Every Tuesday you become my daughter, we schlep around New York to various activities and classes you so enthusiastically tackle. At 7 years old I admire your curiosity and appetite for knowledge, with an innocence and idealism that radiates from your very being, illuminating my world and instilling within me optimism for future generations.
On our way down 2nd avenue to your swimming lesson, hand held tightly in mine, eyes forever wandering the streets taking in the sights of New York, telling me about the Harlem Renaissance and asking me "Do you know Billie Holiday? What about Duke Ellington?" an old man passing by looked you up and down and meowed at you. It took everything in me not to curse him out in front of you or karate chop him in the throat. Instead, we walked away, back straight, shoulders strong, head in the air like a queen; ignoring his indecency. You looked up at me with your beautiful brown eyes and asked "How'd he know I like cats?" Taken aback by your innocence and seething inside, I told you "He doesn't know what you like or care what you like, he's just being a creep."
This is your indoctrination into a culture that devalues women. Into a culture where men have the last word, even after they've mutilated and stolen your voice. A culture where white male privilege surpasses justice and justifies its crimes. A culture where 98% of rapists walk free, remorseless and clueless of the irreversible harm they have done to another being. A culture where you are blamed for what you drink, what you wear, what time of the day you decide to walk. A culture that sympathizes with rapists because THEIR lives are ruined. I'm sorry you have been born into a racist, classist, and sexist society that informs that you are worthless. I'm sorry you have been born into a society that measures masculinity in catcalls and the denigration of women. I’m sorry some people only feel whole when they cut you down, when they desecrate your worth and disregard your humanity. I'm sorry that this is far from the last time someone will make you feel weak, unimportant, consumed and exposed.
I want to teach you that it's better to not engage, sometimes it will be hard to control your rage and you will scream back at the men in the street. This is perfectly fine, you can even use my favorite “drop dead” line. Don't let the world teach you that your anger is “unbecoming of a lady,” they are just trying to silence you and force you into submission. You have a voice and you're entitled to use it. I found my voice through your hungry listening, through your idolization and love. I need you as much as you need me. We are a sisterhood, you and me and all women across the world, transcendent of race, class, and whatever we have or don’t have between our legs. You have an innate understanding of this, and I never want you to lose that even when people try to tell you different.
At your age I was already broken, someone consciously chose to kill my spirit before I even got to test out my wings. We could dwell on the injustice but I am no longer giving him control of the narrative. It is my turn to speak, it is my turn to own my pain and use what I’ve learned to help women and girls recognize their power, their voice. You, like so many of your friends who we have endless play dates with, are fierce and fiery and ready to fight to carve out a place in the world. My wish for you girls is to cultivate this energy and let nothing stop you, be loud and wild and whoever you choose to be.
You, my love, my little peanut, you are the future.
Lastly, I want to reiterate the words of a fellow survivor who has given me strength and courage, I hold her words close to my heart and sincerely extend them to all who could use their comfort: To girls everywhere, I am with you.
