walk a mile...

I have what some may call irrational fears.

I have a lot of them but the biggest and most deep seated fear I have I am aware of on a daily basis.

walking to the train at night, getting into my car at night, waiting in my car at a stop light.  hanging out with men I don't know very well, being alone with men I do know fairly well. I live with the rape crisis hotline programmed into my phone... just in case.

I am reminded all of the time.  I am on the offense to not get raped or assulted.

and with statistics like: Every 2 minutes, someone in the U.S. is sexually assaulted.

 According to the U.S. Department of Justice's National Crime Victimization Survey -- the country's largest and most reliable crime study -- there were 248,300 sexual assaults in 2007 (the most recent data available).

There are 525,600 minutes in a non-leap year. That makes 31,536,000 seconds/year. so that comes out to 1 sexual assault every 127 seconds, or about 1 every 2 minutes.

that seems like the odds are not in my favor for avoiding it. and  60% of rape or sexual assult cases go unreported so the number is actually a lot more.

that seems like a pandemic problem.

and yet it remains largely a silent problem.

as a women, being afraid of walking to the train is a survival skill.

Last night I was at a stop light under a bridge and a car full of men pulled up next to me and began to make gestures at me. rolling down their window. trying to intimidate me.

I locked my doors.

I looked forward eyes on the light.

I began to feel my heart racing and my skin crawling.

it was the longest light of my life.

and its situations like that, that make me aware that my body is a liability.
and this is not the first time I have felt afraid and It most certainly wont be the last.

a few weeks ago Erin and I shot "walk a mile in her shoes" which is a walk to raise awareness for sexual assault.  I was waiting to do an interview that never happened with one of the walkers before I posted it, but decided to post it still incomplete.

My dad was also one of the walkers and I am really proud of him, I am so thankful for him and for other men who will stand and fight for women.  who understand that there is a dramatic and overwhelming problem when we live in a culture where the responsibility to not get raped falls on women and not on men to not rape .

if you have any questions about volunteering, walking a mile, or  just need some support call

the guardian angel home

815.729. 0930.

http://www.guardianangelhome.org/

to talk to a rape crisis advocate or just to save it in your phone in case you need to know your rights call:

1888.293.2080

fat talk

so like most women I grew up with the women around me saying things like.

" I look/feel so fat today"

"I need to go on a diet"

"she's gotten so fat since I seen her last"

and worst of all

"why is he with her, she's so fat"

I have heard these things enough in my life that when I hear them now I want to punch whoever says them in the mouth.

yesterday a women who I know photographs weddings said as her face book status "my fat butt needs a diet bad!"  and that anger mixed with pity began to rise in me all over again! not only because this women is out of her damn mind if she thinks she fat, but because there are women who she will photograph that are much bigger than her who may read that and then feel instantly bad about themselves.  

and this is the cycle that we women perpetuate. we learn our body image growing up from other people, and then we repeat it all the time.

one of my favorite moments in the last year with my mom was a few months ago. My mom like all of us struggles with her body image but she stood in the mirror this day and exclaimed "I am one sexy bitch!" and my heart burst with happiness and pride.

because the more my mom downs on her body the more I will worry about mine.  and the more she is proud of her body the more comfortable I am with mine. partly because we look so much alike.

Especially young girls. I write this all the time, but:

       80% of 13-year-olds have attempted to lose weight

young girls learn what it means to be a woman by the women around them, and growing up around body negativity breeds body negativity. It's really easy to blame the media, and Photoshop and beauty standards but what sort of damage are we doing when we learn from our moms, sisters and older women in our lives  that we are fat or need to diet, or that being fat makes us worthy of gossip or sideways glances.

I say we love our bodies right where they are even if we aren't happy with them and lets never put ourselves down because when we do we bring others down with us. and you will find its truly revolutionary to encourage other women as well as yourself, because our worth isn't measured in our weight.

Answers with Alicia 5.18

And now it's time for Answers from Alicia! the part of the blog where I make-up take questions and then answer them with my vast amount of wisdom and knowledge.

This week's question is:

Dear Alicia-

I am in high school and people call me a slut because, I try to ignore it but it makes me feel small and dirty.  Should I ignore it or confront people on it?

Sincerely

scathed in Schenectady  

Dear scathed in Schenectady ,

here is the deal. There is no such thing as a slut in my opinion. It's a made up word to shame women for their sexuality. Think about how many words you know for boys that are sex-positive. Pimp, Casanova, ladies man, champ, stud. All of these words elude to the fact that  boys and their sexuality is praised, but girls and their sexuality is something to be feared and shamed.  There isn't a word for boys like: slut, whore, or skank and so my first proposal is that as girls we throw these words out of our vocabulary. They don't exist. Because if boys are praised for their prowess the last thing we need to do is bring down other women for theirs. I was one of those girls in high school who had barely kissed a boy but somehow got labeled a slut, which I think had more to do with my attitude then my sexual experience which was none, and that label stuck with me most of my life and made me afraid of my sexuality for fear of looking like a "dirty- girl." I have made it a point to never put down other women no matter what their life choices are because it only perpetuates that old Idea that girls are sluts and boys are studs.  not to say that you shouldn't have standards or convictions when it comes to sex and your body, on the contrary being in control of your own sexuality means you decide when and what YOU are ok with.  it's just not fare to slut-shame other women  even if you don't agree with them. so my advice would be to hold your head high and find people who are loyal friends that  base their opinion on who you are not on what you do or don't do behind closed doors. and most importantly don't continue the cycle, remove all girl shaming words from your vocabulary and be revolutionary enough to encourage other women to love themselves and their bodies.

women eating project.

I came across a painting by Lee Price titled “”strawberry shortcake” while taking the train home from a long day of classes. The painting was of a woman in a bathtub eating strawberry shortcake and I instantly felt like the painting was of me. I have found myself numerous times in the bathtub eating sushi, or Resee’s, or my favorite red velvet cake. I usually do things like that when I want an escape and the more I talked to my friends the more I realized all of them had a food that would become a security blanket or a trap that catches your leg. Women and their relationship with what they eat, how they eat, and often times simply eating is nothing short of a myriad of complex emotions ranging from being nurtured, feeling betrayed, to an abusive battle.

I wanted to take Prices’ painting and apply it to real women. I feel photography offers a different way of seeing the concept because of the immediacy and reality often associated with photographs. I thought I could expound on the conversation started by Price while also paying homage to the work she has done in the realm of painting. It was interesting to me to see the differences in the mediums.

It also became a way to connect with other women. While photographing for this project most of the women who are photographed as the subjects of each one, opened up about their private struggles with their bodies and the food that they hate to love. It became a therapeutic experience for both me and the subjects to think about the battle and put it into context. Often times between magazines and media it seems completely normal and socially accepted for women to deprive themselves. With diet fads and tips in every women’s magazine it seems our job as women are to stay thin and when women aren’t worried about it they are perceived as lazy. It is common to eat three meals a day for most people and that’s three times a day some women stress about, crave, binge or deny the desire to feed their bodies. At least three times times a day women wonder if we are doing enough to be beautiful by the standards of our peers.

It’s those quiet moments that I wanted to capture, when you’re alone and you eat a whole pie by yourself with no one to judge and feel full and satisfied with the lingering thought that you will punish yourself later, but for now, you will just eat and enjoy it.

This is a project I am interested in continuing. If you would want to eat food and let me photograph you please let me know! 

hot mess

I am a hot mess.

I am not going to lie.

I have been shooting a ton of stuff for other people along with my finals, which we photo students at Columbia so aptly refer to it as “hell week”

My eyebrows look like 2 large caterpillars, my hair is a flat mess, my nails have been bitten to a stub, I have a stress pimple the size of a peanut, and I have been doing a project on eating which has in turn helped me to gain what I am guessing is a good 5 pounds.

But I am making work

I am being creative.

I am expressing my views

I am pushing myself

I am problem solving

I am stepping out on a limb

I am experimenting

I am taking risks 

I am learning from failures

I am learning more about the people around me.

I am engaging my friends

I am expanding my ideas

I am apart of a community of great artists

I am doing.

At the end of the day, stress pimples and doughnut weight are a small price to pay to feel empowered, alive, and satisfied.

And revolutionary self-love forgives messy appearances and red velvet cake binges when it means that you are happy doing things, rather than just looking the part. 

 

I know a woman who is strong...

I know this woman, and she is strong.
I am not talking about the emotional strong, not to say that emotional strength is not important as well, because it is.
But this woman,
She is physically strong.
She can lift things I can’t.
I asked her how she got to be so strong and she said by doing things.
I liked that.
She didn’t toil away at a gym for a better body; she got strong by living her life and doing things that required strength, and she trusted that she could do them.
This was a foreign concept to me in a lot of ways. When I imagine my body my last priority is its strength, because more often than not, I didn’t really think I needed it.
I thought back to my life and how whenever I carry something heavy usually someone offers to carry it for me.
And I let them.
How much stronger would I be if I carried my own lighting equipment and not my dad, or guy friends?
Not that you shouldn’t ask for help, or that people shouldn’t offer to help.
I am not really trying to have a philosophical debate on gender roles, or chivalry.
I just wish I could lift my light set with arms that are strong from the life I have lived.
That’s what I would like for me.
I am making it a point to carry heavy things; to not look for the easy way out because its there, but to pick up my cross in a certain sense
so that I can know
and grow
and show
the strength that I possess.