Objectifying Men

I believe a lot of men objectify women and enjoy it. While it’s disgusting and discomforting, I sometimes wonder, how often do women objectify men? I find that it rarely happens. Even with the rise of the male romper trend (it’s not a good look lol), men in Speedo’s, shirtless men with ripped abs featured in various ads, in addition to male strip clubs and the whole Magic Mike thing (you know, the film with Channing Tatum who’s a dreamer by day and a stripper by night?) Oh, and how could I forget all those guys on the abc reality show, The Bachelorette? The sexualization of men does happen. I can only write from my perspective as a young woman, but most of the women I’ve been around don’t frequent male strip clubs, make inappropriate comments or gestures, or use improper pick up lines to get at guys the way some guys do with women. At best, I usually hear things like, he’s cute, he’s hot, he’s a babe, or he’s sexy. The same way I don’t like being objectified, I can’t imagine that guys would enjoy it, however, if the tables were turned, it’d be interesting to see what the reactions would be like.

While I can always appreciate an attractive guy, I believe in exercising self-control. Complimenting men is fine, but I’m not into the objectification thing. Even as a modern day feminist, I don’t think its okay to objectify anyone, male or female. There’s nothing wrong with finding someone attractive, so as long as things don’t go into the land of objectification.

The Day I Became A Kidney Donor

About a year ago, I had a dream my dad wanted to talk to our family about something serious. I wasn’t sure what he wanted to discuss, but I knew it was something I needed to prepare myself for. Around the time after I had this dream, I remember stopping by my parents place and sensing something was going on that they weren’t telling me. I tried to dismiss what I’d been feeling, but I couldn’t shake it. Something serious was happening. As I returned to my home after visiting them one day, I was in my kitchen washing dishes when a heaviness hit my heart like nothing I’d ever felt before. Something’s wrong with dad. That’s what that dream was about. God, what’s going on? As I continued washing dishes, I started crying and praying. Then in mid-spring, my dad held an unexpected family meeting that would change all our lives forever. He hesitated at first, and as his voice started cracking and he started crying, he said, “Well, I wanted to talk to ya’ll to tell you that I have kidney disea...

Thoughts From a Black Educator: Qualified, Credentialed, and Constantly Undermined

I’m a Black educator in my fifth year of teaching middle school English, and in my third as the 8th Grade English PLC (Professional Learning Community) Lead. And while I genuinely enjoy the purposeful work I get to do, seeing the growth of my scholars, and continuing to hone my skills in a content area I’ve loved since I was a little girl, I’ve had to confront some unpleasant experiences in this space. I’d been through much worse when I was an academic advisor at a Christian university. Racism, sexism, harassment, and workplace bullying were sadly norms in that environment. However, some of what I’ve experienced as a Black educator hasn’t been normal … It doesn’t seem normal to be the only Black educator in my department – in a predominantly Black school. One of my Black colleagues once said, “It should look like a Tyler Perry movie in here.” But it doesn’t. It didn’t feel normal being reprimanded in a meeting (during my second year of teaching) by an administrator who went in on...

The Day I Made A Will

When I was a teenager, I remember writing a list of my greatest fears. One of the things I listed was death. Looking back, it was an interesting item to list because inevitably, death is something each of us will face at some point in our lives. Even though it’s no longer a fear of mine, I understand why and how it’s not a comfortable thing for everyone to navigate. But regardless, this past summer I completed a detailed will. I signed it, had witnesses sign it, and got it notarized. As I was getting everything done, one of the witnesses looked at me and said, “You know, it’s just that you’re so young…” I’ve learned that death doesn’t care how young or how old you are. You can be five, fifteen, thirty, or fifty, and it’s still something that happens. Completing my will wasn’t scary. It gave me peace of mind having documentation in place stating my detailed directives and requests. A year ago, I had one of my kidneys removed. It was a surgery that came with risks that were presented cle...

Making Waves