The Fall of Feminism

Feminism in itself is a good thing. It’s a much needed movement internationally. However, as it applies in America, feminism is a small ship within a sea of radical ideologies. A small ship full of holes. Real feminists (the good ones) are shoveling out the water, when in reality, that’s not going to do anything. They need to separate from the sea and find a more sturdy ship—one without holes and idiotic passengers who have no idea how to handle sharp objects.

America has partnered good old fashioned feminism with man-hating lesbianism, and it has poisoned the well. Now, legit feminists struggle to remain valid within a country full of radical buffoons who prioritize free-bleeding and armpit hair. The symbol of feminism has quite literally become a hairy armpit. While in places like the Middle East, feminism is about making your own decisions—not being forced into marriage—not having to cover up or consult a man on everything. The right to live.

America has become so pompous and so entitled that we have people claiming that even if a SOBER woman requests sex from a man, who she has sex with, enjoys sex with, and cuddles with afterwards, it could STILL be rape because men have programmed women’s brains.

So, yes, American feminism is a sinking ship and should be abandoned. Egalitarianism should be embraced above all other things. But the word “feminism” has been written off and blacklisted because too many actual feminists allowed the seed of radicalism on their ship.

I guess that’s it. Rant over! Yay! Go women! Seriously.

My Mother’s Cancer: Inside the Body of a Warrior

[Headline image: The photograph shows a black woman with a bald head and a serious expression on her face. She is looking down and a little to the side. She has a bump on her chest and is wearing a white shirt.]

January 29, 2015 by Philippe Leonard Fradet

In remembrance of my mother, Gail D. Davis-Fradet, 9/11/1956-1/22/2009

When I was 17, my mother began experiencing tremendous lower back pain, and no one in my family could quite figure out why. Due to some medical issues years prior, my mom was instructed by doctors to lose weight, and she did. She was instructed to exercise more, and she did. She was instructed to eat healthier, and she did. My mother was living as “healthy” a lifestyle as she possibly could, so why did she start experiencing such intense back pain that she missed work and couldn’t drive?

The various doctors she consulted about the pain did little to actually help her figure out the source. She was 51 at the time, and the doctors simply chalked it up to “getting old.” My mother asked her doctors to perform whatever tests they had that would help diagnose the issue, but they refused and gave her pain pills. Again, they told her to lose weight, to exercise more, to eat healthier, and she did. But even though she took the pain pills and followed the doctor’s orders, the pain didn’t subside. It actually got worse.

In March 2008, my father rushed my mother to the emergency room. She had had enough. She couldn’t stand the pain anymore, and nothing they did at home helped her — not the extra padding on the bed, not the back rest, not the topical treatments, nothing. It was upon an overnight stay in the emergency room that my mother was diagnosed with Stage 4 lung cancer. This was the diagnosis we were all asking to see but never wanted to believe was the case…


I Have Hashi What? Living with a Chronic Disease No One Can See

[Headline image: The photograph shows an Hispanic woman with long black hair and dark eyes. She is wearing a white tank top with a color pattern. Her right hand is holding a hairbrush with the bristles up. With her left hand, she is pulling a strand of hair from the hairbrush. She has an alarmed expression on her face. Behind her is a white background.]

January 30, 2015 by Awilda González

You spend years complaining to your doctor about everything under the sun, yet he finds an answer for every single one of your ailments. Your menstrual cycle has a mind of its own, the doc says. You must be in the beginning stages of menopause. And what do you do? You believe it. You go through more emotions in a day than a rollercoaster has twist, turns, and loops.

So what do you do then? You tell the doc about your emotions. It’s the most logical thing to do. Of course, he has an answer for that, too. What’s going on in your life? You must be going through some stress. Of course, you begin to analyze everything in your life, work, and home, and yeah, you start believing you are stressed.

Years pass, and you begin to notice that no matter how much you exercise or how little you eat, you don’t lose any weight. The first thing that pops into your head is, There must be something wrong with me. You go to your doctor, trusting he is the one who can provide some answers, but of course, he simply says, You just aren’t eating when you should and you need to exercise more. So what do you do? You eat less, cut out your favorite foods, work out more, and yeah, that’s the answer. If the doc says so, it must be true.

Then, one day, after years of saying the same thing and doing everything that the doctor recommends, you wake up one morning and you realize that your hair, your crowning glory, is falling out. Not just one or two strands. You could make a wig out of all the hair you are losing. And then the most horrifying thing that can happen to a woman is happening to you: YOU HAVE A HUGE BALD SPOT.


Letter from Birmingham Jail

While confined here in the Birmingham city jail, I came across your recent statement calling our present activities “unwise and untimely.” Seldom, if ever, do I pause to answer criticism of my work and ideas. If I sought to answer all of the criticisms that cross my desk, my secretaries would be engaged in little else in the course of the day, and I would have no time for constructive work. But since I feel that you are men of genuine good will and your criticisms are sincerely set forth, I would like to answer your statement in what I hope will be patient and reasonable terms.

I think I should give the reason for my being in Birmingham, since you have been influenced by the argument of “outsiders coming in”

I am in Birmingham because injustice is here …I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states. I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial “outside agitator” idea. Anyone who lives inside the United States can never be considered an outsider …

We have waited for more than three hundred and forty years for our God-given and constitutional rights. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jetlike speed toward the goal of political independence, and we still creep at horse-and-buggy pace toward the gaining of a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. I guess it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say “wait.” But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate-filled policemen curse, kick, brutalize, and even kill your black brothers and sisters with impunity; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six-year-old daughter why she cannot go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her little eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see the depressing clouds of inferiority begin to form in her little mental sky, and see her begin to distort her little personality by unconsciously developing a bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five-year-old son asking in agonizing pathos, “Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?”; when you take a cross-country drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading “white” and “colored”; when your first name becomes “nigger” and your middle name becomes “boy” (however old you are) and your last name becomes “John,” and when your wife and mother are never given the respected title “Mrs.”; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of “nobodyness”—then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over and men are no longer willing to be plunged into an abyss of injustice where they experience the bleakness of corroding despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience …

You express a great deal of anxiety over our willingness to break laws. This is certainly a legitimate concern. Since we so diligently urge people to obey the Supreme Court’s decision of 1954 outlawing segregation in the public schools, it is rather strange and paradoxical to find us consciously breaking laws. One may well ask, “How can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?” The answer is found in the fact that there are two types of laws: there are just laws, and there are unjust laws. I would agree with St. Augustine that “An unjust law is no law at all.”

Now, what is the difference between the two? How does one determine when a law is just or unjust? A just law is a man-made code that squares with the moral law, or the law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with the moral law. To put it in the terms of St. Thomas Aquinas, an unjust law is a human law that is not rooted in eternal and natural law. Any law that uplifts human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is unjust. All segregation statutes are unjust because segregation distorts the soul and damages the personality …

There are some instances when a law is just on its face and unjust in its application. For instance, I was arrested Friday on a charge of parading without a permit. Now, there is nothing wrong with an ordinance which requires a permit for a parade, but when the ordinance is used to preserve segregation and to deny citizens the First Amendment privilege of peaceful assembly and peaceful protest, then it becomes unjust.

Of course, there is nothing new about this kind of civil disobedience. It was seen sublimely in the refusal of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego to obey the laws of Nebuchadnezzar because a higher moral law was involved. It was practiced superbly by the early Christians, who were willing to face hungry lions and the excruciating pain of chopping blocks before submitting to certain unjust laws of the Roman Empire. To a degree, academic freedom is a reality today because Socrates practiced civil disobedience.

We can never forget that everything Hitler did in Germany was “legal” and everything the Hungarian freedom fighters did in Hungary was “illegal.” It was “illegal” to aid and comfort a Jew in Hitler’s Germany. But I am sure that if I had lived in Germany during that time, I would have aided and comforted my Jewish brothers even though it was illegal. If I lived in a Communist country today where certain principles dear to the Christian faith are suppressed, I believe I would openly advocate disobeying these anti-religious laws …

I have no fear about the outcome of our struggle in Birmingham, even if our motives are presently misunderstood. We will reach the goal of freedom in Birmingham and all over the nation, because the goal of America is freedom. Abused and scorned though we may be, our destiny is tied up with the destiny of America. Before the Pilgrims landed at Plymouth, we were here. Before the pen of Jefferson scratched across the pages of history the majestic word of the Declaration of Independence, we were here …If the inexpressible cruelties of slavery could not stop us, the opposition we now face will surely fail. We will win our freedom because the sacred heritage of our nation and the eternal will of God are embodied in our echoing demands …

Never before have I written a letter this long—or should I say a book? I’m afraid that it is much too long to take your precious time. I can assure you that it would have been much shorter if I had been writing from a comfortable desk, but what else is there to do when you are alone for days in the dull monotony of a narrow jail cell other than write long letters, think strange thoughts, and pray long prayers?

If I have said anything in this letter that is an understatement of the truth and is indicative of an unreasonable impatience, I beg you to forgive me. If I have said anything in this letter that is an overstatement of the truth and is indicative of my having a patience that makes me patient with anything less than brotherhood, I beg God to forgive me.

Yours for the cause of Peace and Brotherhood,

Meet the ‘Radical Brownies’ - Girl Scouts for the modern age
January 25, 2015

Not all girl scouts are concerned with peddling shortbread cookies. There’s one troop of young girls in Oakland that discusses matters of racial inequality and wear brown berets in an homage to radical civil rights groups.

The girls, ages 8-12, are part of the “Radical Brownies,” an edgier, younger version of the Girl Scouts, where girls earn badges for completing workshops on social protests, and a beauty workshop that celebrate racial diversity.

Radical Brownies is dedicated to providing young girls of color relevant life experiences, explains the group’s co-founder Anayvette Martinez.

Martinez, a community organizer, created the Radical Brownies with Marilyn Hollinquest because “there aren’t enough spaces [for young girls of color] in our society.” The Radical Brownies of Oakland launched last month and already includes 12 girls. All the members are girls of color or mixed-race. The Radical Brownies are not affiliated with the Girl Scouts of the USA.

The founders say once the program expands to multiple chapters the organization will be open to everybody, but the program will always remain focused on young girls of color.

In the Radical Brownies, girls learn about social justice movements such the Black Panthers and the Chicano group Brown Berets. They wear their brown berets in homage to those two groups. But they also study how Disney princesses define girls’ image of beauty, and how that can affect self-image.

The Radical Brownies have their own badge system, including one for “Radical Beauty” and an “LGBT ally” badge. The girls also earned a “Black Lives Matter” badge after learning about police accountability and attending a civil rights march in Oakland.

“I think it’s never too early to have these conversations with young people,” Martinez told Fusion.

“Children are more aware than we think; it’s important to not shelter children from real issues that we’re living,” she said. “It’s especially important for young girls of color to feel empowered.”

The troop is ready to attend more protest and will soon launch a fundraising campaign on their Facebook page to raise money for a banner and a megaphone.


This is the best piece of news I’ve read in a very long time. 

I’ll make sure to post again when their fundraising campaign starts so we can get these fierce grrls the tools they need to dismantle the white supremacist heteropatriarchy! Fists up!