Why I Don't Like Feminists
**The women mentioned in this article have been renamed for purposes of privacy and discretion.**
“I’m protesting the NFL this year.”
Play practice suddenly got very quiet. It wasn’t common to
hear a black woman standing up for her rights in the Deep South of America.
This was Baton Rouge, after all. Moments ago we were all swapping stories,
mostly white women, about where to find cheap but good clothes at various
different thrift stores.
This one Goodwill, on
College? It’s like a boutique. It’s fancy; it doesn’t look like a Goodwill at
all. Isn’t that just amazing?
She looked around after having dropped her wisdom like she’d
dropped a grenade. LeAndre’s eyes were huge. Evidently, the women around her (including our very feminist director, who will remain nameless in this instance because I actually have the utmost respect for her) weren't ready for it. The second the words fell out of her mouth, I started to pipe up
in agreement, but found that my fellow actresses had nothing to say. So my
initial “I don’t blame you,” turned into a mumbled, incoherent phrase, and wasn’t
that just a shame?
Ladies and gentleman, I present to you: Baton Rouge.
Baton Rouge, at best, is a small city that's profited much from the horrendous practice of gentrification. That's my own personal opinion - take it or leave it - but it's something that white people out here are certainly very excited about. They love that their downtown area is now "clean" and "pretty" and "safe." They like that they can stroll around the streets and name them all after the famous streets of New Orleans, pretending that they are the same. New Orleans is not immune, either. Just two days ago, I received a notification that one of my favorite restaurants out there, a hole-in-the-wall po-boy shop, is being offered $5 million dollars to sell because a Starbucks has opened up across the street. Now I can see how this may sound like a great opportunity for the less-than-wealthy people that own this place, but what saddens me and probably hits them hardest is that this place has been around for years and it's full of history. I really hope they don't sell, despite the "prettying up" of the surrounding area because I'd hate to see it go. I mean, who knows? If it moves to a different location, will the food taste the same? Will it still be that same old po-boy shop that you can find while drunk, walking past the quarter, with a hankering for a delicious cheese and sausage po-boy? I don't know, and that thought really does upset me. I lived in New Orleans for four years and one of my favorite things about it was that even in the shadiest (or as white people like to refer to it all - "hood") areas, you'd find amazing food and wonderful people. Sure, there's violence and racial tension and all kinds of other things that could certainly make you uncomfortable, especially as a young white woman! However, if you look closely, all the natives of New Orleans want you to understand is that they've got plenty of Southern Hospitality themselves, and they are ready and willing to dole it out to you as well as the next privileged white woman. All they really ask in return is that you treat them with the respect and dignity - and comprehension - that they deserve.
I realize I'm treading on faulty ground to you all here, but it's something that must be said. Feminists don't necessarily have anything against gentrification because it only stands to profit them. It hurts people of color, though, and strips them of their long, hard-fought for history that they hold very dear. I know New Orleans and Baton Rouge have profited as a city, in general, from all of these renovations since Hurricane Katrina, but both cities have certainly lost a bit of their soul, and that makes me and many other locals very sad. Baton Rouge, for instance, is now a swarm of hipster men and women sporting their oversized flannels and ridiculously long beards, hanging out at Radio Bar, drinking expensive, ridiculous beer, and complaining about how "poor" they are. I know because I've been there many times. It's a huge crowd of practically all the same people. And don't even get me started on the women and how they're all ridiculously beautiful with their wide eyes and skinny frames and gorgeous hair, and they settle for a bear of man simply because he's a plant worker or a singer that's also a bartender on the side. Just last night, I was at Brickyard, and I was talking to a beautiful woman about all the stuff she's put up with from an ex and how he has made up for it all and she's taken him back. Imagine my surprise when I see this man pull up in his ridiculously suped-up truck looking like a damn lumberjack that forgot how to chop wood. He was overweight, ugly in the face, his beard was ridiculously long, and his hair clearly hadn't been washed in at least three days.
Look, ladies, I get it. You want security, and you want to be kept safe. But this is just beyond me! I mean, I don't even understand how the mechanics of it would work in bed, much less in life. Do you want to be taking care of an overstuffed ass at the ripe age of fifty-five, or do you want to be continuing to live your best life with a beautiful, active partner of your choice by your side? I could stand on this soapbox and argue about this point all day, but it never ceases to amaze me the type of men that Southern women will put up with simply because they feel like they have no other choice. I don't care how "in love" you think you are - you're lying to yourself and you're settling. And that, Dear Reader, is something that I will personally never do.
Back to the crux of the matter, however, and the title of this submission. Today I came here to talk about the problem with feminists in a very, very white-washed area. I was good friends with a woman of color a few years ago, and she once told me that she hated feminists. I was a bit aghast, always having been for empowering women since a young age, and I needed to know why. She went on to explain to me in heated terms that feminists distract from the actual issue at hand, which is 99% of the time related to race. She had a fair point, especially in the Deep South, and I had to listen and consider that she may or may not be right. As I took part in being in the play that was being put on in my local area of Baton Rouge, I was faced with the reality of it all right there. It was almost like her angry words were staring me in the face. How could I ever doubt her?
As the show continued on, LeAndre's presence became more and more of a joke amongst most of the women, and it didn't help that she couldn't remember her lines. I confess that even I was annoyed with her from time to time, but I insisted on trying to help her rather than berate her, and she seemed to improve because of it. She also really enjoyed taking selfies with me backstage, and I loved that about her, being quite a "Selfie Queen," myself. My mother likes to call me such a name, and I wear it with pride. I'm not saying that I'm any better than the other women that were in my cast for treating LeAndre with kindness instead of pettiness, but what I am saying is that feminism really can be a distraction, and it's a damn shame. How dare we take such a pure cause and make it unholy? How dare we make every single black man in Southern Louisiana out to be a villain in the streets so that he's forced to pick up trash and do construction work for the remainder of his life simply because of the darkness of his skin and the height and girth of his build? And then force him to move out of his home because we find it unclean?
Do I even mention to this man what his home has become in the process of all this - a Starbucks?
A comfortable, cozy, safe place for white women to go and rehearse their community play practice in order to put on their play that's going to donate all their profits to a very, very good cause.
Excuse me while I stay home and make my own damn coffee.
Baton Rouge, at best, is a small city that's profited much from the horrendous practice of gentrification. That's my own personal opinion - take it or leave it - but it's something that white people out here are certainly very excited about. They love that their downtown area is now "clean" and "pretty" and "safe." They like that they can stroll around the streets and name them all after the famous streets of New Orleans, pretending that they are the same. New Orleans is not immune, either. Just two days ago, I received a notification that one of my favorite restaurants out there, a hole-in-the-wall po-boy shop, is being offered $5 million dollars to sell because a Starbucks has opened up across the street. Now I can see how this may sound like a great opportunity for the less-than-wealthy people that own this place, but what saddens me and probably hits them hardest is that this place has been around for years and it's full of history. I really hope they don't sell, despite the "prettying up" of the surrounding area because I'd hate to see it go. I mean, who knows? If it moves to a different location, will the food taste the same? Will it still be that same old po-boy shop that you can find while drunk, walking past the quarter, with a hankering for a delicious cheese and sausage po-boy? I don't know, and that thought really does upset me. I lived in New Orleans for four years and one of my favorite things about it was that even in the shadiest (or as white people like to refer to it all - "hood") areas, you'd find amazing food and wonderful people. Sure, there's violence and racial tension and all kinds of other things that could certainly make you uncomfortable, especially as a young white woman! However, if you look closely, all the natives of New Orleans want you to understand is that they've got plenty of Southern Hospitality themselves, and they are ready and willing to dole it out to you as well as the next privileged white woman. All they really ask in return is that you treat them with the respect and dignity - and comprehension - that they deserve.
I realize I'm treading on faulty ground to you all here, but it's something that must be said. Feminists don't necessarily have anything against gentrification because it only stands to profit them. It hurts people of color, though, and strips them of their long, hard-fought for history that they hold very dear. I know New Orleans and Baton Rouge have profited as a city, in general, from all of these renovations since Hurricane Katrina, but both cities have certainly lost a bit of their soul, and that makes me and many other locals very sad. Baton Rouge, for instance, is now a swarm of hipster men and women sporting their oversized flannels and ridiculously long beards, hanging out at Radio Bar, drinking expensive, ridiculous beer, and complaining about how "poor" they are. I know because I've been there many times. It's a huge crowd of practically all the same people. And don't even get me started on the women and how they're all ridiculously beautiful with their wide eyes and skinny frames and gorgeous hair, and they settle for a bear of man simply because he's a plant worker or a singer that's also a bartender on the side. Just last night, I was at Brickyard, and I was talking to a beautiful woman about all the stuff she's put up with from an ex and how he has made up for it all and she's taken him back. Imagine my surprise when I see this man pull up in his ridiculously suped-up truck looking like a damn lumberjack that forgot how to chop wood. He was overweight, ugly in the face, his beard was ridiculously long, and his hair clearly hadn't been washed in at least three days.
Look, ladies, I get it. You want security, and you want to be kept safe. But this is just beyond me! I mean, I don't even understand how the mechanics of it would work in bed, much less in life. Do you want to be taking care of an overstuffed ass at the ripe age of fifty-five, or do you want to be continuing to live your best life with a beautiful, active partner of your choice by your side? I could stand on this soapbox and argue about this point all day, but it never ceases to amaze me the type of men that Southern women will put up with simply because they feel like they have no other choice. I don't care how "in love" you think you are - you're lying to yourself and you're settling. And that, Dear Reader, is something that I will personally never do.
Back to the crux of the matter, however, and the title of this submission. Today I came here to talk about the problem with feminists in a very, very white-washed area. I was good friends with a woman of color a few years ago, and she once told me that she hated feminists. I was a bit aghast, always having been for empowering women since a young age, and I needed to know why. She went on to explain to me in heated terms that feminists distract from the actual issue at hand, which is 99% of the time related to race. She had a fair point, especially in the Deep South, and I had to listen and consider that she may or may not be right. As I took part in being in the play that was being put on in my local area of Baton Rouge, I was faced with the reality of it all right there. It was almost like her angry words were staring me in the face. How could I ever doubt her?
As the show continued on, LeAndre's presence became more and more of a joke amongst most of the women, and it didn't help that she couldn't remember her lines. I confess that even I was annoyed with her from time to time, but I insisted on trying to help her rather than berate her, and she seemed to improve because of it. She also really enjoyed taking selfies with me backstage, and I loved that about her, being quite a "Selfie Queen," myself. My mother likes to call me such a name, and I wear it with pride. I'm not saying that I'm any better than the other women that were in my cast for treating LeAndre with kindness instead of pettiness, but what I am saying is that feminism really can be a distraction, and it's a damn shame. How dare we take such a pure cause and make it unholy? How dare we make every single black man in Southern Louisiana out to be a villain in the streets so that he's forced to pick up trash and do construction work for the remainder of his life simply because of the darkness of his skin and the height and girth of his build? And then force him to move out of his home because we find it unclean?
Do I even mention to this man what his home has become in the process of all this - a Starbucks?
A comfortable, cozy, safe place for white women to go and rehearse their community play practice in order to put on their play that's going to donate all their profits to a very, very good cause.
Excuse me while I stay home and make my own damn coffee.
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