Why do we accept sexist undertones in our humor, language and actions?

A piece I had written on sexist language and behavior for thenewsminute.com

Why do we accept sexist undertones in our humor, language and actions?.

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Freedom, Indivisible

Inspiration: An essay by Nelson Mandela given beneath the poem.

O, But I cannot have just a little.
I want my freedom served in whole.
Today – I want those fleeting, simple joys;
My own selfish, small experiences;
I want to throw my hair back on the grass,
Chase broken moonlight in the sea.

Then when I reach those moments in life,
Where roads go hither and thither,
I will journey on, as I fancy.
You can’t gift me a timeline, nor chart me a path.
I do not live your stories, I lead in my own.
If it hasn’t been done before,
Well, I dare say that was why I was born.

And I am not the only pebble lying around.
All those around me, they need their dignity.
The chains that drag them down,
They hold my spirit in bonds.
Those notions of power,
Those accomplices of status quo,
They cage in gilded tradition, half of humanity.

But on a bright morning soon, we shall break with those lies
And walk with purpose to fulfill our varied lives.
And when I am old and slightly bored,
I hope I can also recount, to an inquisitive soul–
The tale of how you broke, narrow prejudice’s back
And strode forth to freedom – indivisible and whole.

Nelson Mandela – Freedom is Indivisible

I was not born with a hunger to be free. I was born free-free in every way that I could know. Free to run in the fields near my mother’s hut, free to swim in the clear stream that ran through my village, free to roast mealies under the stars and ride the broad backs of slow-moving bulls. As long as I obeyed my mother and father and abided by the customs of my tribe, I was not troubled by the laws of man or God.

It was only when I began to learn that my boyhood freedom was an illusion, when I discovered as a young man that my freedom had already been taken from me, that I began to hunger for it. At first, as a student, I wanted freedom only for myself, the transitory freedoms of being able to stay out at night, read what I pleased, and go where I chose. Later, as a young man in Johannesburg, I yearned for the basic and honorable freedoms of achieving my potential, or earning my keep, of marrying and having a family-the freedom not to be obstructed in a lawful life.

But then I slowly saw that not only was I not free, but my brothers and sisters were not free. I saw that it was not just my freedom that was curtailed, but the freedom of everyone who looked like I did. […] That is when the hunger for my own freedom became the greater hunger for the freedom of my people. It was this desire for the freedom of my people to live their lives with dignity and self-respect that animated my life, that transformed a frightened young man into a bold one, that drove a law-abiding attorney to become a criminal, that turned a family-loving husband into a man without a home, that forced a life-loving man to live like a monk. I am no more virtuous or self-sacrificing than the next man, but I found that I could not even enjoy the poor and limited freedoms I was allowed when I knew my people were not free. Freedom is indivisible; the chains on any one of my people were the chains on all of them, the chains on all of my people were the chains on me.

It was during those long and lonely years that my hunger for the freedom of my own people became a hunger for the freedom of all people, white and black. I knew as well as I knew anything that the oppressor must be liberated just as surely as the oppressed. A man who takes away another man’s freedom is a prisoner of hatred, he is locked behind the bars of prejudice and narrow-mindedness. I am not truly free if I am taking away someone else’s freedom, just as surely as I am not free when my freedom is taken from me. The oppressed and the oppressor alike are robbed of their humanity.

When I walked out of prison, that was my mission, to liberate the oppressed and the oppressor both. Some say that has now been achieved. But I know that that is not the case. The truth is that we are not yet free; we have merely achieved the freedom to be free, the right not to be oppressed. We have not taken the final step of our journey, but the first step on a longer and even more difficult road. For to be free is not merely to cast off one’s chains, but to live in a way that respects and enhances the freedom of others. The true test of our devotion to freedom is just beginning.

I have walked that long road to freedom. I have tried not to falter; I have made missteps along the way. But I have discovered the secret that after climbing a great hill, one only finds that there are many more hills to climb. I have taken a moment here to rest, to steal a view of the glorious vista that surrounds me, to look back on the distance I have come. But I can rest only for a moment, for with freedom comes responsibilities, and I dare not linger, for my long walk is not yet ended.