This past weekend, I went to Slutwalk NYC. I could talk about what an incredible, inspiring experience it was. I could talk about how I did feel conflicted about what I saw as certain gaps between theory and practice of the movement. I could write a lot of things about the experience. But there has already been a lot written about Slutwalk – on this blog and many, manyothers.
So, instead of writing about Slutwalk, I want to show you. I want to share the pictures I took there, so if you didn’t get a chance to attend a Slutwalk, you might be able to get an idea of what it was like.
Keep in mind I’m short, so these aren’t the best shots ever, but I tried …
SlutWalk NYC is today. I’ll be there in my “This Is What A Feminist Looks Like” shirt (that’s what’s up). Hopefully all you NYC-area FBomber’s will be, too!
July 31 marks the one-year anniversary of the night I was raped. On August 6, I will be participating in Slutwalk when it comes to Philly. They could not have picked a better date. I find it ironic that the very word that kept me from getting any help that night a year ago is now the very same word that is saving me.
I know that Slutwalk has many critics, and in a way I think that most of it may stem from simple ignorance. I don’t mean this as an insult, but rather that until someone is in the situation of rape, they simply can never understand.
You will never understand the 3 am feeling of laying on the cool tile of the bathroom floor after puking up …
