PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

The culture that started it all


My best friend was raped her freshman year and was shamed into transferring into another school.

I met her my senior year.

Together, with our class of 18 kids, we fought against rape culture in our small town.

 

I wrote this for an event called the Truth Revolution;

A victim of sexual assault told me once that this thing called “rape culture” doesn’t exist

But tell me this

What do you call

The boy hiding his tears because his father told him to be a man

Because males shouldn't show emotion no matter what

Because this obviously won’t create problems like anger issues and emotional management

Because this couldn’t lead to something like domestic abuse, right?

What do you call

The girl who’s just been raped and told that “boys will be boys”

Who then shuts herself off from her friends and family because she’s now a slut for something she couldn’t control

Who then tells her child in the future that boys will be boys, because we can’t control those pesky, little rascals

Who then starts the cycle all over again

What do you call

The non binary individual who keeps getting asked why they don’t identify as a girl because “she” has boobs and a vagina

Or why they don’t identify as a boy because “he” has a penis

Or the gender fluid individual who is losing their friends because of how frustrated they are with the changes

And the pronouns

And the fact that it’s not normal?

But wait

Rape culture doesn’t exist. So we can’t talk about it right? I mean, it’s probably making some privileged kid uncomfortable anyways…

I mean it’s not like it has happened here?

In quiet, perfect little Petaluma?

It’s not like there are adults taking 12-13 year old girls from their classes to tell them they look like "hoochie mamas" when they wear leggings or show their shoulders

As parents, how would you feel knowing that someone told your child your beautiful child that they look like a hoochie mama

How would you feel knowing that your child has been told to put a sweater on to cover their shoulders in the 80 degree weather

How would you feel knowing that a lovely lady who helps run this very school believes pads are offensive.

It’s not like she uses them anyways.

It’s not like more than half of the world’s population uses them anyways. Right?

 

I performed this poem with my best friend.

Together, with our class of 18 kids, we got the middle school that previously attacked young girls for their apparel (calling them hoochie mamas) to

revise their dress code.

Together, we cried on our parting days, not because of the fact that we may never see each other again, but because we got the opportunity to work

together and learn about each other and make a change in our community.

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (0)

Comments are closed for this poem.