Women Zine

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CONT SPRING 2018


TENTS What It Means to be a Strong Woman

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Women’s March 2018

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The Revolution is Now

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My Body, My Choice

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A Story Like Mine

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When I was in elementary school, I thought it meant being picked first for kickball, even though I kicked like a girl. I thought it meant scrunching my nose and curling my lips when a boy wanted to kiss, and I thought it meant getting as dirty and hurt as the guys I shared recess with. When I was in middle school, I though it meant playing basketball and volleyball and softball and running track. I thought it meant liking video games and heavy metal and acting more masculine than feminine. I thought it meant choosing Shop instead of Home Ec, and saying “no” to boys when so many of my friends were starting to say “yes.” When I was in high school, I thought being a strong woman meant going shot-forshot with my male friends. I thought it meant guarding my virginity — or, at the very least, hiding the fact that I had lost it. I thought it meant caring very little about my popularity, while simultaneously cultivating it. I thought it meant knowing exactly what I wanted to do once I received my diploma, and not allowing a boyfriend to influence my future plans. When I was in college, I thought it meant experimenting sexually and with conscious fluidity. I thought it meant answering questions in class, but not too often and not with too much conviction.

only to fight a patriarchal society’s view of femininity. I was convinced it meant fighting back against the social pressure to get married and have children. But what I have learned, in my humble 28 years as a woman, is that being a strong woman means being unapologetically, fiercely and wholeheartedly you. It means you like what you like, regardless of the gender we’ve attached to it. It means you’re not afraid to love football, even though you know people will assume it’s to impress a guy. It means you’re not afraid to love ballet or makeup, even though you’ll be typecast as a “girly girl,” considered frail and weak for liking something society has deemed “feminine.” It means getting an abortion because you know it’s the right thing to do, even though you’re painfully aware a good portion of society will unequivocally hate you for it. It means putting your child up for adoption, even though people will tell you that means you didn’t really love them. Being a strong woman means asking for what you deserve, even though you’ll be called selfish and impatient.

It means wearing a short skirt and a low-cut top because you feel beautiful in both, knowing full well you’ll be slut-shamed for it. It means wearing a conservative turtleneck and slacks, even though people will call you a prude and a goodie-goodie. It means refusing to apologize for having a voice and using it, even though you know you’ll be called cold or cruel or a bitch. It means speaking about the sexual assault you’ve survived, even though you know there will be people who won’t believe you. It means choosing to put yourself through an examination, even though rape kits are backlogged and convictions are few and far between. It means abandoning the exhausting and often fruitless process of reporting your rape, because no one but you gets to decide how you recover from trauma. You’ll be called selfish and weak, but you’ll know what’s best for you and the healing process you’ve chosen.

By Danielle Campoamor

It means fighting for the right to exercise a basic freedom, while your male counterparts chastise you for it.

I was told it meant refusing to shave my armpits or legs, if

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We stand together in solidarity with our partners and children for the protection of our rights, our safety, our health, and our families - recognizing that our vibrant and diverse communities are the strength of our country.

WOMEN’S MARCH 2018



THE REVO


OLUTION IS NOW More than 200,000 protesters attended the march in New York on Saturday, according to Mayor Bill de Blasio. Mayor Eric Garcetti of Los Angeles said 600,000 attended the march there, while organizers of the Chicago march said 300,000 attended that event. Thousands also turned out in Washington, Philadelphia, Austin and hundreds of other cities and towns around the country and world. Several speakers urged women to channel their energy into helping Democrats win races in the upcoming midterm elections. A rally called “Power to the Polls,” organized by the leaders of last year’s Women’s March in Washington, will be held on Sunday in Las Vegas. Demonstrators at the second Women’s March in Chicago on Saturday called for Trump’s impeachment.

President Trump said in a tweet that it was a “perfect day for all Women to March,” while touting “unprecedented economic success and wealth creation” under his watch. Scarlett Johansson, wearing a Time’s Up shirt at the Los Angeles march, spoke about a personal mantra: “No more pandering.” The pop star Halsey, who was born Ashley Nicoletta Frangipane in Edison and graduated from Warren Hills Regional High School in 2012, took to the stage at the march in New York to deliver a poem called “A Story Like Mine.” Her words zeroed in on sexual assault and the stories of victims, including her own.

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HALSEY

A STORY LIKE MINE

Halsey penned a powerful, heart-wrenching poem about her own experiences with sexual assault and rape for the 2018 Women’s March in New York City. The singer-songwriter delivered “A Story Like Mine” in lieu of a traditional speech at the rally.


“It’s 2009 and I’m 14 and I’m crying Not really sure where I am but I’m holding the hand of my best friend Sam In the waiting room of a Planned Parenthood The air is sterile and clean, and the walls are that not grey, but green And the lights are so bright they could burn a whole through the seam of my jeans My phone is buzzing in the pocket My mom is asking me if I remembered my keys ‘cause she’s closing the door and she needs to lock it But I can’t tell my mom where I’ve gone I can’t tell anyone at all You see, my best friend Sam was raped by a man that we knew ‘cause he worked in the after-school program And he held her down with her textbook beside her And he covered her mouth and he came inside her So now I’m with Sam, at the place with a plan, waiting for the results of a medical exam And she’s praying she doesn’t need an abortion, she couldn’t afford it And her parents would, like, totally kill her

He’s got a case of Matchbox cars and he says that he’ll teach me to play the guitar if I just keep quiet And the stairwell beside apartment 1245 will haunt me in my sleep for as long as I am alive And I’m too young to know why it aches in my thighs, but I must lie, I must lie It’s 2012 and I’m dating a guy and I sleep in his bed and I just learned how to drive And he’s older than me and he drinks whiskey neat and he’s paying for everything This adult thing is not cheap We’ve been fighting a lot, almost 10 times a week And he wants to have sex, and I just want to sleep He says I can’t say no to him This much I owe to him He buys my dinner, so I have to blow him He’s taken to forcing me down on my knees And I’m confused ‘cause he’s hurting me while he says please And he’s only a man, and these things he just needs He’s my boyfriend, so why am I filled with unease?

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A STORY LIKE MINE

It’s 2002 and my family just moved and the only people I know are my mom’s friends, too, and her son

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It’s 2017 and I live like a queen And I’ve followed damn near every one of my dreams I’m invincible and I’m so fucking naive I believe I’m protected ‘cause I live on a screen Nobody would dare act that way around me I’ve earned my protection, eternally clean Until a man that I trust gets his hands in my pants But I don’t want none of that, I just wanted to dance And I wake up the next morning like I’m in a trance and there’s blood Is that my blood? Hold on a minute You see I’ve worked every day since I was 18 I’ve toured everywhere from Japan to Mar-a-Lago I even went on stage that night in Chicago when I was having a miscarriage I mean, I pied the piper, I put on a diaper And sang out my spleen to a room full of teens

What do you mean this happened to me? You can’t put your hands on me You don’t know what my body has been through I’m supposed to be safe now I earned it It’s 2018 and I’ve realized nobody is safe long as she is alive And every friend that I know has a story like mine And the world tells me we should take it as a compliment But then heroes like Ashley and Simone and Gabby, McKayla and Gaga, Rosario, Aly Remind me this is the beginning, it is not the finale And that’s why we’re here And that’s why we rally It’s Olympians and a medical resident and not one fucking word from the man who is President It’s about closed doors and secrets and legs and stilletos from the Hollywood hills to the projects in ghettos

When babies are ripped from the arms of teen mothers and child brides cry globally under the covers Who don’t have a voice on the magazine covers They tell us take cover But we are not free until all of us are free So love your neighbor, please treat her kindly Ask her story and then shut up and listen Black, Asian, poor, wealthy, trans, cis, Muslim, Christian Listen, listen and then yell at the top of your lungs Be a voice for all those who have prisoner tongues For the people who had to grow up way too young There is work to be done There are songs to be sung Lord knows there’s a war to be won.” By Ashley Nicoletta Frangipane


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Created by Casey McGinnis


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