Archive | September, 2016

Fathers of Feminists

29 Sep

Here’s a shocker for you, I wasn’t born a card carrying member of the Feminist club. I didn’t even know there was a need for a Feminist club until I was an adult and learned what sexual division was all about. In my house, as we grew up, seperation of sexes just wasn’t a thing. My father had four daughters, and he is the original feminist in my life. Our self worth was never something that came into question because we always had it. This concept might be a shock for some people, but we had it simply because we survived our birth.

The theory of true equality wasn’t just an expression in my world as a teenager, it was practiced in every thing. My father believed his daughters could do anything they put their mind to. Trust me, on Saturday morning when he wanted a ditch or a garden dug in the back yard, at no point ever would having a vagine been an excuse to get out of work. 

My sister and I were talking on the phone yesterday about this very thing. How surprised we both were, as adults, the first time we’ve really seen discrimination or differences due to sex. Now, I can’t speak for all of my siblings, as I have three, but even if only 50% of his daughters rock a wicked self worth – he did a tremedous thing. (I don’t want to short-change my mother either, she taught me how to share this entitlement to being human with other impressionable women who may not be too sure of where they stand in the universe.)

So there you have it, I learned that I am human, and I belong in the human race as an equal from my father, and I learned to make sure every person I meet has the same sense of self and belonging from my mother. 

I’ve taught my daughters how to use their voice and demand equality for all. I am taking my daughter to Washington D.C. where I’m hoping she will fall in love with the United States government in action. I want her to be the President of the United States one day. 

All because of fathers who believe in their daughters, and mothers who teach.

xoxo – Kristy

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Walls come tumbling down…

28 Sep

On any given day, you will find me trying to empower the young women I meet. Yesterday, while having lunch, a young woman apologized to a man for eating in front of him. Now the backstory is that this  young woman was on her lunch break, and he came up to her. She apologized for eating. Before I could even stop myself, I told her in my stern mom voice ‘don’t do that.’ She looked at me quite confused, and I reiterated my message. At no point in your life should you apologize unless it is valid and warrented.

I could see the confusion, but then the man said, ‘Yeah, eating is nothing to be sorry for.’

We are so ingrained sometimes, to smooth things over, or to make light o a situation. Or in this case, just because there may be some perceived injustice that somehow we must be at fault for. I see it at work all the time. If a man and a woman are walking down the same length of the production floor, she will almost always cast her eyes down, and step to her right or left, allowing him the right of way. 

But that’s being polite, right? Let’s go with that. It happens every single day, all day. I have a co-worker who is immune to this phenomenon. I don’t even know if she’s aware of it, but she walks with a straight spine, eyes ahead, and confidence in her worth. People part like the red seas. I want to walk with that confidence when I grow up. 

Every single day women are faced with our own guilded cages. These are things we do because our mothers did them, or their mothers before them. We have no real reason anymore. Most men don’t even notice these daily neuances. It truly isn’t a matter of sexism in my mind, it’s our own walls build up over generations and we’ve forgotten how to tear them down. 

Women – get your sledgehammers, a woman is about to become President of the United States. 

It’s time for those damn walls to come down.

xoxo

Kristy Bock

My silence vs your voice

27 Sep

I believe in not speaking, unless I have something to contribute. Mindless chatter for no other reason than filling up some silent void is silly to me. I rarely share my thoughts or feelings, not because I don’t have them, but because I don’t think the people around me care about the daily nuances of my life. Do you really care about how I got up this morning… drank coffee… couldn’t find my orange workout shirt, which I later found on the kitchen floor? No – I barely care about my morning. 

Often my silence has been taken for being aloof, or even insecurity. It’s neither. Mostly it’s because I’m always in my own head thinking for other people. I decide what they want to hear, or what they would find interesting. Before you call me out for being rude, we all do it. We decide how much of any story we should share, because we never want to make ourselves look bad. I’m just copping to it. I especially do this at work. I call it filtering myself. (Though, its only because of work that I have any people skills at all.)

I’ve lost many friendships because I do not hold up what they perceive as my end of the bargain. Even though I would always be there, at the drop of a hat, handing them the shirt off my back; They couldn’t live in a world with me where I didn’t call them daily to inquire about their morning. This is why I have the most amazing best friend, who just calls me and says WTF Kristy – I haven’t talked to you all week. 

I wouldn’t change it though because words have power. They have so much power to hurt, to heal, and even to destroy. My silence is keeping my ugly inside. When I feel a burst of emotion coming on, I go quiet. If I stay quiet its because you’ve hurt my feelings, but I’m not confident enough to tell you how I feel. It’s not because I’m afraid or because I want some predetermined outcome, it’s because I genuinely hate hurting other people’s feelings. 

I believe the world needs more silence…

xoxo Kristy