Fried rice, bok choy, roasted eggplant, and oxtail soup – the dinner table is overflowing with a feast of delicious foods that my eyes challenge my stomach to intake. I’m an eight year old girl, and my sister four, but my appetite is a ruthless, angsty 13-year old boy. My sister picks at her tofu and half bowl of unfinished noodles whining about being full while my dad piles more food onto my plate. Voices from around the dining table chime in to remind us that post-consumer waste is the most blasphemous sin of all.
“Finish all the food in your bowl.” “Remember, there are children starving in Africa and we don’t want to waste any of it.” “No leaving the table until every last grain of rice is eaten.”
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Communal distrust towards government, inequality through environmental injustice, and a fighting coalition for basic rights – these classic and individual tales that have been tirelessly repeated in history finally coagulated to become the Flint Water Crisis in 2014. The Flint Water Crisis is a case where the public water supply wasn’t up to federal regulation standards and the city didn’t take action accordingly. The water chemistry and treatment resulted in lead poisoning and toxicity from chemicals, particularly in young children, but adults included. Lasting from April 2014 to December of 2015 the water contamination elevated the blood lead levels of the population causing adverse health effects ranging from decrease in intelligence, creativity, and behavior to causing rashes, E. coli breakouts, and hair loss for others (Masten 2016). Even one woman named Nakiya Wakes, as seen in the documentary on the Flint crisis, Nor any Drop to Drink, suffered multiple miscarriages and witnessed significant behavioral issues in her young and developing son.
How do I even begin…how do I even begin to describe how I deceived myself into accepting my life experiences as normal and that it was just another thing that came with puberty? To be honest I can’t even remember the first time I experienced sexual harassment, I just learned to expect and accept it when I started wearing makeup, when I transitioned from a girl to a woman in the eyes of the world, when I unknowingly hit the shallow standards and tolerable age to start being admired by all sorts of men. If you know me well, I’ve probably told you that I don’t want to get married or that I hate guys, but I was not born this way; no, I am a product of conditioning. You see, naturally I believe I should be attracted to men but how can I when the weak links of the male population have scarred me into disgust, hatred and a deeply engrained mentality to be skeptical of every male interaction and compliment, to question every motive behind nice guys. Deep deep deep down inside I may entertain the possibility of marriage one day, but that thought won’t be seeing the light of day anytime soon, at least not while I hold onto my own form of self-defence (at the same time is also the full embodiment of self-sabotage) that is pessimism. I think this will be healthy for me to share some things of my heart and also healthy for those who feel this same way but also healthy for those who can’t relate or are on the outside to provoke some thoughts and discussion.
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