mens rights advocates

I think the main reason I dislike feminism so much is the way it treats men, it is truly criminal. As a man and someone who hangs around a lot of men I know how great and kind they are, but feminism lies and it sickens me to see my gender so mistreated.

anonymous asked:

Never trust a man who thinks that "men's rights" need to be advocated for.

For real. Only MoC and gay men need to fight for their rights still but obviously this isn’t what the MRAs talk about…

anonymous asked:

Simon, I'm intoxicated and afraid. I'm worried about tomorrow, about what might happen with all of the unrest and political machinations. I want to run to another country, get away from all of this, but I also want to stand and fight. But I don't want to die. Do you know what you're planning to do in the upcoming days?

You’re justly afraid, but there are things you need to see.

Fear is a warning. It is there to help you. If it cripples you, it is no good to you. The greater the fear, the more it can be used, the more it needs to be used, because the closer you are to oblivion. If you want to learn how to channel your fear and use it to motivate change, this is what you must do. Here is an itemized list.

1. Get a handle on the fear. Know its shape. The specifics of it. What is frightening you and where are the boundaries? Are you afraid of far right politics? In what ways? All right agendas or some of them? Does religion figure into it, sexuality, human rights etcetera. Learn the fear. Outline it. Write it down if you must. Know what it looks like so that you can move to the second step.

2. Educate yourself. Take every single fear you have and investigate it. Not merely the surface. If you feel afraid of Nazis and their seeming reemergence…then your fear is based in ignorance. They never left. They never suddenly appeared. Go back as far as you need to, to Babylon if you must. Read about the pyramids of skulls. Read about the genocides that stitch your history to Time. Read and track and trace. Make yourself an expert. What does this do for you? It makes you infinitely smarter than the people caught up in the dangerous movement- running on their own rampant and ill-informed fears- who have no idea why they are a part of it, except their irrational hatred.

And do not settle for one opinion or only the opinions that reinforce yours. Read all of them. Don’t see it as a chance to bolster an argument. That comes later. Right now, simply learn all there is, and then later, refine it to fit your notions of the world. Otherwise, you will be guilty of their crime- that of tailoring facts to suit their fear. The more you learn from an objective standpoint, the more your notion of the world may change. With the added benefit that irrational fear cannot thrive in this kind of mental environment.

3. Mobilize. Now that you know your fear and know the subject intimately, you can do something with it. You are now an exceptionally educated person. You can see the patterns that must be avoided and the reasons they come about. You can prevent them from happening.

Research local organizations that have clearcut goals. From letter writers, to marchers, to charities that help kids in crisis, to local politicians who need extra staff on a volunteer basis. Women’s outreach groups, charities that reach out to POC or advocate for their rights, men advocating for women, mental health groups. Go and find these. YOUR FEAR MUST NOT STOP YOU FROM MAKING A BETTER PLACE. It must not stop you at all. Use it, learn the feeling of using it, of having a stake in your path and the path of this land.

4. Never become comfortable. If you find that the fear has lessened due to your continual movement and your refusal to surrender to it, don’t stop there. There are others in fear. Find them. Help them. Get involved in larger groups. Do greater things.

5. Stop and look around you. See all the others beside you doing the same thing. See them there with their hands in the dirt and their shirt sleeves rolled up to their elbows.

And be not afraid.

saying a black man deserves to be shot down in the middle of the street because of how he looks or what he was wearing is literally equal to saying a woman deserves to be raped because she’s wearing a short skirt and i’ve noticed a lot of my fellow feminists stay completely silent about this connection and it’s really disheartening, people who all day preaching about the patriarchy but failing to note how the mainstream patriarchy along with white supremacy and white male masculinity punishes black men and other men of color worse than it does white women, if you’re staying quiet about this i’m not interested in your brand of feminism because it completely lacks intersectionality, if you don’t care about this why the fuck would you care about giving women of color a safe place to air their feelings about both racism and sexism they see and deal with every day, are you spreading the word about black women and black trans women who’ve also been victims of police brutality, nope probably not but like … school dress codes are oppressive, right?

and mens rights activists? are you advocating for the civil rights of black men? are you challenging police brutality and racial profiling in big cities and small towns across america that targets almost exclusively black men and other men of color? are you raising funds for the families of the black men who’ve died at the hands of police? or are you still crying over the friend zone and putting your penises inside of a plush pony.

I will only say this once:

Advocating rights for women does not mean I am against the rights for men or non-binary genders.

Advocating rights for LGBTA+ identities does not mean I am against the rights for cis-gendered heterosexuals.

Advocating rights for people of color does not mean I am against the rights for white people.

Advocating rights for animals does not mean I am against the rights for human beings.

Just because the discussion is not about you does not mean that you do not matter, however derailing important conversations about specific issues because your problems are not being discussed will not solve anything.

This isn’t a competition for who is more oppressed. We all are fighting our own battles. Everyone deserves respect, happiness, and equality.

dear tumblr please please please get with the program and make an adequate blocking feature that keeps users from seein & commentin on ur blog i dont even care that ur tumblr video is shit i just do not want to be harassed by angry old white men for advocating human rights or stalked by my abusers thanks
The Funeral of My Feminism

The love affair started when I arrived at University. I came from the country, in old-fashioned clothes. I was clumsy and naïve and happy, and I wanted to do all the exciting things I couldn’t do back home in my village. Women’s Studies was the most exciting thing I’d ever heard of. I was majoring in something biology-related that would give me a solid career, but I wanted to study something exotic too. Something that would make my parents sigh and roll their eyes.

Women’s Studies did just that, and I loved it. I was 18 years old and they told me that I was important. They told me I was being actively oppressed by an invisible patriarchy, and that all I had to do was open my eyes. I did. I opened my eyes to everything. Women were paid less than men. Women weren’t represented in politics. Women never made it to executive positions because of a glass ceiling. Men looked at us, and the male gaze was oppressive. Biological notions were oppressive because.. I don’t know, I never understood it, but biology and the patriarchy were very much in bed with each other and against social constructivism, which we were for. Women weren’t able to major in Women’s Studies because the government said so, and the government too was in bed with the patriarchy. There was something wrong with numbers and statistics too, since numbers were robbing us of our true subjective identities. Parents were wrong, because they raised children to conform to gender stereotypes.

The women I got to know were amazing. There was one girl who only dressed in black, said she was an anarchist-lesbian-feminist and that she was on the governments’ secret list of dangerous people. She had a piercing. I had never seen anyone with a piercing before. There was a girl who I ended up kissing once. I didn’t much like kissing a girl, but at least I was doing what I had set out to do: things I could never do at home.

Then, life happened. Friends of mine had children, and I understood that had to have something to do with salaries; you tend not to get much money when you stay at home with children for years on end. When those friends eventually did return to work, they didn’t put in the hours they used to, and the pay wasn’t was it used to be. Having children was also a reason why not too many women I knew even wanted to be in politics or executive positions; only a few of them, and a few of those not having children, were even remotely interested. Men looked at me and I liked it. Biology taught me there is testosterone and estrogen, and that those hormones influence behavior. Social constructivism turned out to be a bunch of books that sounded like they’d be written by drunk people, and turns out the government didn’t endorse majoring in drunk literature. I realized I liked numbers and statistics, though I weren’t very good at them. When I tried to get my nephew to play with dolls he threw them at me and cried until I gave him his cars back.

I still called myself a feminist. I advocated equal rights and opportunities for both men and women. At that time, military service was obligatory for all males in my country, but forbidden for women. I argued that was unfair on both sides, and now there are some changes happening. Not thanks to me, but I was part of those changes and those changes were part of my feminism. My old friends from the Women’s’ Studies didn’t all agree with me, but they respected me, and they never implied there was something wrong with my feminism. I was happy with my feminism for a long time.

Fast forward decades to GamerGate. Again I made contact with people who called themselves feminists. Only now I was told that my feminism was wrong. Apparently, it’s not feminism at all. Apparently, C.H. Sommers isn’t a feminism either, she is just saying that for publicity. Apparently, I am now calling for mens’ rights while advocating the rape of women. Apparently, I have internalized misogyny. Apparently, “equality feminism” is propaganda. Apparently, I am actually a man. They said a lot of other things too, but I’d rather forget most of it. It wasn’t pretty.

I fear my feminism is going extinct. I am sad that I ever wasted my time on feminism, if this is what a new generation has made feminism into. I have come to loathe the very word. I will continue to believe in equality. I will continue to advocate the things I have been advocating in my feminism, but at this point I can no longer bear to call it feminism. I am laying my feminism to rest. All I can hope is that it will behave like a gamer.

Good bye, old friend.

edit: luckily, I never majored in Womens’ Studies (it wasn’t a possibility - because government - and it wouldn’t have been my plan in any case). That was something I just did on the side: the biology-related thing is what I am working with right now. Thank you, parents.