Feminism | Posted by Sabina S on 07/6/2011
Blast From The Past
I was at my friend’s house working on a project for school. It was getting late so her mum made us dinner. At the table, my friend’s dad was ordering her mum around and asking for things to be brought to him. Now, it was all in good fun, but it still bugged me a little bit because it reminded me of the times that Betty Friedan discusses in “Feminine Mystique.” And then, to make matters worse, my friend’s mum started talking about how she just lost her job. While we were eating, she started complaining about her lack of employment. Then she concluded that now that she is unemployed she MUST resume the housewife roll. She proceeded to name off a laundry list of chores for her to do …
Feminism | Posted by Bre K on 06/28/2011
When Parents Are Wrong
Lately I’ve been getting into fights with my parents. Well, one main fight. They want me to find a job.
The argument part started when my hair turned out three different colors by mistake this year and I really wanted to dye my hair back to its natural, dark color. They said they will pay to dye my hair, but only dirty blond because I need to have “sex appeal” in order to find a part time job while going to school. Gross.
I want to be all natural and real, not fake like I’m trying to look like workplace Barbie. They told me, “You need to use your femininity to get a job. Half the workers are male workers and you can’t even do those jobs because you are a …
Articles | Posted by Danielle B on 03/14/2011
When You Lose Someone (From One Teen to Another)
It’s 10:06 AM on a random Tuesday morning (I’m not a skipper, folks, my school is on Mid-Winter Break), but I got a weird impulse to write this post.
My dad passed away last month. Chances are some of you have also lost a loved one in the past few months and, like myself, are struggling with how to get by.
When my dad was in the hospital and hooked up to what felt like a thousand different machines doing all of his bodily functions for him, it was really tough. I try to block those memories out, but I can still picture everything with perfect clarity: sitting by his bedside, holding a hand that at times felt too cold and at others too hot, and above all else, trying …