March on "Washington"

Hi All,
It's been a while :)

There is no way to encompass in one quick blog post all of the feelings and thoughts that I have about Donald Trump. He has made a farce out of the political world, out of the American people he claims to understand, and out of journalistic integrity.

His Titles:
Bigot
Racist
Homophobe
Misogynist
President-Elect

This is our reality - not reality TV. This is a man who preoccupies himself insulting Meryl Streep on Twitter while preparing for his inauguration day. This is a man who described grabbing women "by the pussy", a man who was on trial for the sexual assault of a 13-year old girl, a man who calls women pigs and dogs, who claims "you gotta treat 'em like shit", and who has routinely harassed, abused and denigrated women.

Donald Trump's reign will usher in a Republican attack on women the likes of which we have rarely seen in North America. He will be in their bedroom, their doctor's offices, their board rooms and their schools.  

Our neighbors to the south need to see that Canadian women stand by them as they stand up to his tyranny. 2017 may very well be the year we see women everywhere acting out those training montages in sports movie where we learn to fight for our lives. It's the final countdown. The eye of the tiger.

So what can we do? How can we direct this fire in our veins so that we don't tear our hair out in helpless frustration?  Well, we can start by marching. This Sister Marches Website will direct you to the nearest march in your town. For you Saint Johners out there, we're meeting at Queen Square at 12pm on Saturday, January 21st. Give one hour of your day to prove that we are not apathetic and indifferent.

Canadian women are marching to lend our strength, passion and unity to our American neighbors. We march in solidarity against a sexist tyrant. It's a hell of a start! 

Five Marriage Lessons After Five Whole Months

Well I'm a wise married wife now, and therefore valued much more as a woman (though less valued than a mother, as I haven't yet completed my duty as a person with a vagina). Speaking of which, here are some things I've learned in these five months of marriage, as I am now clearly an expert.

1. When I decided to keep my own last name, I caused a hell of a lot of confusion. I was having a conversation with a woman and she said something like "Oh it's been a while, Rachael...who now?", I said "oh I'm still Rachael Grant", to which she gasped and immediately replied "Oh my God you didn't get married?!" Yes, this allowed me to show off my engagement ring and wedding band, but still. This is 2016! Unless I change my name to Princess Consuela Banana Hammock, there is no need to act shocked. 

2. My uterus became a topic of conversation as soon as we got home from our honeymoon (Scotland, it was incredible). Did we conceive in Europe? Not answering that. Are we trying now? Not answering that either. Are we trying in a year? *silence*. How many kids do we want? *this is me not answering*. Here's a scary truth: you can actually have a child out of wedlock. You can also decide not to have a child after you're married. You can conceive on the first try or try for years. You can have miscarriages. The whole process of having or not having children can be emotional, painful, difficult and overall (and most importantly) personal. I understand that in the eyes of a laced-up society I have now been given permission to conceive, but that doesn't mean I'm comfortable having the subject constantly discussed. Do I seem shy? If I want to talk baby-making, I will.

3. My husband (woo) and I became really good at throwing dinner parties. Not sure if this is because we're married or because we bought a house or because I definitively gave up on trying to help with the cooking, but we've got a nice flow on. This point is a bit less informative and slightly more braggy. Sorry (not sorry).  But I always felt like we weren't quite hitting the mark and now we are totally on point. 

4. This has been a really hard lesson to learn, and I'm embarrassed about how long it took me to realize this, but I think it's important to pass this message on. Ladies for the love of God dry-clean your wedding dress ASAP. Don't wait, don't dawdle. The longer you wait, the more...pungent...the situation becomes. 

Raya in the Dominican enjoying a coconut <3

5. The most extraordinary thing about being married is that there is very little difference between five months before and five months after. We were very happy before we got married despite the stress of planning said wedding. Now we're very happy today, and I think only some of it has to do with our new puppy (she is incredibly cute). We may only be married for 5 months but we've been together for over six years, and we've spent that time learning how to not murder each other, and that's been a real value-add. 

I can live with the baby questions, the last-name shock and the smelly wedding dress. I can deal with cleaning up after a dinner party. What I wouldn't be able to handle, though, would be thinking that marriage would change us, solve our problems or somehow act as a miracle cure. Our issues are still ours, our love is still very present, and we continue to communicate as we always have - with passive-aggressive comments and petty low-blows. Kidding. It's actually probably with noodles and Simpsons quotes (far more effective). You don't need to understand us! We just have to understand each other :) 

Two Words: Homeless Youth

I want to take some time to discuss those two words in my title, and I'm going to start out with

YOUTH.

I, like a regular kid, had a tough time growing up. Teen years are confusing! All through high school I dealt with the issues of boys, self-esteem and a mother and father who just didn't understand. I think there was a period of time there where my parents were legitimately concerned that I was possessed. I have a feeling when they said "And who do you think you are?" they half expected me to answer with my demon name. Well, an exorcism never happened (that I can recall), and I made it out alive. In grade 11 we had a pretty big blowout about whether or not I could go to prom party, and in grade 12 I had bronchitis and missed a few weeks of school. I was the lead in the musical (humble brag) and taking a lot of AP courses, but luckily my director put in extra practices with me and my Chemistry teacher helped me study. I definitely had some tough times but those years shaped who I am today.

Now let's tackle that second word, 

HOMELESS.

I have no experience with homelessness. It is not a word that ever coincided with my childhood, with the exception of when I ran away to the Commons and lived at the rink house for about 5 hours. It's a really funny story now, and we laugh about it at family parties or when my parents think back to when my undeniable sass truly began. That's right, the closest my life has ever gotten to the atrocity that is homelessness is a cute joke. When you read about my years as a youth with the lens of homelessness, it's almost disgusting. I was worried about prom party when there are kids worrying about where to sleep. I had a teacher give me extra time to study when there are students who don't get to class because they have more important things to worry about, like when this round of couch-surfing will end, where they'll eat, if their mother or father have reappeared after weeks of absence. Honestly I can only imagine. I really do mean that. I can only imagine, because I was lucky enough to have spent my time worrying about my best friend making out with my crush and my parents enforcing an earlier curfew than my crew. My problems were so silly, and they are the only kind of problems that kids deserve to experience. I don't want to minimize my own, and all teens' experiences because they're certainly authentic while you're feeling them. But when I compare my in-hindsight-idyllic memories with those of a homeless youth in Saint John...there is such a sadness.

 

________________________________

And now, Safe Harbour, the Saint John transitional home for homeless youth, is closing its doors due to lack of funding, not even a year after opening. I've heard some grumblings about poor planning or unsustainable whatever, but you tell me what should have happened after gathering information telling us that at least 70 youths in Saint John are homeless. We have organizations with deep coffers claiming to support education and yet do not see the value in providing homing to teenagers. Each body in the beds of Safe Harbour is enrolled in some type of schooling, be it a GED program or a more traditional path. We have well-supported organizations that provide beds for teens IF they're pregnant or young mothers, or running from abuse. We have shelters for grown adults who need a warm place to stay, because it's the right thing to do. And we have Safe Harbour shutting down despite maintaining almost 100% capacity from two weeks after opening until this upcoming closing.


I'm not privy to the inner-workings of Rothesay and Saint John politics, but I'm still going to ignorantly comment on the situation. Rothesay, you damn fools. We spent, what, a cool million putting medians in on Hampton Road that pretty much everyone hates? We spent 2.5 million on a makeover for the rink where I ran away for five hours. Maybe it's just ridiculous to suggest that our pretty medians and our fancy rink are less important than putting roofs over the heads of homeless youth. But maybe, just maybe we could have built a two million dollar rink and just given Safe Harbour that little point five. Maybe when Rothesay Netherwood students hosted their annual fundraiser each year trying to get Rothesay more involved, people could have answered students' phone calls and pledged donations. Like I said, I am not privy to how this all goes down. All I think, all I know, is that Safe Harbour's doors should not be closing. We are failing our community, we are failing our youth, we are failing ourselves if we think it's enough to say "Oh no, what a pity", and carry on. Because there is a group of teens out there who are saying "Oh no, where will I be sleeping?", and we, as a community, have the ability to answer that question with "Safe Harbour" if we just pull together and find a way to make this happen.

To learn more about Safe Harbour, please check out this link: Safe Harbour SJ 

There's a link to donate at the bottom of the page. You know what to do.

Gettin' Wiggy With It

You wanna know how to start a blog post? Pose a question.

LOL see what I did there? AND THERE?!

Okay but fo serious, I went to a party about a month or so ago and had an absolute blast. Let me paint you a picture: A group of female human beings, sitting around on the floor consuming sangria and other various assortments of alcohol. Great music, good butt pillows (essential for floor-sitting), delicious pot luck food, and WIGS.

Back in university this wouldn't have been a shock at all, but it's so much fun, so refreshing, to have a silly and wild themed party now that my days at Memorial are over. And these wigs were awesome. We had pinks, blues, greens, purples. We had long 'dos, sassy bobs, curls and pin straight locks. You would think that this would have been the highlight of the night, but it wasn't.

When you're a guest of Kristin's, you smile with the shark. Period.

 My highlight was the amazing camaraderie I felt with this smattering of women, many of whom I'd never met. Women are taught both overtly and insidiously to hate other women. We are taught to compete, to measure ourselves not against our past or our future selves, but against other women. We are told that our success is subjective and subject to comparison at all times. It is not enough to be just one thing. We must be all things, but only in moderation. Any explosive display of talent, passion or intelligence must be tamped down. We must never forget that a large portion of our personal wealth is made up not of integrity, wisdom, and accomplishments but in a patriarchal construct of beauty and feminine ideal.

But that constant weight was not felt on this evening. Women I'd never met complimented me not on my wig (which was fabulous) but on my sense of humour. I swear I had the biggest smile. Another woman there was a fellow classically trained singer and after showing off some impressive chops, encountered nothing but happiness from her audience. Our hostess made a ridiculously delicious pulled pork and we raved. One girl simultaneously showed me her tattoos, baby niece, and love of Christmas, to my delight.

We talked about our education, careers and goals. We discussed travel, politics and family. Petty gossip was checked at the door. Girl hate had no place in this circle. It was pretty amazing. Unlike the costume parties of university and the dances in high school, there was no judgement.

I think I'm writing this post because we see a lot of negative media about young women. Articles depicting narcissism in the extreme, girls so shallow if they were a puddle they couldn't drown a newborn, women so self-absorbed they speak only in terms of makeup, hair and fashion. You know what? Maybe there are bunches of women like that out there. But I haven't encountered many. I see and meet and speak with women who have intense aspirations, who have dynamic personalities, who have insecurities stemming from culture and fear, who have intelligence based on education and experience.

...OR NOT.

We have dimensions. We have curved edges and sharp points. Parts of us shine bright while other parts are faded or torn. We are not perfect, but we are not boring. We are more than our Instagram, Facebook and Twitter. We exist in the real.


Wig Night was the kind of experience I wish for all women. Not the food and wine and synthetic hair (though that was great fun) but for that sense that we can move beyond the box of cultural expectations to enjoy and celebrate one another.

One could say that I was...wigging out. I hope to keep that wigged-out feeling the next time I find myself being sucked into negativity, self-doubt and girl hate. I'll walk around like I've got rainbow hair and a smile that won't quit.

Feminist Bride

Since getting engaged in the summer of 2014, I've been positively humbled by the amount of love that has been expressed for my fiancé and I. From squeals of delight over my ring (it's a great ring) and bridal showers to beautiful messages of happiness and promises to travel from all over the world for the big day. These sentiments have been the definite majority.

A sizeable minority, however, seem to have slipped into some archaic, revolting, baseless stereotypes.

 
 
Here's some crap I've heard:
"How'd you trick him into proposing?"
"So when are you due?"
"Are you going to try to lose weight for the wedding?"
"Better start training to be a wife"

And here are some of the lovely comments my fiancé has gotten:
"There's still time to run!"
"How'd she manage to pull that off?"
"Getting a ball and chain now eh?"
"Your life is over"
"Hope she can cook!"

Some of those were made in jest, and I've been told (just love being "told" how to act) to excuse that kind of behaviour. You know what? Those jokes aren't funny. I have a right to be appalled by those jokes. I have a right to be disgusted by people diminishing the very real, solid commitment my partner and I will be making to one another.

My partner proposed to me. It was beautiful and perfect and wonderful (and all sorts of other lovely adjectives) but it was not forced. He loves me, so he asked me to marry him. Why would anyone ever call that into question? We are equals in this relationship. We both made an intellectual, rational and emotional decision to spend our lives together. You can take those stupid and, frankly, mundane jokes and go to hell.

I deserve better. So do the other brilliant brides you encounter.

Also, he's the cook!

_________________________________________________________________________________

Commonly mistaken for a bridezilla, this is actually a mother-of-the-bride-asaurus

I wrote the above before I got married but never got around to posting it. As I'm sure you can tell I was full of piss and vinegar. I was just raging that while I was about to celebrate a pretty important day, such hateful, ignorant comments were intruding my bubble of happiness.

I'm on the other side of the wedding now, and reflecting back on the words that I wrote, I think I'M A DAMN GENIUS. I stand by it all. I love that fiery, intense part of my soul that bursts out onto the page. I embrace that part of myself because from it I find passion, determination and a backbone made of Valyrian steel (shout out to my fellow GOT fans).

....what?

ps: Winter is Coming

Advice for 15 year old Rachael, from 25 year old Rachael

      

Ten years' difference here
(left = now, right = then)
(hard to tell)

Sometimes people talk about how they “came into their own” in high school or university or grad school or their thirties or twenties or whatever. When people talk about me, it’s more about acknowledging that I’ve been the me that I am since I exited the womb. And it’s mostly true. I have, however, learned a few valuable lessons about life and about myself along the way that I sometimes wish I could tell my teenage me I started keeping a list of some pro-tips for my youthful self. Here they are: 

Advice for my high school self:

1. Acne – that shit is not temporary. I am now 25, still fighting the good fight. So try to find a solution a little earlier in life (Nivea cream works great for you/us).
2. The era of leggings is fast approaching; you only have to put up with jeans for a couple more years.
3. Your blonde hair is gorgeous, do not dye it dark brown. You don’t know this, but when you’re 17 you melt half of it off. Wasn’t a great move.
4. About boys – just keep doing what you’re doing. When you’re older you’ll realize you did everything for you and not them, and you will LOVE that about yourself.
5. Those other girls in your school? Turns out they are not bitches. Turns out girls aren’t all “bitches” the second we disagree with them. So weird.
6. Rachel McAdams was right – “fetch” really doesn’t ever become a thing.
7. Only one friend is ever going to call you Ray, so stop trying to make that happen.
8. Some of your teachers really are idiots, and that’s okay. You know who the good ones are.
9. High school actually DOES matter – don’t believe those people who said it doesn’t. Your current boss went to high school with you.
10. Are you ready for this? It’s going to blow you away: You’re not fat.
11. You are going to start identifying as a feminist very soon, congratulations. This makes you awesome.
12. You are going to meet three best friends in university. They are crazy. They are insane. They are wild. You LOVE them. They love you.
13. You’re engaged (holy shit right? Totally didn’t see this coming).
14. Don’t wait until fourth year university to buy a straightener. Good lord, what were you waiting for?
    
15. Your brothers are still buffoons (so are you).
16. You 100% cannot live without music, without singing. It’s okay boo. You gotta do you.
17. Elope! Just kidding...I think.
18. A lot of people belittle the emotions of teenage girls, but don’t ever diminish your own feelings.
19. That being said, whatever you’re worried about right now, I can promise you it’s going to be okay. We are doing just fine.
20. When people tell you it’s too soon to get a dog, ignore them. Our dog is the best decision we ever made.
21. That guy you’re currently hopelessly in love with? You get over it eventually. He ain’t the one.
22. Mom and Dad knew about all the parties. They are cooler than you give them credit for.
23. No one can take away your education, your professional successes, or your experiences. These are incorruptible, and when you start to tie your confidence to these instead of silly and subjective things like looks and likeability, you find out what genuine confidence really is. Then it, too, becomes incorruptible. 

Now I have to read over this advice, and wonder what my 35 year old self would be telling me right now. What am I stressing unnecessarily about? What insecurities am I toiling over that are 90% fictional? What am I going to carry with me? What’s going to matter in ten years? Are jeans making a comeback? Questions for another day.

Feminist Astrology

A Feminist Astrology 

Aries: You have the ability to move past the stereotypes placed on your gender to become someone unrestrained by expectations.

Taurus: Because there are moons and suns and stars, you exist. Therefore, strive to exist in a world you can actually live with. Can you live with a culture where women are synonymous with the lesser? No? Then change.

Gemini: You are a gem. It's in your name. Shine like one. Don't let the smut of prejudice, sexism, racism, ever tarnish your glow. You have the strength to be the brightness.

Cancer: Don't let yourself be a cancer to society. Stand up when you see something horrible happening. But first, foster the ability to determine what those horrible happenings are. Understand that cat-calling, harassment, unwanted touching, are horrible. First understand, then act for change.

Leo: You are a lion. You are powerful. You have the privilege of being king of the jungle. Understand that this is also a responsibility. Care for the creatures around you with grace and poise.

Virgo: Although you are associated with the Virgin, there is nothing wrong with a person experiencing their sexuality, regardless of gender. The Virgo's key phrase is "I serve". Serve not another person but your own goals. Serve society. 

Libra: When the scales of humanity are equal, when women and men have the same rights and opportunities, when justice is achieved, your work will be done. So get to work. 

Scorpio: Use your strength for the good of our poisoned culture. You are a creature of nature - use that nature to be the force for change.

Sagittarius: You are honest, so be honest with yourself. Are you satisfied with gender inequality? Are you content with the status quo of harassment and shame? Of course not. Be part of the change!

Capricorn: You have grit. You have that immeasurable quality that is part motivation, part determination, part sheer force of will. Harness that quality and aim it at the patriarchal system.

Aquarius: Water is incredible. It forges a path regardless of obstacles. It crumbles mountains and seeps into the earth and smashes through walls. Be water. Persevere. Conquer the obstacle of conforming to a predetermined mold of your gender. Smash through those walls.

Pisces: The salmon battles upstream for hundreds of miles to reach their destination. It is trying, difficult, and exhausting. Such is the battle that the Pisces faces when confronting sexism, hatred and ignorance. The salmon succeeds. So will you.

Top 5 Reasons Why Women Fake Orgasms

I've been pondering something for the past little while. It's been on my mind ever since I had a conversation with a friend of mine who casually mentioned faking an orgasm during sex, and it got me wondering why on earth women do that. So I asked a few more friends, and I ended up finding out that a surprising amount of my friends have done it before, or are still doing it. Faking an orgasm. And not just with one night stands. With long-term boyfriends. With husbands. And yes, with ye olde singular evening bang. From these (disturbing) conversations, I created a list of the top reasons why women pretend to climax instead of waiting for the real deal. Obviously this is a very scientific approach, so please feel free to comment on my wide scope, impeccable research and controlled environment.

Top 5 Reasons Why Women Fake Orgasms

1. To satisfy...his ego.

I actually almost understand this. Until I don't. You're pretending to make him feel better? What feels better than an ORGASM? The answer, my friends, is nothing. When did your climaxing become less important, less vital, less the key to having sex, than ensuring that your man (of the hour, month, year) doesn't feel like less of a man because he couldn't get you there? His feelings should not eclipse your...feelings...if you know what I mean.

2. To get it over with.

You're laying there (or maybe you're not just laying there heh), he's close and you realize it's just not going to happen for you. So you fake it knowing that he's waiting for that cue. He gets his, you don't get yours and the sexventures come to a close. I've got to ask some questions here.

a) Did you want to have sex or were you pressured into it (by guilt, coercion, a feeling of responsibility maybe)?
b) Did you still enjoy the sexy times?
c) Are you lying to yourself? Could you have gotten there if he slowed down a bit and focused on you?

If you answered yes to the first question, that's not exactly behaviour you want to encourage. No one but you should decide when you have sex. If you want it, chances are you'll be more likely to have the big O.
If you answered yes to the second question, then who cares? You can still enjoy a bang without the big finale and letting your partner know that is fine. Maybe he'll be a gentleman (lol) and offer to get you there without his disco stick.
If you answered yes to the third question, then you're denying yourself an orgasm and that is a sin. Hold out! Let him know what you need! Make him work a little! Your orgasm is just as important as his. I can pretty much guarantee he'll get there no matter what, so if you need a few specifics, don't be afraid to ask.

3. Because I faked it once and now he expects me to cum every time.

Ah yes. So you did it once, maybe for reasons #1 or #2, and now he thinks he's a sex god. He's convinced that you can orgasm 5 minutes into sex because he did it once, and then it becomes an expectation. You'd be breaking the habit and shattering his illusions if you stopped one day.
BREAK THIS HABIT. Break it now. You're doing yourself and your fella (or lady) a disservice. Honesty is always the best policy, and this is never truer than when it comes to sex. I don't care how you do it. Ease into it. Tell him. Just stop. Whatever floats your boat. You owe it to yourself! How would you feel if you found out your partner was faking?

4. I want him to think I'm sexual.

Hopefully you having sex is enough proof that you're sexual. Because of, you know, the sex. Sexuality isn't defined by you faking an orgasm! Find some new parameters ladybird. Parameters I could suggest might include: lubrication, extended foreplay, sexcellent communication (see what I did there?), initiating, masturbating, and generally loving your half of the sexual equation. The definition of sexuality doesn't fit in a box (heh). But faking an orgasm isn't about your sexuality, it's about his. Focus on YOU. Get yours!

5. Because society has unconsciously conditioned me to believe that my vagina exists to provide a service for men and not an orgasm for myself.

It's not so! Because science! And by science I do mean the clitoris, which exists for no other reason except to give you the warmest of warm tinglies. No other organ on women OR men can claim that they exist for this sole purpose. Far out dude.

If that organ isn't the biggest "permission to orgasm" button nature has ever seen, than I don't know what is. So...push it.

Push it real good.

The Woman Haters Club

I am over women hating women. It sickens me and I'm tired of questioning what causes that kind of unnecessary, cruel and inexcusable behaviour. The ironic part is that this blog post can probably be interpreted as doing just that, but I'm not going to read too much into that yet because I'm not in the mood to be introspective...

I was on a feminist subreddit a couple weeks ago and there was a post from a woman who said she was a bit overweight, shopping in a makeup store and she could overhear two skinny beautiful women talking shit about her. The poster was looking for some support from her fellow redditors. Now I feel for this girl, I really do. That is honestly a shit situation and I hope no one can imagine a time when that kind of behaviour is appropriate. But here's the kicker. All these women replied to this poster and instead of talking about how beauty is an internal glow or whatever Marilyn Munroe quote typically gets puked out during moments like these, they started freaking out at these other two women. They said these other women are probably married to men who cheat on them. They're probably anorexic. They probably have no souls and will be unhappy forever. They probably sleep with anyone who looks at them. They probably secretly hate each other. They probably hate themselves too.

And on it went.

Are you kidding me?! Do you not see the complete hypocrisy of your statements? You are criticizing these women by doing EXACTLY WHAT THEY WERE DOING. Why don't you take a frigging beat and think about how society has driven women to feel unnecessarily competitive with one another to the point where they'll call out total strangers. Why don't you consider what is happening within yourself, making you feed that monster?


Don't get into the habit of sitting on a pedestal perceiving yourself as the only woman on earth who is allowed to criticize others. "Slut" is not a word to dole out when a woman you know slept with someone. "Bitch" is not an appropriate label for a woman who acts in a way you do not approve of. "Psycho" is not a title you should attach to a woman expressing her emotions. Honestly, and this is not a rhetorical question, what gives you the right? I hate to go bible on your asses, but let he who is without sin cast the first stone. Unless you are a virgin robot, something you have done in your life could make you seem like a slutty psycho bitch yourself so you might want to check yourself before you go and hypocritically wreck yourself.


I saw this photo on Facebook the other day. I also saw it shared and liked by women who coincide posts like these with comments and posts bringing down other women, and i think it's because they feel entitled. They've created a reality where they are untouchable and their moral compass is the only one that points north. This in turn creates a situation where everyone else can be judged because they don't measure up. I just want to shed some light on the fact that they are contradicting themselves every time they post something about "the haters" while simultaneously being hateful.




It's been said again and again, but you don't raise your own status by bringing other women down. There's nothing to be gained from it. If you feel some sort of satisfaction from tearing into someone else take a good hard look at yourself. What is wrong with you? Again, not rhetorical. What is actually wrong? Are you unhappy? Are you jealous? Are you bored? Because that kind of behaviour isn't stemming from the actions of another person. It's coming from you.

Dropping some knowledge

 

And now, I will acknowledge the irony here. It seems like I'm woman-hating. But I'm trying to come from a good place. I'm trying to spark an internal dialogue so that the next time you're about to utter the word "bitch" you take a moment and really consider if that's okay. Don't get me wrong, it's advice I have to give myself often as well. But I do. And all I'm asking is that you do as well.

 

Merry Christmas ya filthy animals

 

Jian Ghomeshi: Rowdy or Rapist?

Here are the facts:








TA DA! THERE ARE NONE.

We have CBC firing one of its most prominent faces and allegations of sexual assault from four anonymous women. We have one man's "poor me" sympathy card facebook status and an outpouring of supportive, questioning, trolling and hateful blog posts and updates and tweets and statuses.

Instead of making some snap decisions, I'm just encouraging people to read what they read with a critical eye. Ask yourself some questions as you read through the various articles and stories written about our c-list celebrity.

Questions like:

1. Why would CBC fire someone for being kinky?
2. Why would four women fabricate a story?
3. What is your understanding of BDSM?
4. Have you read 50 Shades of Grey? (kidding)
5. Do you believe any of this is your business?

I'm not going to try to answer any of those questions for you. I'm not going to come up with reasons to support or refute Ghomeshi or these women. Unfortunately our parents were right when they said there are three sides to a story...in this case: hers, his and the truth. Are we really qualified to assume we know #3?


I do ask that you consider what you say about women fabricating tales of sexual assault. If one in 5 women in North America is sexually assaulted in their lifetime (and this is the most conservative estimate), chances are your words are being heard by a survivor who may be suffering in silence, due to the very ideas you are perpetuating if you suggest that women lie about sexual assault.

(It is statistically just as likely to be falsely reported as any other crime - which is a very low rate. But you never ask someone if a person really broke into their car or if a person really stole their identity)