Sometimes, being in this world and female sucks.

Sorry for the bad quality. I just wanted people to get a idea of the scars you can see.

I’m sorry if my ‘constant going on’ about the HUGE amount of violence in the left wing activist communities annoys you. Actually, that is not right. I’m saddened that it annoys you. I’m saddened that it has been ten years since my own rape, and I am still seen as a annoyance every time I bring it up. So many people have been asking me why I am not involving myself in the ‘occupy’ movement. My answer is simple. It isn’t safe for me, as a woman, to do so. The hows and whys of this are slightly more complicated. To try and understand, we need to go back ten years ago. I was 15. I was raped. By a well known ‘awesome dude’, and activist. He was adored by the left wing, part of Class War and Auckland Animal Action(Now open rescue; another group that didn’t deal with it, just kicked him out and changed their name to save their reputation). He had raped other girls before me, but they were young and drunk and easy to scare and manipulate. Everyone knew, and sure, there was the odd fisty-cuff over it, but on the whole it just wasn’t talked about. He misjudged me. Sure, I was young, drunk, and fucked up. But I am stubborn, and I am shouty. I yelled. I had rumors spread about me, as a warning. That I was a whore. That I was a slut. That I was asking for it. The usual things people say when they want to discredit a woman. Words that still follow me today, things that still shape my ‘reputation’ (Luckily, I was so badly bullied all throughout my school years that my reputation has never really bothered me). I didn’t care what he and his croneys said. So then he sent in the second wave; a group of (male) activist ‘friends’ to try and convince me that I was wrong to air dirty laundry in public, that I should keep quiet for ‘the good of the movement’. They didn’t understand that although I had been a vegetarian since I was six (and at the time, a vegan), I still cared about women’s rights more than any animals rights. I didn’t care about ‘the movement’ if I and other women couldn’t be safe in it. So he moved around the country, and eventually enough girls came forward with scarily similar stories, that the truth came out. Justice? No. He left the country. I had few apologies for the years of being ostracized. And I thought, perhaps, just perhaps, things will be different if something like this ever happens again. Sadly, it is exactly the same. And you know what? I still care more about women’s rights then anything else. Because fucked if I’m going to wait until ‘after the revolution’ to sort this bullshit out. What revolution? We don’t even have fucking equality. So to all those people, many of whom I like and care for, who are annoyed? Well, tough. Grow up, look around you. If women can’t be safe in your movement, then you have problems. And you can’t just keep ignoring them, and waiting. Because it hasn’t gone away, and we need to keep fucking shouting about it. NEVER be quiet about it. Never compromise our safety for the safety of a (male led) movement.

I did NOT wish to write the previous post. For all those people who have been telling me to consult other options, I have this to say. The incident I specifically wrote about happened at the beginning of April. It is now the end of September. I have not been idle. I have spoken to many MANY people. I have shouted, I have cried, I have begged. I have got no where. So I am doing this as a last resort.

The Hand Mirror have published the letter from Wellington here. I have thought about it very carefully, and will not be posting the full letter here. Not that I feel it shouldn’t be widely read and re posted, but because I am writing about my specific experiences.

I can’t and wont name the other girls involved. That is not my place. And again, I wish to write about things I have personally experienced in regards to this matter. However, I leave a open invitation to anyone who wishes to use this as a safe space to talk about their experiences, just contact me.

Threats are stupid and just get deleted/marked as spam. All things I wrote happened to me. You may not agree with the way I am going about this, but attempts at bulling just piss me off. And I’m a stubborn bitch. I will read and consider any comment made, but will monitor them closely.

You have no right or ability to judge how Omar made me feel. If you really must know, it was intimidating, terrifying and was a pretty bad trigger for me. I was damaged after the incident. I may not of had a black eye, but there were physical effects. I have a anxiety disorder, and the incident exacerbated it. I went up in my meds, and had a pretty hard time of it. Writing all this is not fun. I am not doing it for any reason other than I refuse to ignore the huge amount of sexism in leftist/ activist circles. If it was just about me, I would most likely not be bothering. But it’s not. Its about all the scared girls. The inequality. The pain and abuse. I will do everything in my power to stop this being ten years ago. I will fight for those who can’t, and for those I couldn’t save.

So there you go. A more personal post than I wished to write. If this is a problem to you, I suggest you look to your own behavior and see what is causing your offense. Is it guilt? Or do you just not think anything is wrong?

Now to me, this is a VERY serious issue that needs addressing immediately. I then found out that the girls who had come to me, had only done so because Joe Carolan of UNITE and the president of SA had both been told of these concerns, and not only dismissed them, but allowed Omar to dictate the meeting where they were to be addressed. They had no other options left. So I and several other members of the CFC decided to address the issue directly. On the 14th of April we as a collective, went to a SA forum on Bahrain, in the AUSA’s Clubspace. We walked in as a group, with myself at the head. I was holding a bunch of flyers on consent. Our intention was to talk to the SA as a group after the forum. This is not what happened.

Omar went off*. He stood over me, screamed and assaulted me. It was horrible, and not only did no one from SA do nothing, some members *** openly laughed. After this, when he calmed down enough to allow us to speak our concerns, we attempted to do so. I would say calm was not the right world. ** He claimed that it was conspiracy against him, amongst other things. After the meeting, Joe Carolan gave me his card, and told me to email him the next day, which I did. Still waiting for that reply, Joe.

This is a copy of the complaint I sent to AUSA, (the president and GM, Tom O’Connor.):I would like to make a complaint against Omar Hamed. On Thursday the 14^th of April, a forum was held in Clubspace. I was invited by a female member of Socialist Aotearoa, along with a number of other women, to attend the forum and talk to Omar about his questionable behaviour with women after the speakers had finished. I walked in first, followed by the other women who all sat down silently. I walked to the front to put a stack of educational materials on consent on the table, also silently. Omar’s reaction was totally disproportionate to what anyone had done (I reiterate: walked in, sat down, put some paper on a table). He stood up as soon as he saw us, and began yelling that we needed to leave. He singled me out, stood very close and loomed over me, yelling in my face. He grabbed the paper I was holding and tried to yank it away from me violently, continuing to yell and yank even after I refused to let go. I felt incredibly intimidated at the time and have spent the days since then off-balance and upset.

After months of pestering Joe and Tom, getting the WRO to pester them, I finally got a email about a month ago, saying (essentially) they couldn’t do shit and to go to the police. To say I am unimpressed with AUSA is one of the big understatements of the year. But this post isn’t about them. This is about the recent protests at the Uni, and Omars prominent role in them. Admittedly the posters set the whole movement off to a bad start (putting males in dresses to belittle them is fucking stupid), but the real issue is the support Omar continues to get from the AUSA and university in general. People need to know what he is, how he behaves, and to understand that these current protests are just a giant ego fest for him. The ‘we are the University collective’ has alienated a huge number of supporters by letting Omar take such a huge role. Women are automatically threatened by this, and he diminishes support for the real issues.

I’m tired. I’m sick of this. I am sorry I had to write this, that it came to this point. But here we are. I welcome feedback, and am happy to post more if people request clarification on any points. For now, many kisses. I’m going to try and relax (HA!).

Another quick edit; The Hand Mirror have published the letter Here.

Edit: As someone who has mental health issues, I am aware of issues with the language I have used in this post. I also know I am very upset and so used emotive language. I use the terms ‘nuts’ and ‘insane’ to mean behavior I think is highly inappropriate and irrational. People who know me know how I speak, and I wrote as if I was speaking to friends. I am sorry for forgetting where I was. I have removed the language in question.

* originally said Omar went ‘nuts’. By which I meant that he acted disproportionately to the situation.

** Originally said ‘ I genuinely think Omar is insane.’. To be honest, I do think he shows signs of being a psychopath. But that is my own opinion, and I understand I am unqualified to say this.

*** Name removed at the request of someone who has better opinion of the person mentioned than I do. I am placing my trust in their belief in said person. I hope they don’t get let down.

This is where I found things going curly wurly. (Relatively speaking – it was all curly wurly for a while.)  I have said some nasty, nasty things to my ex. It was fabulous. Especially because, I am deeply, deeply ashamed to admit, I was carrying the torch for a while and let him knew it. It was catharsis; it was closure.  But I know, I know, in all the dark crevices of my very soul, that this makes me a lesser person.

I really do try not to hurt other people, mostly because I am cowardly, but also because I really do believe in love and peace and all that jazz. I cannot repeat anything I said to my ex here, to protect his privacy as well as my anonymity, but I said some things that I never thought I would say to another human being, let alone someone I loved so deeply for so long.

We had the best of times, and the worst of times.  He saw me at my best, as well as my utter worst, and loved me still. I could, and would, never, ever forget that. Our relationship dissolved for many reasons, and it was more or less a mutual decision. And I would be remiss if I did not say it was at least half my fault. But how much he hurt me as we were breaking up is a different issue altogether. Permit me to say that he behaved very badly. And so I retorted with hysterically

historically

ugly

words.

As advice goes, it is not much. Try to be good to yourself. Try and be a better person, even if your ex is not. Cling onto that moral high ground, like there is no tomorrow. Even if you fail, do not give up on love – love yourself most of all.

Love,

KK.

P.S.

I literally danced to My Little Pony theme music with some of my best friends this past weekend. And I loved every moment of it, shamelessly, deliciously. It really helped, not just with this stuff, but with EVERYTHING. I highly recommend it.

Are you confused? Does it seem self-explanatory to you?

Because it does not to me. I am perplexed by it. I seem to defy explanation. Hoorah! Wait… no.

I was born in Seoul, and the first language I learned was Korean. I started learning English when I was in preschool and I moved to NZ when I was 8.

Does it still seem straightforward to you? Well, there is more to this tragi-comedy than meets the eye.

As you might be able to discern if you look very carefully, I can speak English competently. Indeed, I enjoy playing with English. I am a book nerd. I write. Whatever. Besides, I cannot speak Korean. *GASP!* I know, it is terrible. I really did not have any Korean friends growing up in NZ, and I prefer BBC (Doctor Who coming back this weekend, y’all!) to Korean soap. I even love anime, which I watch with English subtitles and I can understand some Japanese having studied it in high school and university. So of out of all 3 languages in my arsenal, Korean is my weakest.

I doubt that I am the only person in the world to be this way. My mother tongue is, technically, Korean, but my language of choice and love is English, with a spicy serving of Japanese as a side dish.

I have problems with people using the terms mother tongue and ESL philosophically, but more saliently, because these terms are often used for employment. I cannot apply for some jobs (e.g. English tutor) because English is my second language. I need not apply, the ad tells me. I certainly cannot apply for jobs that require me to communicate in Korean (e.g. waiting tables at a Korean restaurant). I need not apply, the ad implies.

Someone please give me a job!!!1

KK.

I have had an intrepid foray behind enemy lines. Indeed I have aided and comforted the enemy. And I have come out the other side, on their side.

I will now duck for a moment for any flying objects thrown my way.

Are you done? Yes? No? Oh well, I will simply go on using the internet anonymity as a shield.

My reasons are theoretical as well as compassionate. There are other things we should be spending money on, such as starving children, etc. This is a super important objection. One that I cannot begin to deal with at an everyday level, let alone here. (Please read How to Save a Life by Peter Singer.) But I think it is significant that this is hardly ever the objection cited. Rather, it is women’s objectification that is at moot most often.  So: my arguments should be taken as theoretical, in the sense that I do not find plastic surgery uniformly wrong, not that there are no greater need for our resources and efforts elsewhere. Put your armchair philosopher hat on.

Women are objectified. Men are objectified. People are objectified. Objects are objectified. (OMG, say it like Yoda with me: “objectified, are women; objectified, are men”, etc.)

This is bad. I agree. But mostly what I saw in hospitals was not some vacuous woman patient and snake-oil-selling doctor. It was mostly breast reconstruction surgery after breast cancer, or cleft palate repair. And we would hardly be against this. It was heart breaking to see these woman and children. They were incredibly brave and surprisingly positive people, who were just dealt a bad hand by life and won. And the surgeons were the same ones who went to Africa or Fiji to do the same thing for cost.

After that, it is a matter of degrees, is it not? How can we judge what people have gone through because of their appearance? I think I am extra sympathetic because (I am butt ugly and) I look Asian. I never get to reveal that part of myself. People always assume that I am an immigrant. I have talked to Caucasian immigrants who do not have the same problem. It can be terrifyingly isolating (still looking for job, y’all). People assume that I am speaking a “funny” language when I am speaking perfectly good English. (Yes, English is a funny language. But more on that later.) When I look after a Caucasian child, people look at me sideways. (I did not kidnap him. I was simply trying to forestall tantrums with candy.)

I have also seen woman who received plastic surgery for beauty reasons. That is, not to fix a gross “deformity” per se, but to normalise a body part. Woman with disproportionately  large bum (no, really, it was striking – she was very skinny, but had children). Another with sagging face, who was in her twenties. I think we should feel compassionate rather than judgemental.

Medicine is a science. Science, by definition, is always advancing new ideas and ways of doing. One thing builds up to others, and sometimes in surprising ways. All the plastic surgeries of the past have helped to refine procedures for people who really do need it.

So why the blanket hate? Love, people.

Again, with love,

KK.

What is and what is not appropriate for work? Depends on the work. But because most employers are sexist assholes… OK, I will revise that. Because most of my previous employers have been sexist assholes, I have dressed to please. I even have a set of faux pearl earrings for interviews. I happen to think that this makes me demure, but with a possibility of inner sex kitten. I think that this look has been classified as Sexy Librarian (wow, I am all out with the capitalisation today).

So, as a potential employee, I would like the feminists out there to weigh in on what I should wear for my thus-far-potential interviews. Should I dress like Clinton or Palin? This seems the Debate of the Decade. To pantsuit or not to pantsuit? Hmm…

Does it actually boil down to whether I should stick to my feminist ideals or my mortal life (job really is necessary for food, roof over head, etc)? I hope not. I feel like it is though. But what do you guys think?

Halp,

KK.

The Weekend Herald, whose bones I pick the most because it is a Saturday tradition of mine, has an article in the World section: Grimness in the details of life in North Korea. Pictures by AP and written by David McNeil from the Independent.

The article itself points to “soldiers [who look] shrunken in their oversized hats” and concludes that the “country’s best-fed men seem to be the two who dominate”. These are the only gendered reference in the article about the people in North Korea.

I do not even bat an eye at these things normally. Gendered pronouns are a battlefield, and I am a veteran. There was a study (citation forthcoming) that showed that when people read male pronouns, even if they mean it as a universal one, they imagine male people with their mind’s eye.

Perhaps the soldiers were the most poignant to the said journo, which I understand. They are the arms of the state, especially for states like North Korea. But the conclusion about “men” was annoying.

What made it so conspicuous for me were the photographs. Whilst the article did not mention women and children, the pictures did. In fact, it was only women and children in the pictures. It was a mixture of a cool, rational appeal mano-a-mano in words, with emotive appeal to “save the women and children” in pictures.

Men are the subjects, women are objects.

So what I want to know now is: who chooses these pictures? I imagine some poor person in deep dungeons under the Herald building choosing pictures from a massive AP database. Or the dungeons of the Independent building. Whatever.

And they want to help. Why else go into journalism? These are honourable people, who want to change the world. They choose pictures that will appeal to us. They imagine that when we see the pictures of women and children, we will rise up in our rage and demand change. And we do.

Poverty and war affects women and children differently to how they affect men. They suffer the consequences of actions initiated and perpetuated by men.

But we know better. A solution will never be good enough if it is only thought of by men. Women are not just the problem, we are part of the solution.  And we are powerful.

Rawr,

KK.