Taxes, Tampons, and Travesty: My period’s political coming of age during the dawn of the free tampon debate.

Over the past few years my period has been getting more and more political. I guess this shouldn’t surprise me. I mean, this is America, land of the free and home of government so small it can crawl right up into your uterus. It’s possible that I had been naive, or maybe I was just been so caught up in not losing my access to safe abortion, that until recent years I completely neglected to look at the politics of my period.

For me, it all started in 2015 when I read this article by The Atlantic about why people hide tampons on the way to the bathroom. At the time, I was working for a tech start-up (read: not always a lot of ladies around, but that’s an issue for another article) and going to the bathroom with a tampon was always a 007 level secret mission. Fact: I’ve smuggled banned items through TSA with less thought than I was giving to how I would make it 25 feet to a restroom, without a single person realizing that I was menstruating. After reading that article I felt like a fool! I mean, I called myself a feminist, and yet I was essentially embarrassed to be biologically female on a monthly basis. The frustrating part was that I couldn’t even remember how I learned to hide my tampons. I grew up with a very progressive mother and I come from a large family of oversharers. Hiding things that are “taboo” or “gross” is not apart of my inherent DNA. I knew it had to have been a learned behavior. Shortly after that article, I started an open carry policy when I went to the bathroom, clutching my tampon like bayonet, ready to impale anyone who dared question me.

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Shortly after I implemented my open carry policy, (a personal, mini resistance to the taboo), Thinx (the geniuses behind period panties) began to get a lot of heat for their “controversial” subway ads. I feel like I cannot even begin to address the ridiculousness that is this facet of the period debate without first saying: as someone who lived in NYC for almost two years and was a regular public transit user there, this isn’t even close to the most controversial thing I’ve seen on the subway system. As the articles and opinions rolled in on this ad campaign, I started to understand where my shame came from. Regardless of how open my family was, I didn’t live in a bubble. Growing up (especially as a girl) in a world where an advertisement openly addressing a female biological function is controversial, but using sex and the objectification of (usually) women to sell literally anything is the norm, a girl is bound to absorb some shame.  

Last year, this whole bloody controversy came to a personal climax when it hit my home state of Little Rhody.  First, through the hard work of State Sen. Louis DiPalma and Rep. Edith Ajello, my state legislature tried to pass a bill that would strike down the tampon tax in Rhode Island. Sadly, the bill stalled in committee in June of last year and again my mind was blown as to why this was even a debate. I was shocked to find out there are only 7 other states that have successfully abolished this tax. To rephrase, 86% of this country is taking tax on an item that is an absolute necessity.

To fully illustrate the non-negotiable need for tampons and other feminine hygiene products, let’s look at a very common, publically offered item: toiletpaper. If you were to forgo wiping your bottom after going to the bathroom, you would still have pants and underpants to provide sufficient barrier between your unwiped situation and the public. However, if every person who had their period sat down on the NYC subway without a hygiene product in place, we would have a biohazardous disaster on our hands. Is it possible, a reason this tax has not been addressed sooner is because it would be hard to find enough people willing to publicly bleed on a subway for fear of shame?

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Finally, in September 2016, the Brown University Undergraduate Council of Students decided to offer FREE tampons in both the men’s and women’s restrooms. The country went nuts and I did what everyone says never to do; I read the comments section. The articles were all well and good, but I was less interested in how they implemented it, than I was in why no one had thought of this sooner!  I had a hunch that my learned embarrassment and people’s aversion to addressing “Old Aunt Flo” directly were two closely related issues. I feel comfortable saying that I was right in this assumption.

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My initial take away from reading comments on various articles was: there’s a lot of confusion about what defines a necessity and what just makes people really uncomfortable. And (consequently?) there’s a lot of confusion about periods. I mean, the person asking about EPT testing!? As far as I know, pregnancy is not yet (I’m looking at you GOP) an uncontrollable function of the female body. Putting aside people who cannot follow basic principles of logic, what concerned me most were the people who genuinely did not understand what a period was for or how tampons worked.

 

In a way, I understand people’s fear. As humans we have a historical habit of fearing (and sometimes even demonizing) that which we do not understand. I just never thought that in the age of information, where carrying a handheld, AI equipped, mini computer in your pocket was the norm, that a bodily function (which has been happening since the dawn of the human race) would be so widely misunderstood.

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So, where does this leave me and all of us bleeders, in 2017? Well, Cornell is set to start dispensing free sanitary products in some of their campus bathrooms, Chicago is running a controlled trial release of free sanitary products with the hope it will lead to widespread change at the University of Chicago and it’s only February. Overall, I’m hopeful.

Though I’m no longer afraid to walk with a tampon in hand, I still have mixed feelings about politics in my panties; a predominant one being annoyance at the necessity of it all. But, like all the people behind us know and all the people in front of us will learn, equality was not won in a day. And so, with my chin held high, I say: Tampons out everyone! We have work to do.

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Happy International Women’s Day

 

I was going to write a post, but I figured by this time of day you have probably seen so many inspiring messages on social media that you’re saturated.

So instead, I’ll leave you with this reminder: This day/cause/fight isn’t just about white women.

May you carry that little tidbit with you, and hold it close to your heart in all your future feminist endeavors.

Until next time ❤

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I realize there’s inherent problems with this coming from a male voice, but let’s just leave gender out of it, and take it as a tacky meme. ❤

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This was seriously the ONLY positive feminism meme I could find that also featured a woman. And in other thoughts, the internet is a dark and terrible place….. 

Transatlanticism

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Sometimes words are not enough, but I think I would remiss if I did not try to say something.

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I really met Matt in 9th grade. In a school as small as ours, you kind of always knew people even if you had never really met them.  He sat behind me in English class, he would partner with me on group projects, and always wore “girl jeans” and a faded, dust colored tee that read,  “Death Cab for Cutie” (a strange phrase which I would eventually Google and consequently find my favorite band). With a round face framed by dark blond curls, I always thought he was pretty, not in a romantic way, but in the most literal and dry meaning of the word. He was quirky, and weirdly observant. I remember one day he commented on my chipped nail polish, saying that I should “really fix those” as he raised his eyebrows towards my fingers. What stuck with me about this unimportant moment, was that he said it in such a matter of fact, emotionless way. He wasn’t mocking me or being rude, just stating his opinion on something I couldn’t imagine another 9th grade boy noticing.

I can’t tell you why this meaningless moment has stayed with me for over 10 years. It’s such a pointless thing to remember. And what’s odder is that it’s really the most vivid thing I remember about Matt. Maybe it’s all I could gather mentally the first time I heard Death Cab For Cutie and the memory just ended up cemented in my brain. Matt and I crossed paths after high school a few times, but outside of alcohol hazed, chance encounters and the internet, Matt and I did not really know one another. Though, any time Chris Walla’s voice came through my speakers I would always think of him.

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Before social media and the expectation of 24/7 documentation, what I do know about Matt would have constituted us being acquaintances, maybe friends by popular definition. I know where he worked, what part of town he lived in, who he lived with, who he dated, who he was friends with, what his band was up to and what he looked like. Today, you can know that about anyone, so long as you can find them online. This leaves the question: is anyone you know these things about an acquaintance or friend? Or, do these silly bits of information mean nothing and we just pretend they matter?

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Death has always been baffling, life’s most certain mystery. The confusion surrounding death is amplified today in situations where you’re not able to define how well you know a person. If you can’t figure out what a person means to you, then how do you know how to feel about their death?

With social media we know people in a way that was once inherently meaningful (knowing their birthday, family, friends, etc). Now, we have the ability to know and simultaneously not know a person. Within that paradox lies an emotional grey area where emotion is prescribed to anything that would have significance in any tangible relationship. The catch here is that these online, peripheral relationships aren’t always tangible. But, that doesn’t necessarily mean they’re not real to at least one person. If they’re real, then they must have some meaning, right?

And so, when someone whose emotional connection to us we do not fully understand dies, where does this leave our emotions?

I’m sure some would argue in these instances that our emotions are best left in the Absurd. The way we think we know people isn’t real. And although we as humans may attach strange value to these fake connections anyway, we will ultimately find that they do not mean anything. And freedom from the confusion will come when we let ourselves be ok with that meaninglessness.

However, in my experience with death, I find that logic goes out the window even in the most clearly defined ways of grieving.  And in these stranger instances, we are left with an unexplainable emptiness where sadness wants to be, but doesn’t quite fit. To have it all be meaningless would be a relief, but that doesn’t quite fit either. That emptiness, it’s a weird sense of loss comprised of fleeting memories that might have once been relevant and it’s exacerbated by compulsively scrolling through in memoriam posts.  Ultimately, we’re left with the choice of forgetting someone we barely remember to begin with, but nonetheless feel for, or continuing to prescribe meaning to something that we can’t even be sure was ever meaningful. Both are obvious and inexplicably impossible options, and neither is of any real comfort.

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I know Matt and I weren’t friends in a real sense, but he was still intangibly there on the very far periphery of my life. Does that matter? I don’t know. Maybe it was all meaningless in the grand scheme, our minimal interactions and what little I did know of him. I do know that I’ll still think of Matt any time I hear Death Cab For Cutie, his death will not change that, though if I’m being honest it will be more a reaction then a remembrance. As for whether that distinction is important, I’m not sure.

 

In memory of Matt Terry.

Until next time ❤