Am I Thelma, or Louise?

When I went to watch this movie, I remember thinking to myself, "hmmm what could this possibly be about?" But as I sat and watched the story unravel within the first scene and Louise ends up shooting and killing the man that began to rape Thelma, I automatically began to think of my best friend Emily Cody. I began to think, how far is TOO far? To what measure would I stand up for my best friend in the midst of her being attacked, preyed upon, or abused? I would have no problem say yelling at someone for treating her poorly, but would I shoot someone if they began to abuse her? It did not take too long for me to think about this question. My answer is yes. And here is why.

Even as women, who identify as feminists much of the time, it is easy to fall into the slope of the dangerous relationship. I have seen so many strong, confident women fall into relationships that are controlling in one aspect of another, or have been used and allured in by a man who was only seeking her physical gain. It was hard at points to watch the movie Thelma and Louise, because it was easy to see myself in both characters. I could see myself shooting someone who was raping my best friend, but I could also see myself getting roped into a horrible situation out of my naiveness. I do not know the correct the forever problem of why women feel the need for male approval. BUT I do know that watching this movie was liberating. It made me see two women who had made mistakes, but were not going to compromise on any level to lose themselves in the end. I hope someday I will be able to give a woman some advice of how to remain confident in herself without the need of a man's approval.

As the table turns

I could rant and rave for hours, days, weeks, about gender stereotyping in the media, gender biasing on our campus, gender discrimination in the church, and pretty much anything involving women's issues, but when it comes to race, I grow silent. Let me try to use this blog as an introduction to my thoughts on approaching race.

I stand in silence, in ignorance. I know how it feels to be a woman, at times like I will never be able to truly become my hopes, but I have no idea what it feels like to be an African American woman. I say this with a sincere desire to yearn to listen. Just as I crave my story as a woman to be heard, I truly need to hear the stories of people of different races.

As I write this, I even become nervous about the language I use. Approaching race is so sensitive to me, because as I can emphasize endlessly that I genuinely want to understand, I will never fully get it, because I am white, I have privilege. It kills me, and I hate it. I hate that although I did not choose to be white, just by the color of my skin, I have more privilege than I even realize.

When I watch TV or a movie, I grow defensive easily by offenses made at gender, but I have to apologetically admit that I do not do this nearly as much when race stereotyping occurs. When I make this statement, I am not referring to blatant racist jokes, but rather actions made by the "black token character," or occupations that the African American character plays, etc. If this was turned and I was watching a movie where all then women were in domestic roles-- I would notice.

I recognize that I have a lot to learn, and that is not an understatement. I am hoping to be challenged, for I believe it is in the uncomfortable that we truly grow.