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Work 4 Peace,Hold All Life Sacred,Eliminate Violence! I am on my mobile version of the door-to-door, going town-to-town holding readings/gatherings/discussions of my book "But What Can I Do?" This is my often neglected blog mostly about my travels since 9/11 as I engage in dialogue and actions. It is froth with my opinions, insights, analyses toward that end of holding all life sacred, dismantling the empire and eliminating violence while creating the society we want all to thrive in

Saturday, April 13, 2019

Male violence...

Yet again, two womyn are sitting at a small round table in the outdoor area of a bar, their heads almost touching, deep in a conversation that is obviously intimate. It is Womyn's Weekend here at Rehoboth Beach, which I don't think is a secret, so there are LOTS of dykes around.

A scruffy white man, tall, bearded and tattooed swings around from the bar, spots the womyn and starts cat-calling and yelling across a few tables, puckering his thin chapped lips, making kissie noises. When they ignore him while his buddies hoot, he is compelled to leave the bar and walk around to the front railing where they are perched behind.

He leans over, putting his elbows on the table with the widest grin and informs the womyn that he wants to see them make-out. He says it loud enough so his friends at the bar can hear but barely above their hysterical laughter.

The womyn smile and lean back, examine their check and rise to leave - must to the man's deeply expressed chagrin he won't see them making out.

I'm livid. I think about men who dress as what society says women should dress, who get 'insulted' when someone calls them 'sir' - and yet lesbians have to deal with this hatred and disrespect without one person in that bar standing up to this violence and for these womyn and all womyn.

Sexism alive and well

I am at a Rehoboth Beach conference center, walking down the hall towards the door when a tall white man approaches me and asks me where the bathroom is....HON.... Really? Hon? A man hasn't dared to call me that in I don't know how many decades. When I responded with "down the hall, dear" he abruptly stopped, turned red in the face and then continued in the direction I indicated.

A couple hours later, 6 womyn and myself were sitting at a table outside a restaurant, sharing a meal and lots of conversation and laughter when yet another white man strolls over, places his hands on the fence barrier and stretches his body as far as he can to get right into the middle of our table. He starts talking loudly, commenting on our vivacious 'chatter' and I raise my voice to tell him he's interrupting.

He laughs and insists on joining in the merry time, continuing to talk as if we will be so happy to include him. NOT. The womon next to me leans almost into his face, points her finger and tells him quite loudly we're talking about overthrowing male domination and patriarchy now. This kinda silences him as he hesitates, maybe waiting for a punch line but we've ignored him and are continuing with our conversation.

Really men, get a fuckin life.

I know her life...

A bunch of us rowdy womxxn are in a noisy restaurant, high on smelling ourselves and just being together. In order to use the bathroom, I have to pass an older white strate couple, the male half of which is staring at me and then my chest where he is reading with great obvious distaste "Smash Fuckin Patriarchy".

I inwardly smile as I continue along my path. Returning from the bathroom, they both swivel around from the counter on their high stools to look slightly down at me as the female of the couple reaches out to me to ask what is written on my t-shirt.

I don't think she is practiced confronting people but I think they have 'agreed' she would be the designated confrontor. Of course, he also leans forward and mutters something that we both ignore - me holding her eyes and her unable to glance away.

I tell her. She looks dubious and begins to do the male protection gatekeeping thing. I stop her and ask her if she doesn't think male violence has to be smashed.

She flushes slightly then turns extremely pale and I know her life just like that. She stutters some womyn are violent also. We stare at each other for a few beats before I start rattling off statistics of violence against womyn.

She eases back into her chair, her husband totally neglected, nodding slowly.

I ease forward and tell her we womyn HAVE to take over. There's been enough destruction of human life and Mother Earth. A hint of a smile fills her eyes as she nods with more confidence and utters some of my favorite words: "I think you might be right!"