*saves this for future reference*
18 / oklahoma
In a study of children aged 2-5, parents interrupted their daughters more than their sons, and fathers were more likely to talk simultaneously with their children than mothers were. Jennifer Coates says: “It seems that fathers try to control conversation more than mothers… and both parents try to control conversation more with daughters than with sons. The implicit message to girls is that they are more interruptible and that their right to speak is less than that of boys.”
Girls and boys’ differing understanding of when to talk, when to be quiet, what is polite and so on, has a visible impact on the dynamics of the classroom. Just as men dominate the floor in business meetings, academic conferences and so on, so little boys dominate in the classroom - and little girls let them."
Working with children for over a decade, this is something I’ve noticed, actually. And for the majority, the little girls in my class and my co-worker’s classes all sit quietly and listen MUCH better than the boys do. Most boys don’t care to be quiet and sit still. And I don’t think this is an attribute of boys being “rowdier” or more “hyper” - believe me, the girls are JUST as off the wall as the boys if you aren’t telling them not to. It must be a learned behavior, and it must be enforced more with the girls so they know they can’t get away with it. You have no idea how many times in my career I’ve heard “boys will be boys,” and smiling parents as they tell me with a laugh, sorry, their son is “wild” and a “handful” as they introduce him to the class.
And that’s how you do sexism. That’s how it’s so effectively trained into every single citizen and indoctrinated as normal and right.
Mhmm… Other adults used to compliment my parents on how i was such a quiet polite little girl… I had many social difficulties growing up and it was pretty hard for me to live on my own at first, to make friends and to take care of important things that had to do with interacting with strangers. I had to unlearn a lot of things which I am still trying hard to do. :/
this is something that struck me so clearly when i left women’s college to go to co-ed graduate school. i remember being in my first seminar and thinking “why do these guys think they can just talk whenever they want, who cares about their opinion” and getting so many compliments from girls in my classes about how good i was at talking in class. it’s crazy to see how instilled these communication rules are in adults
Muslim women are one of THE most under-discussed demographics in feminist circles
Why aren’t there 50k note posts talking about Muslim trans women
Or queer Muslim women
Why don’t we talk about the incessant hate crimes committed against Muslim women in the US perpetrated by white xenophobes
Why don’t we listen to these discussions. give these posts virality and circulate it into feminist communities
"- Azra.T “Praying Foxes” (via 5000letters)
'I am leaving.'
This is the hundredth time I have said this to you. You are sitting with your feet up on our sitting room table and from across the room, I can see two foxes of fear sprint across your eyes. They hold hands, they look at me raw, and disappear. ‘I’m leaving you.’ My nails are digging crescents into my palms.
‘But,’ you scrape a hand across your jaw and consider this, ‘I love you.’ This is enough. It always is. My insides unroll for you. You tender the wounds and we play chess naked and fall asleep, bodies like olive branches. The next evening, it will be the same again. I will tell you that I am going. You will soften for me. The foxes will cry at the discontent.
We are loving each other futilely. We’re playing Kiss Chase on a knife edge, I say ‘I’ve finally got you’ and hold you hard enough to break your back. You let me every time. You say ‘you’re mine’ and push me off every bridge you can find. Hold my hand at the last minute and sometimes we go over the edge together. Sometimes the water kisses us. Sometimes it turns us inside out. Either way it’s heartbreaking, either way it’s an adventure.
On the phone, my mother sighs and tells me ‘leave him.’ And I cry and hold myself and tell her that I am still trying. My father promises that he will break you into tiny little pieces and you laugh and stroke a finger down your chin and say ‘he needn’t worry. You’ve already done that.’ In the evenings I sit on your lap and you lick salt tears from my face and leave handprints on my ribcage.
We argue like acid rain. In our darkest moments we are bitter and hungry and furious. When I am cruel, I leave with no warning and do not come back for days. When you are cruel, you drink and smoke 20 a day. You threaten to fuck my friends. We fall in and out of love with each other like the tides at midnight. I want to say ‘here is the door, here is my kiss, pick one.’ I want to say that I love you but I cannot keep breaking my spine for you. Instead, I tell you that I am leaving and you tell me that you love me and we fill and empty each other again."