the rooftop, typing an SMS to a prominent male friend of hers, producing a message of support and love: "You know that you are better than the friends you surround yourself with, right? You know that you have the capacity to change the world, don't you?" She pauses. She erases the text, and puts her phone back in her robe pocket. She takes another drag of her cigarette and looks out on the lines of building just a block East of her apartment, some apartment lights lit and some not. It's 11:30 PM, and Identa is alone.
Ten minutes ago, Identa was in the presence of her roommate, Ketera - a woman of intelligence and breeding, a woman with a dedication to humanity and their plight. They were discussing the rights and wrongs of society, and their hopes of being changemakers in a world dominated by mindless, power-seeking frenzy. During their conversations, Identa had thought not only of her prominent, yet underachieving friend ... but of others.
It wasn't so much about Identa's judgment of his (or their) lack of motivation, but more about her loneliness in pursuit of her ideal. She longed for support, for male involvement in her endeavors. She longed for a man who would not only understand her zeal but have a dream of his own that he was pursuing. Instead she saw a world of disillusioned men with a simple zeal to live another day. One more day, they asked for; a unified world, she fought for.
She couldn't help but wonder: in a world of men dominating men, of dog-eat-dog, had all men walked away and given up? Was it a lost battle? Was that the secret of this bitter age - for men to step down and for women to quietly rise in their absence? Was the age of men over, and the age of matriarchy at its inception? She frantically hoped not.
For despite her ambitious zeal, and her dedication to a Utopian ideal, Identa had been raised in a patriarchal world, and longed for male companionship. She envied her peers who had converted men into husbands and caretakers. She wished to be a muse to a warrior, as opposed to a warrior in search of a muse. She wanted to steer the future as a co-pilot, as a comrade, and as a member of a team.
But life dictated otherwise. Alone she took another step along the path, looking left and right to see only her sisters, and dragging the weight of intimidated men with wagging tails. She was lonely as ever.
And she is lonely as ever. Where are the men?
Identa takes another drag of her cigarette, and steps towards the battlefield. Her mind and heart feel coarse with determination. She weeps inside.
Watch:
ReplyDeletehttp://www.ted.com/talks/hanna_rosin_new_data_on_the_rise_of_women.html
http://www.ted.com/talks/zimchallenge.html?utm_source=newsletter_weekly_2011-08-10&utm_campaign=newsletter_weekly&utm_medium=email
That second video was the BEST!
ReplyDeleteBut seriously, this is depressing. I feel like women of the past started this feminist movement with the hopes of men and women fighting this sexy struggle for power and success...and the minute men saw that women were viable competition, they stepped out of the game and quit. And now, we, the next generation of women, are stuck with the work of both.
Look at movies these days - men are always shabby and goofy, and women are neurotic, perfect, workaholics.
What makes me sick is that I can't turn back now - I can't step back and be less than I've worked to be. And when I encounter a situation where a man is caring and sweet and wanting to be romantic with me, I don't know how to handle it, and I feel like I have to step down so he can be in charge.
Take charge, men! Step up! Dominate me, I dare you! But don't ask me to pretend to be less than I am so that I can feel protected by you. Be better than me, be more than me, and rub it in my face - that's hot. But don't count yourself as chivalrous when you're telling me to slow down so you can lead.
In a word: RAWR.
I am woman, hear me roar.