Thursday, 7 March 2013

Blatant sexism that universities aren't even ashamed about

I've been feeding my veracious desire for excellent blogs with Rarely Wears Lipstick recently, and I came across this post which led to this article on the treatment of female students at freshers-week at Universities in, most western countries, I would surmise. To sum up both articles, student unions at Uni's have begun running themed parties to allow students to get to know each other. Which is all fine and dandy but it's not so brilliant if the parties have themes like 'COEs and Corporate Hoes', 'Slag'n'drag', 'Geeks and Sluts' or 'Pimps and Hoes'. I won't go into anymore detail regarding what the two linked pieces because you should really go read them and these ladies certainly know more about the subject than I do.

What this post is for is just to convey my mind blowing level nausea. Whilst reading these I was filled with such a sense of horror and disgust that I teared up. Genuine fucking tears. I kid you not. It's not just that I was filled with a heart wrenching sorrow for my fellow women that have been subjected to the predatory and downright terrifying advances of guys at these so called 'parties', but I was momentarily filled with a despair for today's society so deep that I felt like a bottomless well of cold blackness had opened up inside my heart.

Now I could wax poetic forever more, but that's really not really the point. After an eight hour plus day of dealing with immature, cocky little dicks at my college who think they're hilarious making casually racist and sexist jokes I've kind of had it. Not that I don't come to feel like this pretty much every time I leave the house, it's just that this time is different. I've always felt that any sexual harassment I suffer through is a temporary thing, in the past. Hopefully momentary. But now I have this huge looming thing in my future. Years of university where there's a high chance (according to the statistics I saw in those articles) that I'll be seen by my male peers as just another vagina, conveniently attached to a pair of tits.

This is most certainly not the university life that I considered let alone dreamed of. Which was, I suppose innocently free of horny, predatory little shits that tote around Rohypnol like I carry books. I'm not going to get bogged down with this though, and I certainly don't want to fret over it like I did with the subject of creepy college tutors. Because frankly, now that I'm there and have met all my wonderful tutors (minus one, who I disagree with on a regular basis) I feel stupid. Really stupid.
I'm just counting myself lucky that I'm not of the right mindset to attend a party anyway, let alone one with a name that tells all like one of those mentioned above. It's rather insane that their organisers didn't even try to disguise their ulterior motives, but I guess that's just another clue to what today's culture deems as an acceptable way to treat women.


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