Harry Enfield: offensive sketch: Filipino Maid

Fact: More than 3000 Filipinos leave the Philippines daily to find work overseas and to send remittances home to their families. Most of these workers are women.

Fact: Overseas Filipino women often find themselves in modern day slavery and are subject to abuse, sexual assault, and broken work contracts.

Fact: Sketches that mock Filipino maids or any domestic workers as sexual objects and demean their human worth are not entertaining and should apologize for their racist imagery and jokes.

False: This kind of entertainment is acceptable.

If you are not aware of the high rate of Filipino women who work as domestic helpers all over h world, look at the results here on YouTube when you simply search “Filipino Maid,” and find an endless list of womyn trying to find employment.

More Ohio Feminism

I’ve been a Cleveland-er now for 5 weeks and I just heard about this: children gassed in a Dayton mosque?

Um, Hello, Ohio?  Why was this not covered in mainstream media?  Why was this ignored?
How could I, a resident and avid reader of both newspaper and online sources not have heard of this until now?
I think it’s now my moral responsibility to swing this swing state toward a classroom that teaches media justice.

Dear Mr. President

In the background of life for the past several months…I’m not one of those musically dramatic people that use the phrase “change my life,” but after someone introduced this song to me, I was quiet for awhile and kept hitting repeat…for almost an hour.

Feminism (spit) or Feminism (fist)

In the constellation of feminism, I’m interested in hearing what YOU think is happening in feminism these days.  Are you ready to spit when you hear or read the *fword or are you striking up a fist?

These days I’m half and half.  This political circus surrounding the “women vote” is enough to make me want to vomit over the telly.  On the other hand, make/shift just came out with their latest and greatest edition, so get double fist pump for that.
Fist for the young womyn emailing me their dilemmas and problemas concerning the treacherous crossroads of race and gender.
Fist for the fems who are analyzing this Palin quagmire and it’s potential impact on the choices and freedoms of young womyn and grrls in a complex way.
Spit for Hill, Palin, and Gloria Steinem who have all but proven they don’t recognize womyn of color in their philosophies and campaigns.
Spit for my former crush who just got in touch with me but then used the term “damaged goods” when referring to a woman he used to love.  WTF kind of term is “damaged goods” when referring to human with a heart, soul, and moving ligaments?
Fist for my budding photography business in which I will be featuring all my social justice and feminist art.
Fist for me because…because…just because I’m surviving.
What about you – spit or fist for feminism these days?

Take It As Fuel

I am, as the lovely Spanish language would say, EN FUEGO.

I’m learning to turn rage, stress, anger, pissed off states, and frustration into fuel.
I conquered my 3 mile run.  Not since 2004, when I let it die on the streets of Heath and Boylston have I run a full 3 miles.  Running isn’t about anything but finding myself on the road, hearing my feet nearly splinter, feeling my body about to give, and then my mind takes over and says, “Go.”
And everything fades.
There’s nothing; just me, the road, and my lungs breathing in sweet autumn air.
Life is good.  My body is recovering and my soul is slowly lifting itself back into light.
Thanks for all your encouragement – both on and offline.