Whether we are urged to be civil to racists or polite to patriarchy, the goal is the same: to maintain the power of the racist, to maintain the power of patriarchy. #WhyISayFuck
Profanity is an essential tool in disrupting patriarchy and its rules. It is the verbal equivalent of civil disobedience.
There is nothing polite about patriarchy. There is nothing civil about racism or misogyny.
An international group of death studies practitioners and scholars from several countries and disciplines--has coined the concept #GriefLiteracy, which means “the capacity to access, process, and use knowledge regarding the experience of loss.”
Loss, as they explain, does not only occur in response to death; any loss can cause us to grieve.
Day One of #ThisIs55: I was born July 28, a Friday=the weekend in Egypt. When registry office opened, my parents decided to register me as Aug 1 birth—start of the month, people would’ve just got paid=good gifts for Mona! So I celebrate all 5 days! 📷 my niece
55 years later and I still have the cheeks. And guess what Baby Mona was saying with her little fist raised?*
*Hint: what she says at the start and end of her events with her bigger fist raised!
The best gifts are free! Best way to wish me a Happy Birthday: subscribe for free to FEMINIST GIANT feministgiant.com
I don't remember who I used to be and I don't know what I am becoming.
I've been thinking this more and more as I approach my birthday (v soon and I'll post pictures for all five days as I usually do!) and also in the way I think about my menopause transition and pandemic life.
As I move through both pandemic and perimenopause: how do I want to emerge? Transformation is hard.
How do I want to stand in this in-between, this forever now, in such a way that honours how scared I am but also how alive I am to the potential that is born from emerging?
I refuse to emerge as if unscathed.
I insist that we all be scathed, that we refuse to be the people we were at the start of the pandemic. I know I am not. But what am I becoming?