NYU's Feminist Society: Feminist Soup Vol. 1

NYU’s Feminist Society

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SIRENA BEA The Fettish They wonder why women take longer in the bathroom, I guess we like the company of others

You’ll find me in the corner plucking my eyebrows, under the angry fluorescent lights who are for now a brief but callous friend revealing the renegade hair growing beneath my chin and between my brows. My elbows resting down on the wet countertops that others did not mind to clean up themselves, while trying to use my left foot to remove the the toilet paper stuck to my right shoe, casually talking to the voice behind me in the stall asking if I have an extra tampon

I’d continue to reach into my bag and search through the mountainous clutter of receipts, rolled up into a ball, being tossed back and forth, then cut my self on some plastic from a cap off of an Angry orchard crisp apple beer I drank with a friend the night before and finally amongst the chocolate chip cookie crumbs I find my beaker, stolen from the university lab.

ARD-GALATI I’d think about how much I hate the way my hair grows sideways and curls from the after breeze of heat coming off of the hand dryer, it is removed slowly between the tweezers, a fish caught with bate, a feeling strangely satisfying in the act, enough to turn my head to see if my delight has been witnessed by another. Over the course of time, I feel that I have accumulated enough facial hair to have weaved myself a quilt, wondering just how much I might have accumulated if I had saved all the hair in a jar.

Unlike most things in my life, they knock before entering, each night I feel them spreading from between my pores and growing from roots within my skin, creating a ladder from brow to brow, enough to cover a horse huff. It revolts me.

(and it excites me) Pluck!

Double Standards in the Rap Game

Youtube

“WAP” by Cardi B, featuring Megan Thee Stallion, was the song of 2020, spending three weeks

use, and other taboo topics.

Also, it is an avenue for artists to shine a light on current situations in

as the number one single on the Billboard Top 100. Even with the critical acclaim for its sex-positive message, there was massive outrage for its provocative lyrics and the subject matter. Rap is my favorite music genre, and “WAP” is no different than any other song about the topic of sex. Since the inception of rap in the mainstream in the 1980s, hip hop has been controversial. Rap presents, and often glorifies, violence, sex, drug

their communities, for example, Kendrick Lamar’s To Pimp a Butterfly discussing institutional discrimination, racial inequality, and social activism.

The male-dominated industry produces misogynistic lyrics and attitudes and creates hypersexualized images of women.

The criticism is not about the lyrics of WAP, but that two female rappers openly and powerfully discuss their femininity and sexuality. It goes

against traditional ideas of patriarchy within the rap industry.

Songs like “Lollipop” by Lil Wayne, “Candy Shop” by 50 Cent, and “Mood Swings” by Pop Smoke talk about sex but hardly received any criticism. Those songs characterize women as sexual objects using derogatory terms. We defend it as “locker room” talk and saying boys will be boys. Gender does not have anything to do with this. If Cardi B & Megan Thee Stallion are bad influences for young girls, then male rappers are more detrimental to young boys with their lyrics about drugs, sex, and gang violence. Listeners have the power to hold artists accountable for their messaging in order to continue the legacy of a precious art form while offering inclusivity for all genders.

R Y A N C A R N E Y

SABRINA CH

A Reflecti

HOUDHARY

ive Space

What Brand of Toilet Paper Does Paris Hilton Use? “What brand of toilet paper do you think Paris Hilton uses?” An off-handed question, I asked thinking it would spark funny conversation about celebrities, bathroom tissue, and the early 2000s. “I don’t think Paris Hilton actually exists when no one is looking at her... she just disappears,” said the guy I was trying to start conversation with. I suddenly realized that my question wasn’t going to turn into a zany debate concerning Charmin versus Cottonelle.

I couldn’t understand why the comment made me uncomfortable, but I justified his comment because Paris Hilton’s public persona largely stems from her interactions with the paparazzi.

It wasn’t until later when I was watching one of my favorite comfort movies that I realized why his comment upset me. Halfway through “500 Days of Summer” I asked myself, “do men know that women exist when they’re not

being looking at?”

The question was unsettling, so in an effort to forget, I switched to another one of my old favorites “She’s All That” which only exacerbated the problem. As I scrolled through movies on Netflix I realized that if I wanted to avoid the question I had to rule out most rom-coms made before the year 2010 or any adaptations of “Pygmalion”. Attempting once more to ignore my concerns I pressed play on “He’s Just Not That Into You.” I initially chose it because it reminded me of when I would stay home sick from school and watch movies on cable all day – it brought up many questions.

Questions such as: why do all women in movies wake up with a full-face of makeup? Why don’t we ever learn the backstories of female side characters? Why are women portrayed as overbearing for just wanting to be respected?

And why would anyone cheat on Jennifer Connelly? After asking

myself these questions I was finally able to answer my initial query regarding whether or not men know women exist when we aren’t serving them.

I concluded that men (or at the very least men in Hollywood) do not know that women actually exist beyond the male gaze. Realizing that men think women live for the sole purpose of pleasing them clarified my previous questions about women in Hollywood. Of course, men think we sleep with makeup on, why wouldn’t we want to clog our pores to shield male eyes from the atrocity of our naked faces? Why would female side-characters need backstories if they are only important in regards to male characters? Why should women ask for a morsel of respect from men when it is evident that women only exist because of and for the pleasure of men?

Although I still don’t understand why anyone would cheat on Jennifer Connelly, I finally understood via cinema and early 2000s icons, that men often do not believe women exist for reasons other than male pleasure. I pondered how I could combat this, and I could not come up with any solutions, so instead I finished the rest of “He’s Just Not That Into You” and went to bed without washing my face, only to wake up the next morning in a full face of makeup realizing that I didn’t know if I exist without the male gaze.

S A I G E G I P S O N

MAYA ME A Day in the Life of Jane Doe Why do I always want to shout?

It’s as if cotton is always stuffed in my mouthCotton-mouth. Co-Coughing to make people aware that I’m

Uncomfortable.

The constant stares and looks up and down Up and down and snaking all around As if memorizing my shape. Boring holes into my skin, only growing stronger, I want to sarcastically say, “Take a picture it’ll last longer” But I’m afraid they’ll believe me, Snap a pic without my consent Because they can’t comprehend, Everything’s “just a joke, chill, don’t be such a pussy.”

So I do nothing and try to close my eyes.

Feeling less like a person and more like a mannequin to admire, a hunk of meat to buy According to my relatives, I’m late to the altar and already rotting away Fleas swarm around my head, whispering to get it over with already.

But what I don’t say is that I’d rather die than get married Because saying “I do” now would be more like getting buried.

But I stay quiet, obedient, and silent, like a clogged-up water spout Meanwhile, I’m always hearing, “Victoria, your secret’s out,” Still, why is it a secret that I wear a bra?

If I didn’t wear one, it’d be like breaking the law.

EHRARA Even when I feel like really crying out, clutching my invisible rosary beads, Begging for relief internally as goblins are dancing on my ovaries, A look from my mother, boss, or teacher tells me not to say anything about my period It’s bloody and gross and should be hidden, because it’s hideous I’m hideous.

A scream nearly claws its way out of my throat But I block the blow and choose to choke, Shove down what’s trying to escape my internal volcano The inside of my heart is a raging inferno.

I don’t know what I’m waiting for, the right place or time The perfect moment, that just-right rhyme But one day soon I will choose to roar out my war-cry Rip out the gag and charge unafraid into the night.

So I won’t wrap this up in a pretty little bow, Because even though it feels like I can’t, I can say no This is my reality, and I’m sure life for other girls too, Although it’s ugly, you can’t deny the truth.

But it doesn’t have to be this way, it’s not written in stone There are opportunities for change, for growth.

We can teach our daughters and sons our new doctrine, Instead of teaching them to er on the side of caution, the old ways can be forgotten, And we can bring in the new dawn.

Her Name in Headlines

Reuters

There they are, standing on a big stage, their hand outstretched receiving congratulations for their innovative work. A glossy plaque is extended towards them and cameras flash as they approach a podium to say a few words of thanks.

Are you picturing a woman?

In October of 2020 the Washington Post published the headline “2 women win Nobel Prize in Chemistry for gene-editing method”. As the insights of Feminism permeate our society, we have begun to make a greater effort to recognize the achievements of women that have so long been swept under the

rug or have been taken credit for by a man. However, in the attempts to properly acknowledge the accomplishments of various women, headlines seemingly erase the individual behind the success.

Winning a Nobel Prize isn’t impressive because the recipient may have a vagina, the award is given to individuals whose work and discoveries have great implications for human-kind. The headline above is just one of countless others that drip unintended sexist patronization.

Have you ever read a headline saying “Two Men Awarded Nobel Prize”? Excluding the names of

women gives the impression that we should be shocked or celebrating that a woman is competent. Describing a genius as just an obscure woman fails to acknowledge that her accomplishments are not attributed to her gender, but to her brains and efforts.

It’s true that we should recognize that acknowledging a woman’s achievements in spite of their pronouns is revolutionary, but society’s historical failures should not detract from her work or expertise. Two women did not win the Nobel Prize, Dr. Jennifer Doudna and Dr. Emmanuelle Carpenter did.

The awe of women making headlines should not be because we’re still surprised that a woman can do exemplary work outside the home. We have long known there is nothing a woman can’t do when given the right tools and access to opportunities. It’s about time we start recognizing the genius of women, but not as their pronouns, as the person most qualified in their field. Her name should be in the headline.

F R A N C E S C A S E N I

TASFIA B behold do you remember when I gave you my body? that was when I didn’t realize just how amazing it is. and I’ll admit it, she’s a beautiful body. but she’s also nothing without her mind. this body exists this body dances this body fights with my spirit and soul. so for anyone who wants it, for the first time or for more, they’re only allowed to get it if they love it, and her, as a whole.

BASHAR To My Mother We used to force each other to climb onto pedestals that were never meant to carry the weight of our lives.

We wanted everything from each other until those pedestals collapsed from the pressure, and then we just held each other and cried.

I don’t want to remember what it was like before, when I couldn’t tell you what was in my heart, when you couldn’t tell me what you were really fighting for.

The greatest victory of these past few years has been being able to lay our armor down and cease the battle, Once and for all.

After all, with everything I’ve ever wanted to do, I never wanted to be there without you.

Join NYU’s Feminist Society! nyufeministsociety A special thanks to all our contributors!

Sirena Beard-Galati ..................................... poetry Ryan Carney .............................................. opinion Sabrina Choudhary ............................ photography Saige Gipson ............................................. opinion Maya Mehrara ............................................. poetry Francesca Seni .............................. opinion, design Tasfia Bashar ............................................... poetry