When I heard the word “feminism” for the first time

[This post may contain mistakes, because English.is not my first language]

Maybe you were wondering where I have been such a long time.

Well, my life is always full of changes and unexpected facts, so you shouldn’t worry if I don’t post for some months. I’ve not forgotten this blog and certainly I won’t.

Today I want to talk about something autobiographic, but in some ways related to feminism.

When did I hear the term “feminism” for the first time?

I was at high school. It was my 4th or 5th year, if I am not mistaken. My philosophy teacher said:

I believe in the equality between men and women. I’m a feminist.

I remember that I didn’t question the word “feminism.” Even if it was the first time I heard it, it was clear to me that it had a positive meaning. What surprised me was that a male pronounced it. I guess this may be related to the fact that, whether we want it or not, we are all affected by patriarchy.

Patriarchy, directly or indirectly, controls our minds. It doesn’t matter if you consider yourself a feminist or not. It is really likely that you experience the violence and the injustice of patriarchy, because our society is grounded in it.

Now I think differently. It doesn’t surprise me anymore when a man tell me he is a feminist, because I’ve become a feminist myself.

But, to be honest, does it matter if a person is male, woman or non-binary?

We are all people, that’s what it matters, and we should all fight against patriarchy!

And you? When did you hear the word “feminism” for the first time?

Leave a comment, if you want.

P.s. I will talk about my teacher in other posts. I know it may be a little bit personal, but he really had a big influence on me!

Dear Father, do you know me?

I was in a car.

In a stranger’s car.

He was talking to me, but I barely answered his questions. He was driving, and he drove me somewhere.

I don’t remember exactly when.

I felt this once, when I was in this car, but the thing is that the man that was driving was my father.

Dear father, have you even been present in my life?
Dear father, have you ever known me?

Have you ever listened to me?
When I was a kid, I used to embrace you. I remember your fat belly, how I played with it.

But, then…I don’t know what happened, but I was not your baby anymore.

And I looked for a father, elsewhere. And once I found another dad. I remember that he knew many things about me.

He appreciated how I was. He still knows me, and I know – they told mehe is still talking about me, even if we don’t meet anymore. It’s two years I don’t see him.

Dear father, my other dad was my teacher. He completely changed my life. He made me what I am right now. He made me think a lot about this world, how it is good and ruined at the same time.

He said that he wanted to be a friend for me, but he wasn’t. He was and he will be forever my daddy.

Sayuri.

***

[Italian Translation]

Ero in auto.

Nell’auto di uno sconosciuto. Mi parlava, ma rispondevo a malapena alle sue domande. Guidava, mi portava da qualche parte. Non ricordo esattamente quando.

Questo è quello che ho sentito quando ero in macchina con lui, ma il punto è che l’uomo che stava guidando era mio padre.

Caro padre, sei mai stato presente nella mia vita?

Caro padre, mi hai mai conosciuta?

Mi hai mai ascoltata?
Quando ero piccola, ti abbracciavo spesso. Mi ricordo la tua grossa pancia, come amavo giocarci.

Ma, poi…non so cosa sia successo, ma non ero più la tua piccola.

Ho cercato un padre altrove. Una volta l’ho trovato. Ricordo quante cose sapesse su di me.

Mi apprezzava. Mi conosce ancora e so (me l’hanno detto!) che sta ancora parlando di me, anche se non ci vediamo più.
Sono due anni che non lo vedo. Padre, il mio papà era il mio professore, colui che mi ha completamente cambiato la vita.

Mi ha resa ciò che sono adesso. Mi ha fatta pensare tanto a questo mondo, a come sia bello e rovinato al tempo stesso. Mi ha detto che voleva essere un amico per me, ma non lo era.

Lui è e sarà sempre il mio papà.

Sayuri.