I could burn them where they stand

I’ve been a little sceptical of claims that Sanders is more feminist than Clinton because of that one time he was down for equal rights. I’m sure he’s a great bloke, but Clinton’s got feminist cred. Long term feminist cred.

You don’t tell them to fuck off. You let them test you to see if you’re an angry feminist, and you pass the test by letting them insult you to your face and not getting angry. Because after everything you’ve done, everything you’ve fought for, that’s still what most men want to know. They want to know they can insult you and get away with it. They won’t work with you if they can’t….

….I know this is true, not just in politics, but everywhere in the world. That women can never be seen as “the most qualified person,” even when they’re more qualified than men, because people keep asking us these fucking questions, the ones they don’t ask men, about whether our gender would prevent us from doing the work (source.)

More importantly, I’ve stopped just smiling and ignoring those sorts of provocative questions. On the weekend a particularly sexist musician tried to get a rise out of me with a deliberately provocative line. I said, with an iron fierceness, “We don’t make those sorts of jokes here.” And when he tried to pass the ball to his bloke mates to get a laugh from them, I intercepted and repeated my point: “We don’t make those jokes. We do NOT make those jokes here. I’m getting hard on this shit. Understand, bros?” and I raised my eyebrows and looked them all in they eye. I was the ultimate feminist killjoy. And then later on, when he tried it again, I pulled him up on his shit. And I’ll be making I’ve made a complaint about him.
And those younger musicians who like to get on the drink at gigs and can’t do their job because they’re too pissed? Yes, I did give them a telling off. Yes, I am a bloody sour, humourless killjoy bitch. And they’re lazy, drunken fools, while I’m a fully fit, seriously healthy arse kicker. And I am not afraid to give them a telling off or kick them out. I don’t give a fuck how good a musician they are.

I am that angry femmostroppo. And I still do twice as good a job as a man who does half as much work as I do in the same job. Because women have to. And I know there are a couple of hundred dancers standing behind me, ready to get my back.

Scared the pants off me at first, to do this. But now I just figure yolo. Bitches get shit done. And I’ve had all those years experience in academia, where the highest profile people in my profession were arsehole headkickers. I’m prepared to kick heads for the sisterhood. And I don’t think those men realise just how deep the rage goes. I’ve got a lifetime of harassment and impediments to fuel this rage. And they should thank their lucky stars they get away with some sharp wit and a cold, fierce line in Aussie humour.
Because I could burn them where they stand.

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