He didn't even know me.
he passed me by like a river's torrent
smoothly, he grumbled, "Nice shirt FAG!"
I gave a quick glance over my shoulder.
He turned back and with the most horrid
look on his face he remarked,
"yeah, you queer."
I must admit, it was a pretty nice shirt.
it was a vermilion red shirt
with black letters boldly across my chest.
It read, "THIS IS WHAT A FEMINIST LOOKS LIKE."
After the quick release of anger, my fist loosened.
My body weight shifted toward his direction
so that I may let him know how incorrect
and how annoyingly comfortable he was in his bigotry.
My lips opened--with an unrelenting force-
A tremendous purge of energy,
not any energy built up from within me,
but from generations and millennia
of mothers, daughters, wives, intellectuals, politicians, , writers,
would-be-writers, artists, musicians, soldiers, philosophers,
medicine practitioners, yogis, fire fighters, officers,
lawyers, athletes, activists, unborn children, teachers, and victims!
I kindly thanked him,
but did not let him walk any further without knowing that
his disparaging remarks were the very essence of ignorance
that not only have women burdened the brunt of our brutality
but have suffered long enough in our shameless stupidity.
His indoctrination seemed much like mine once was.
I too am guilty of saying what I thought were sly remarks,
but were the ugliest comments a human being could say to another.
"Feminism," I said, "is about equality for all,
so if you think I am "queer" for wanting equal rights
for every human being no matter their faults or differences
then label me a "queer"
call me a "dike"
call me a "liberal"
call me a "spick"
call me a "kike"
call me a "nigger"
call me a "chink"
call me a "raghead"
call me hopeful
and that I am guilty of being,
because I hope that some day
we can peacefully coexist
and share laughter and happiness
as one Human Race."
He shuddered in confusion.
If nothing else,
he now knows what a feminist looks like
and what we are well capable of!