My ancestors survived colonization and all I got was this lousy eye twitch

Moontime Warrior

I have a medical condition called blepharospasm.

In my body, this manifests as a muscle twitch in my eyebrow that gets worse when I’m anxious or under stress. The twitching turns into headaches and irritation that make it difficult for me to focus while reading or writing.

My eye twitch developed over the past year, surely unrelated to the misadventures of being an urban Indigenous woman on the Canadian prairies, travelling to Paris for an international climate conference, and attempting to challenge the racist structures of academic philosophy.

Botox is the only treatment available for blepharospasm (no, my face is not expressionless and yes, I can still raise my eyebrows), but it is not a permanent solution. So every few months, I go into a clinic that specializes in cosmetic surgery and injectables for treatment. In my experience, the clinic serves a clientele of apparently wealthy, sometimes older, almost entirely white women.


View original post 863 more words

Why It Matters More Than Ever That Women Make Music: Interview with Blisspop

Madame Gandhi | BLOG


Last month, I spoke with Kate Ross for Blisspop about why it matters more than ever that women make music, and why I felt compelled to make my debut EP Voices.

On your new EP, Voices, you’ve worked with artists like Merrill Garbus from tUnE-yArDs and you shift your sound throughout from hip-hop influences to blues. Can you tell us about the creative process that was involved with producing the Voices EP?

Well for me, the way I express myself is through my voice and the drums. I didn’t have much electronic sensibility in terms of how to make electronic music that I heard in my head, so I would team up with people who did have the skill set to either use Ableton or to be able to do proper sound design. I remember working with Anthony Saffery who was involved with Cornershop and Portugal. The Man

View original post 1,824 more words

Carrying The Feminine Mystique in my purse (I’m baaaaaaack)

In light of recent events, I have felt compelled to begin writing once again.

A decent amount of things have changed since I last wrote about my feelings, opinions, or insights of the surrounding world- specifically those regarding feminism and women’s rights.

Right now, I am simply in disbelief. I cannot wrap my mind around what is happening in the US. It feels like some shitty movie, where we have gone back in time and reversed the progress that has been painstakingly made over generations. Hard fought progress. Progress that should not be reversed.

To be honest, I thought that my minor in Women’s Studies would become obsolete. I thought that I would no longer have to be an angry feminist or need to proclaim myself as a feminist at all. I felt that I no longer needed to explain to those I dated why my minor is relevant or important. I thought that people had finally figured it out.

I have been proven wrong.

Oh so wrong.

How foolish of me to assume that one step forward wouldn’t mean five steps back.

In reading The Feminine Mystique, Sister Outsider, Not That Kind of Girl, How to Be a Woman, Female Chauvinist Pigs, The Beauty Myth, and so many more, it had never occurred to me that I would have to fight the fight that so many women before me have fought. I assumed that the war had already been won, and we were just waiting to celebrate our victory. I didn’t understand why my female professors held onto their rights and beliefs so strongly. As if they could be snatched from them at any moment. Now I understand why.

Those iconic black and white photos of women protesting, marching, and speaking with such conviction; images that I thought would not and should not ever repeat themselves.

I thought, “Finally, a world that I would want to bring a daughter into.”

I have been carrying The Feminine Mystique around with me all day in my purse. Hoping that it wards off any misogynistic vibes, or aids me in smashing the patriarchy.

I just bought one t-shirt, and two tank-tops exclaiming, “Women are strong as hell” and “Smash the patriarchy” and “Riots not diets.”

Now, I parooze Amazon hoping to get my hands on all the feminist books I didn’t get the chance to read in college.

Frantically, my mind races about all the extreme lengths I might have to go to to protect my rights, and the rights of all women, people of color, my LGBTQ brothers and sisters, and other minorities. But one thing I do remember from one of my women’s studies classes is this: women make up about 52% of the world’s population. We are the majority, NOT the minority. We cannot be divided anymore. We are female, we are strong, we are the majority, we are the resistance.

Stay woke my friends, stay woke.




American Eagle Thinks Body Positivity is a Joke — Dances With Fat

Several weeks ago Aerie, a subsidiary of American Eagle Outfitters, launched a series of videos that they described as a body positive approach to marketing men’s underwear. I was excited to see them making their work more inclusive, I even have a half-finished blog in my drafts about it. Unfortunately that draft will never see […]

via American Eagle Thinks Body Positivity is a Joke — Dances With Fat

Why Does the US Women’s Soccer Team Earn Less than the Men’s? — Fit Is a Feminist Issue

A couple of weeks ago, members of the US Women’s Soccer team launched a federal discrimination complaint against the United States Soccer Association. According to The Boston Globe: The disparities, according to documents given to the commission, are found throughout their compensation, from base pay to bonus to per-diem travel. Female players on the national […]

via Why Does the US Women’s Soccer Team Earn Less than the Men’s? — Fit Is a Feminist Issue

Fifty years ago, Bobbi Gibb was a bandit, and now she’s a legend — Fit and Feminist

In 1966, Bobbi Gibb became the first woman to run the Boston Marathon. I can’t say officially, because she did this at a time when women were not permitted to run the Boston Marathon. She had applied but she was told not only that women weren’t allowed, but that they weren’t “physiologically capable.” (LOL) But […]

via Fifty years ago, Bobbi Gibb was a bandit, and now she’s a legend — Fit and Feminist

Real Dads Let Their Sons Do Their Makeup

Raising My Rainbow

For years, my son has been using my wife’s makeup to give his Barbie dolls makeovers and put makeup on a life-size mannequin head he got for Christmas a while back. Then he started doing my wife’s makeup regularly, so I figured it was inevitable that I would be his next victim.

IMG_9811A couple of years ago, C.J. asked if I would allow him to do my makeup. Of course I said yes. Why wouldn’t I? Why wouldn’t I want to be a part of something that brings joy to my son’s life?

If I said no to something as trivial as allowing him to paint my face, what would I be teaching him?

I’d be teaching him that playing dress-up or giving his dad a makeover is something to be ashamed of or something to hide. I don’t want to teach him that.

I want to teach him that…

View original post 369 more words