The Debate on the Feminine Form Continues...

It never fails to amaze me how one act or word, especially from "famous people and their kids" can spark articles, blogs and comments from all sides. 

I guess, this is what it means to be living in the "internet age" - we have a venue to voice all our opinions, be it solicited or otherwise. 

What I'd like to take from this whole "issue" is this - yes, there is no wrong or right way to parent a child. Simply because every parent and child are so different. What works for one, may be disastrous for others. 

However, it is encouraging to see and read that people are waking up to the fact the "traditional" ideas of beauty, hair and the feminine form is longer valid. 

It may take sometime to change that old view but it is definitely happening now. 

What we will undoubtedly want our children to understand is that they are loved no matter how they look like, and that they should also not judge others based on their looks. 

I have already ranted my two cents' worth on why changing our looks or appearance is only superficial and that will not last in my last post. Hence, I am not going into a long rambling about that yet again here.

The content of one's character is more significant than one's appearance. 

Exterior beauty fades eventually. Strong values and self-esteem are the very attributes which will help us in the long run. 

Lastly, by all means, enjoy every phase of one's life because each stage is so different and they go by so fast.

Especially, as a parent to a 12 year old myself.

Our kids will grow up always faster than we would like.

But I guess, that is why we should cherish every moment spent with our children no matter how challenging that could be sometimes.

Hope you find the article posted below useful.

Peace to all!

Willow Smith and Female Body Image: Why Girls Have the Right to Own Themselves

Internet, I think I have a new personal hero. This week, Jada Pinkett Smith sounded off at critics who were upset that she would "let" her daughter, Willow Smith, buzz her hair -- despite long locks being a signature of Willow's style. (All the better to whip back and forth.) Because the internet has nothing better to do than pick on little girls for being different and the mothers who "enable" all this ungodly self-expression, people took issue with Jada's decision to allow her daughter to dictate her own personal style. Willow Smith is 12 years old and not a Barbie girl. Surely, she can dress herself, right?

I guess not.

Pinkett Smith took to Facebook to address the "controversy" and tell the haters to go back to the incestuous Reddit holes they crawled out of, stressing that her daughter's hair choices are her own--and no one else's. Let the "War on Girls" commence:

The question why I would let Willow cut her hair. First, the let must be challenged. This is a world where women, girls are constantly reminded that they don't belong to themselves; that their bodies are not their own, nor their power or self determination. I made a promise to endow my little girl with the power to always know that her body, spirit and her mind are her domain. Willow cut her hair because her beauty, her value, her worth is not measured by the length of her hair. It's also a statement that claims that even little girls have the right to own themselves and should not be a slave to even their mother's deepest insecurities, hopes and desires. Even little girls should not be a slave to the preconceived ideas of what a culture believes a little girl should be.

This statement perfectly echoes what Will Smith said back in May during an interview with Parademagazine, when asked about his daughter's right to her make her own choices:

We let Willow cut her hair. When you have a little girl, it's like how can you teach her that you're in control of her body? If I teach her that I'm in charge of whether or not she can touch her hair, she's going to replace me with some other man when she goes out in the world.

It's not just about hair. This incident is sadly emblematic of a culture where women's bodies and identities are open for public dissection -- like those frogs in Biology class--and women are shamed if they deviate from the expected norms of feminine appearance. Christina Aguilera gets called fat for owning her curvy body, and back in her most plus-size days, Jessica Simpson couldn't take a picture without someone comparing her to a whale or asking who ate Jessica Simpson. Hilary Swank is a man, Sarah Jessica Parker is a horse, Rumer Willis has a potato head, Jennifer Lawrence is too "big" to play Katniss, etc., etc. On Felicity, Keri Russell couldn't even get a short, boyish haircut without half of the country freaking out about it. Felicity was only as good as her golden locks.

That shaming of women's bodies starts when girls are young and first learning to internalize the norms of a society that tells them they are merely the measure of their waist and bra size. Back when I taught drug awareness courses, most of the already-skinny female students in my class were on diets -- often administered by their parents -- and one was battling an eating disorder. These girls were made to believe they need to be beautiful and perfect to be loved, to fit into a narrow box of identity that not everyone is meant to fit. Your worth is not determined by who you are but how you look -- as if young girls were cattle at a marriage auction. Stay pretty and some rich guy will pay a handsome dowry for you someday, like Courtney Stodden! Dream big, ladies.

By the way, these girls were in 5th grade. They were slightly younger than Willow Smith.

If I ever have a daughter, I want to raise her in a world that's better than this, where a twelve-year-old doesn't have to worry about starving herself to feel worthy of love. If we want to make a difference in these girls' lives, we need more parents like Jada Pinkett and Will Smith, who are willing to stand up for their daughter's right to choose -- her body, her hair and her identity. Women and girls everywhere have a right to own themselves, and if we want to empower them to be strong, confident women, we need to start respecting that self-determination and stop subjecting their choices to such paternalistic scrutiny. We need to let girls be girls.

This was originally posted on Thought Catalog, and you can read the original here.

EAST OF THE HEART: CHAPTER ONE

EAST OF THE HEART

Chapter One: The Departure

1925 – Fujian, China

The rain had subsided into a light drizzle. One could hardly see the tiny drops of water, trickling down the roof tiles and onto the muddy grounds. Outside was as silent as the interior of the small courtyard house, with its somber grey bricks and red faded tiles. The rain had left the unattended clothes pegged on the lines soiled and dreary. All the flowers appeared limp and melancholy. It was morning, but with the dark over-cast sky, it could have been mistaken for evening. In the middle of the room, a nervous seventeen-year-old girl knelt before her mother with her head bowed down. She dared not speak nor look up. Her mother was explaining to her that the situation had turned out to be for the best. 

“You are the lucky one, because you get to leave this place.” The elderly lady said, as her voice hid an undercurrent of sadness.

Was she really lucky to leave, the young girl wondered? Had she been born a man, she would not have to leave at all. She could have continued living in her home, and not be evicted from the village. However, fate had not been as kind and she was born a female child. Therefore from birth, she was already condemned as a liability, and not valued as an asset to the family. In a household blessed with five sons, she was the daughter that every family in the village shunned.  Her mother had taken the liberty to remind her several times a week that she was more fortunate than others. For every baby girl that was allowed to live, many more had perished without a trace, and without anyone knowing of its very existence. From the second these babies were delivered unto this world, they were bundled quietly into the night, and drowned in the river that ran through the village. Over the centuries, the river had consumed countless baby girls. Yet, life continued as it always had - as if nothing was lost or missed.  One might even think that it was the most natural act to perform – to have one’s daughter submerged into oblivion.   

“Mei Yee, we have made a grave mistake by allowing you to study with your brothers. This has filled your head with ideas that will not be of any use to you at all - at least, not in this lifetime.  Therefore, this is the best solution for all of us, and you.” Her mother added solemnly.

As a woman was regarded ONLY to be useful as a reproductive vessel in her village, an educated woman was a design against nature. Women with any amount of education were regarded with suspicion in their village because they were corrupted and damaged by all accounts. There was no real glory attached to a woman's intelligence, only shame. Every ounce of acquired knowledge would have rendered her most unfitting to obey any man, especially her husband. Hence, she would be branded as ghastly unsuitable for marriage. And if a woman were not of “marriageable material”, then she would be totally worthless. However, Mei Yee’s education happened merely by accident. She was allowed to study along with her brothers in order to help them with their homework. All her brothers had made her stay in-doors every single day to finish all their work before their next lesson, while they went out for some mischief. Invariably, it made Mei Yee the most cultivated among them all. She had not asked to be educated in the first place. She was educated by default.

“Now, I have nothing to give you except this jade bracelet. It was given to me by my own mother when I left my village to marry your father. So, I give it to you as you leave us today to marry someone in Malaya.” The elderly lady said, as she took out the jade bracelet from the silken pouch and placed it in her daughter’s hand.

“They do not know that you are educated and they do not mind if you are. So, you are very lucky indeed.” Her mother assured her.

Again, the word: “lucky” appeared in the mother-to-daughter dialogue. No matter how many times her mother had told her how fortunate she was, Mei Yee knew the truth. Luck was never on her side since the day she was born. Even as she knelt before her mother, she knew that "luck" would not come to rescue her from the situation. She was just another female-child, and undeserving of all the trouble that "luck" would have to recruit in order to help her. 

"Listen carefully, I want you to forget about all the books and everything you have studied. They are of no use once you are married. When you are married, your most important task is to serve your husband. And the second most important task is to give your husband and his family, many sons.” Her mother said grimly. 

Mei Yee wondered if this was the same reason that kept her mother from showering her with much affection as she was growing up. At the end of the day, it seemed that her mother would not truly own her. Her mother’s job was simply to deliver her into this world. When Mei Yee had come of age, she was to be married off and would never be welcomed home again. In this respect, her family and home were a place of transit. Mei Yee was never meant to stay with them for long. Thus, why would her mother lavish her with so much love and attention when she already knew that she would have to give Mei Yee away eventually? It was beginning to make sense. It would have been easier for her mother to feel less pain when the time came to let Mei Yee go. Finally, Mei Yee understood her mother, and forgave her for the seventeen years that she was denied of any real warmth and tenderness from her mother. 

Without allowing her emotions to spill, Mei Yee looked up at her mother’s face. She wished her mother long life and good health, as it was customary for a child to say such things to her parents upon parting. Her father had not bothered coming out of his library to see her off. Then again, he never did while she was living in the house. Mei Yee knew in her heart that it was to be the last time she would see her mother, or any of her family. She knew she would not be returning to the village ever again. With her small suitcase, she left the house for the pier.  She was to take a boat from her village to the city of Shanghai. From there, she will board a large ship that would take her to a place called, Penang, in Malaya.

With her right hand, she clasped onto the jade bracelet tightly. With her left, she held her baggage uneasily. Everything she had owned in the world was inside that bag. Hidden neatly in a secret compartment, laid all her shattered sensibilities.

(To be continued….in Chapter 2: The Arrival)