To the Boys of my High School

Let's talk, just you and me. All your life you've been surrounded by women: your mothers, sisters, aunts, grandmothers, teachers, neighbors, and friends. And at some point in your life, I can't really pinpoint exactly where, these women stop looking like human beings to you. They start to look like your possessions. You begin to see these women as if they were created specifically for your enjoyment, mass produced in a factory in some distant country, shipped out to your doorstep, wearing a barcode stamped across their forehead as a symbol of your authority. Naturally, you're shocked, even appalled when you find out they don't want to have sex with you. Why wouldn't they? I mean, you are the Messiah, you are the sun their world orbits, you are the sole reason these women exist, right? So, instead of asking for permission, you take what you want with no regards to how they feel. Yes, you heard me right. Women have feelings. Women are human beings too. Now don't start with  "oh, it's just some feminist yakking in my face, she doesn't matter, I can ignore her side." Well guess what pal: you are the reason feminism exists in the first place. You may think our angle is to destroy all men by poisoning them with our menstrual blood and bashing their heads in with our protest posters. You may think all we want in life is to overthrow the government and take over the planet by stabbing the hearts of men with stiletto heels. But that's not true at all. I am advocating for victims who cannot speak for themselves, whether they have been silenced by the boys who hurt them in the first place, are too terrified to speak out for fear of looking like a slut, or who are no longer in this life because the pain and shame was too much. Rape happens when victims are violated in the most intimate and personal way and they can do absolutely nothing about it. No, she was not asking for it. No, she did not deserve it because of her clothing choices. No, you weren't justified because she didn't protest. Consent is not the absence of a no, it is the presence of a yes. And you wanna know why I'm telling you all this? I'm hoping you can be the one to change it. You are the future of the next generation. By stopping the violence with you, you will prevent the suffering of other women and you will provide the light the next generation can follow. And why am I so passionate about this topic? I've never been raped, why should I care? I care because I've read far too many YA novels about rape. I care because people I know have been violated in a way I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy. I care because a freshman in college I know posted a picture of her pepper spray on Instagram as if buying one was a right of passage. I care because every day, hundreds of women, girls, children are being raped, having their genitals mutilated, and murdered because of what they wear or how they look. I care because I am human. I know you probably don't understand any of this right now, but sometime in the future, when dark thoughts creep into your mind, hopefully you'll think of this little talk we had, and you'll remember the pained expression on my face as I desperately try to convince you that having a little human decency is all it takes.    

 

This poem is about: 
Our world

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