Message from my 5 year old self continues…
My weapon of choice now is the pen..and the knife…but in my childhood, it was actually the sword.
My shorts were designed by my dad, and sewn by my mom to fit perfectly, tailored to my need for freedom. There was nothing better than climbing trees, playing with the trucks I built, and making friends with the bees and butterflies.
I remember drawing my sword against bigoted sexist people who claimed chivalry as a guise for chauvinism and those who called me bossy and unladylike – Why do I have to behave like a lady? As they insisted on their misogyny – “Girls shouldn’t be tomboys.”
I remember viciously drawing my sword to ward off the constant antagonism. Constantly defying gendered norms and stereotypes was my daily work and joy, until it hurt.
One day my little body was sooooo upset I stormed inside the safety of my home, made my way up my bunkbed and fell on a mirror. There was blood everywhere. I forgot how I got that scar, until the more recent torture of that inclination by an international institution claiming to be gender forward of all things.
I remember looking up at those awful people happily traumatizing a child into conformity. The messaging was clear, I must fit in or die.
I remember not feeling any shame or apprehension.
In my mind I was shaming them by calling them out for their limiting mindsets. They were failed humans for uttering such stupid words and actions. How could they be so set into the foundation of people long dead and gone, many of whom were not to be admired. (So fuck you misogyny, sexism, and those old church people who tried to shame me for asking questions).
I remember how defiantly I would declare war on this system of oppression “Why do I have to be a boy or a girl, and who is this Tom??”
Today, I add more to my box ticking:
- Expat-immigrant living outside of home region for safety and survival
- Now also victim en route to Survivor
- Housing vulnerable
- Dependent
The concepts of basic decency, human rights, healthy boundaries and respectful communication fail you. Maybe it’s because you’re always messing with the history books and fighting inclusive lessons in school…your ancestors stole these lands long before you could comprehend the horrors of colonizers who got lost at sea but managed to wipe out entire indigenous nations, and another set who started the transatlantic human trafficking genocide backed by laws, state and church. (So fuck you and all those bystanders enabling systems that hate and then dispense with all of us).
…And to those who claim we are easily offended, or being too politically correct: Kindly acknowledge that the reality is I am simply too easily the subject of your insults as “jokes’, rage, ignorance, queer phobia and/or bigotry. You keep shouting about who can wear a dress, pink or blue, using the bathroom, and making up “fairytales” to hide the real horrors you commit. Do you even have a conscience, do you even know what it means to care and protect children, and any one of the most needy and vulnerable amongst us? Yeh that’s right, we learned how to use your systems and are speaking out, pressing charges, testifying and suing you. (So fuck you assholes!! predators!!abusers!!)
LOCK THEM UP!!!
FUCK ALLLLL THE WAY OFFF. Not part way, not a little bit…ALLLLL THE FUCKING WAY TO THE HELL OF YOUR OWN MAKING…
…OFF.
Signed. 5 year old me – yeh, even back then, I knew.
Colour in International Development 