“I wonder how Faulkner would feel about being sandwiched between Jeffrey Eugenides “Middlesex” and Leslie Feinberg’s “Stone Butch Blues” on my bookshelf.”
— My friend’s status on Facebook today.
“Some days, the bravest thing we do is get out of bed. Sometimes it takes all the courage in our tiny beating hearts to button up the shirt that makes us feel good, to meet our own eyes in the mirror. Sometimes we forget to congratulate ourselves for the incredible victories we achieve every single day, like walking to work, or cleaning our rooms, or choosing to stay under the covers and watch our favorite show. We are survivors. That means that we got through the very worst, that we are still alive and we will go on being alive. That means that the very fact we are living our lives is a beautiful and precious thing.”
“You won’t allow me to go to school.
I won’t become a doctor.
One day you will be sick.”
Poem written by an 11 year old Afghan girl
This poem was recorded in a NYT magazine article about female underground poetry groups in Afghanistan. An amazing article about the ways in which women are using a traditional two line poetry form to express their resistance to male oppression, their feelings about love (considered blasphemous), and their doubts about religion.
Here’s the link
oh my gosh