There are always 6,000 things I think to write about when I'm mindlessly packing groceries or stocking tuna or slicing cheese, but once I actually sit down and try to write I come up blank. This is strange because I once was a prolific blogger...but now a certain degree of self-conciousness combined with a general exhaustion that comes from working, interning, and slaving over GRE vocab words has rendered me wordless...at least I still have my prolixity.

I do think it's important to continue writing despite myself. If my future progresses as I hope it does, writing will be a major part of it and imagining a year long lapse, particularly when I thought I was getting pretty darn good at it, is pretty terrifying.

With that said, I still don't know what exactly to write about, and while I could easily write you three pages on how medical metaphors and terminology tends to liken women's bodies to (un)productive machines and separate the body from the person, I'm not really up for it and for some reason I don't think you are either.

I doubt you're really up for reading this actually, but let me say this:

A few days ago I was working on the register in the lovely little natural food stores that has so graciously employed me on and off for the past four years and a young guy was buying a soda. He opened his backpack in order to get his wallet to pay for the soda and what fell out? AN ENTIRE BRICK OF MARIJUANA. Naturally I was pretty shocked and for a moment I thought, "Can I confiscate that?!" But instead I yelled, "HOLY SHIT!" to which he replied frantically, "I have a prescription!" and shoved the pot back in his bag. Although a lot of relatively exciting things happen at my work such as insane letters from customers about violating their privacy by asking if they want a paper or plastic bag, this was definitely the highlight.

Sometimes I think about how in middle school one of my science teachers said that pandas were not bears but instead more closely related to raccoons and I wonder how much of what I learned in middle school was just wrong, and how qualified you need to be to teach middle school in the first place. Luckily, I don't think there is too much I retained from middle school except the strong belief that no matter where you go, the popular kids suck.

If you guys have some extra time or are interested, I really suggest you read or scan through the Human Rights Watch's report on the rape kit backlog in Los Angeles. It's frustrating but it exposes how state justice systems regard cases of sexual assault--stranger assault is given immediate preference over acquaintance cases, victims are not updated on the testing status of kits leaving victims to assume their kits have been tested and revealed no results, and having rape tests analyzed in a timely matter are seen as favors dolled out by lab technicians by their chosing--and the changes that so desperately need to be made in our justice system and police departments.

I also learned from the report that in 2003 NYC completely eliminated its backlog of rape kits and now tests all kits within 30-60 days of receiving them. Also since 1999 sexual assault arrests in NYC are up by over 200%. A very hopeful beacon that efficient and critical testing can be achieved through the proper administration of federal grant money that is made available to DNA testing facilities in a otherwise pretty discouraging report.

This report comes at a time when rape is still seen in our culture as shameful and embarrassing, and the process of reporting sexual assault and convicting attackers are often degrading and painful. With just a small fraction of victims reporting their assault, it is important we start to consider the reasons why this is so, both culturally and institutionally. Victims to a large extent do not expect to see justice served in their cases and while those who report assault wait months, and in many cases, years to have rape kits analyzed, the perpetuation of silence among victims continues.

Obviously, this report or me writing about/talking about this report may make some people uncomfortable, but I believe that as a person (this is obviously not just a women's issue) who knows and loves far too many people who have been sexually assaulted, it would be unconscionable for me to not bring it to peoples' attention.

I think it is also worth mentioning that this report has caught peoples' attention and organizations are taking action. I am currently working on a project with an awesome organization, Generations Ahead, that will prove that DNA testing is helping to convict offenders. Hopefully with this research we will be able to convince justice departments of the dire for the expansion of DNA analysis and help to initiate major policy change regarding sexual assault and the analysis of rape kits.

Here's the link to the report: http://www.hrw.org/en/reports/2009/03/31/testing-justice-0

My dear friend Sophie is here right now. She stopped by on her way from Seattle to Arizona so she can do a 6 week workshop at arcosanti.
I think it's good she's here. She is very motivating when it comes to having the confidence to try something new. Still can't stop thinking about the desert...also considering the possibilities of living in upstate NY.

Feminism after college

In an effort to possibly revitalize this blog and perhaps more importantly, to force myself to continue writing, here is something that has been bothering me:

I was skimming through a feminist blog (feministe? feministing? I can't remember) a few weeks back and stopped on a post about a woman's personal experience as a feminist. Like I said, I was skimming so I didn't read her entire post but one statement she wrote really stuck out to me. She said, "It has been much more difficult to be a feminist since I graduated from college." At the time of reading this I think I was still living with my sister and so my contact was limited to her awesome feminist self, a tenacious and wild three year old baby girl, a house demolishing dog, and a 9 year old nephew who understood perfectly (but awkwardly) when I told him that PMS was never an excuse to not take a woman's opinions or feelings seriously. So of course, when I read this statement I scoffed. I couldn't imagine what could possibly change from pre-graduate life to post-graduate life that would make being a feminist seem so difficult.

Upon moving back to Oregon the statement made by my fellow feminist blogger started to become a little more understandable. At Sarah Lawrence an understanding of feminism, second wave, third wave, whatever, was, to a certain extent assumed. Of course I don't want to idealize my college experience and its undeniable that I got into countless arguments about the extent to which patriarchy is entrenched in our society, but those arguments were different than what I encounter here at home. The same comments or observations I would make at school are not understood in the same way here. They are deemed awkward and socially dangerous. While watching a TV show with a group of guys I went to high school with I made an offhand comment about how it seemed so absurd the way women were being represented in the show and the room which was previously full of laughter and jokes about the poor quality of the show went silent. Obviously, I had wandered into shaky territory and instead of saying, "seriously guys, you don't see that this is insane?!" I stopped talking and soon the laughing and jokes resumed and I felt really crummy about myself...and when I think about it I don't know if I felt more crummy because I didn't say something or because I had caused that awkward situation in the first place.

I shouldn't make Oregon out to be this horrible place though. There are feminists here and a lot of them are my friends...friends I hardly see because I'm a hermit, but friends nonetheless. I also happen to have a wonderful man in my life who excitedly referred to me as the Julia Child of menstrual activism (a gross overstatement) and helps to fill the giant hole left by my smart, funny,and feminist friends from school.

With that said though, there is still a huge difference between living in a community more or less full of feminists and living in an actual city. It's difficult and it's scary to not know how the things you say are going to be taken, particularly when you're with people who you feel safe with, who you've known forever. I felt awful when I silenced an entire room full of people I've known for 10 years, but I also didn't feel like my observation was inappropriate or awkward at all.

I suppose this will all start to become clearer as I continue treading through post-grad life. I can only imagine that a strong belief in and practice of feminist ideology will persist. When I reflect on my own relationship with my sisters or think about my niece and nephew growing up I realize how important it is to have outspoken feminists in your life and I hope that I can be one of the many people to fill that role (and more) for Spikey and FF. But I also realize that the way my own personal relationship with feminism is expressed may begin to change, and I might begin to take a different approach rather than bluntly pointing out what I think is the obvious. I'm not sure...growing as a feminists is something I look forward to though.

I miss my sisters.

Maybe I'll move to New Mexico. I need to start getting this shit figured out for real. I think the desert would suit me just fine though.