Laura Jean, Human Bean. 20 in Canada.
I study literature, dance, make jewelry, and love school. We can probably be friends.
Mid-calf leggings when I haven’t shaved in like 8 days (I KEEP FORGETTING) maybe wasn’t the best idea I’ve had so far today.
One of my best boys is graduating this Sunday and so I made him a handy thing to use whenever people ask “And what do you plan on doing with that?” Which is still every other day of my life, even a year after getting my diploma.
bunnyyyy
also bunny
Matthew and I’s new favourite pastime is entering “fluffy (insert any animal here)” into google images and laughing like maniacs. Some highlights include fluffy chicken, fluffy owls, and fluffy cow.
The place I was dying to get a job at when i first came back to BC less than a month ago is hiring again. Except this time, I’m not looking. And I am rather enjoying my job, although I have less hours than I would have there and it’s not as laid back and the customers aren’t as cool.
Poop.
Guys I am a maid of honor at my best friend’s wedding this is one of the most exciting things that has ever happened to me ever omg.
the thing that always bugged me about that even in elementary school was that we only have 2 official languages I mean if a country was truly “multicultural” you’d think it’d extend to official languages too. Like, at least 4.
True. We have signs here that are in English and Punjabi and racist shitheads are always commenting on how apparently “wrong” that is because according to them, anyone who comes to Canada should learn to speak fluently in English or they shouldn’t be allowed to stay, and if there’s a second language on the signs it should be French (lol even though there are like no French-Canadians in BC). It’s really really gross and astonishing how loud and direct these people are with this bullshit.
Plus we literally stole this country and slaughtered the masses that we here before us and we still refuse to treat them well, I mean come on that is the farthest thing from acceptance.
Canada being “multicultural” is the biggest lie elementary school ever told us.
The question is how we react to this great prejudice against women. The rule of law and social activism certainly are crucial. But no matter how strong the social structure, there is always that cheek-slapped moment when you are alone with the anti-woman prejudice: the joke, the leer, the disregard, the invisibility, the inescapable fact that the moment you walk through the door you are seen as lesser, no matter what your credentials.
I have no guidance for women who want to rise through the ranks into technical management. I have led a peripatetic life, moving on when a project was done or the next thing intrigued me.
And I am not advising younger women (or any woman) to tough it out. You can lash back, which I have done too often and which has rarely served me well. You can quit and look for other jobs, which is sometimes a very good idea.
But the prejudice will follow you. What will save you is tacking into the love of the work, into the desire that brought you there in the first place. This creates a suspension of time, opens a spacious room of your own in which you can walk around and consider your response. Staring prejudice in the face imposes a cruel discipline: to structure your anger, to achieve a certain dignity, an angry dignity.
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