Today, I went to work. Because I don't have any extra days to take off, and couldn't have taken off today anyway, because of our work situation. I had intended to wear red, but was in walking zombie mode when getting dressed this morning, and completely forgot. Oh well, at least I had a red bracelet on ...
BUT - I have a job, even if it is one with issues. I get a paycheck once a month, and since my husband is also employed, I get decent health insurance through his work. I actually am lucky enough to have that choice.
Not every woman has anything close to that, and yet there were still people who asked, "Well then, when is International Men's Day?" (My response would be every day, but maybe that's just me.)
We are living in a tenuous time, when poor women are being even more and more marginalized.* Many of those that write the laws and pass those same laws are anxious to put the poor in their place, to stop them from being so lazy, or from playing the system.
Women are just so often not seen as that important or as useful, especially once they have provided children (preferably male, to "carry on the name"), and when they stand up for themselves, the criticism is rampant.
You know what? There are some women who are lazy. There are some women who try to play the system. There are some women who are only ever looking out for themselves.
Just like some men - wait, WHAT???!!!
I hope enough people of every race, gender, and persuasion will keep fighting and keep annoying those in power.
*as are men and children, but I am focusing on International Women's Day here.
On a kinda/sorta/maybe-not-really-related note, the other day, an acquaintance of mine who is about a year older than I am, was telling me how she found a great pair of new jeans over the weekend, and was going to wear them out to dinner with her friends this week. She posted a picture of herself and her friends on Instagram, and her new (and might I add expensive) jeans, were the kind that are ripped and torn. When she asked me if I'd seen it and I said yes, she asked me what I thought of the jeans. I said they looked fine (and they did, she looked nice enough). She asked me why I never wear ripped jeans, since they are in style.
And I had to tell her that she will likely never see me in ripped jeans, if I can help it. And though she assumed it was because I thought I was too old to wear them, that's not really the reason.
When I was growing up, we were poor. As in, really poor. But my parents always took pride in the fact that we were always clean, and that our clothes were always not just clean but presentable in spite of circumstances. People who wore ripped clothing back then were poor people, and my parents always said that just because we *were* poor, we didn't have to *look* poor. Our clothes were mended if they ripped or torn.
So even though I know that things are different today, there is still a huge disconnect for me.
As in, these women are poor:
But these women are stylish:
And they are all wearing ripped jeans ...
Nope, I can't.