When you're a woman, you are told
There are certain roles and positions in this world
That you, as a woman, simply cannot hold.
I first figured this out when I was a child.
It was recess on the playground,
Kindergartners running wild.
I wanted to play on the big jungle gym; all the boys were there.
I didn't want to play with little girls,
They were too soft– putting flowers in their hair.
I ran to play with them, socially naïve,
Their response to my intrusion
Was one I simply could not believe
"You can't play with us, you're not a boy"
Was why I couldn't join in their game,
And up until that point in time,
I thought we were all the same.
And now, in my adolescent years,
I find it quite hard to bear
That we discriminate against people
For what we have going on down there.
As a woman, each day I am told
That there are certain things I cannot do,
Certain roles that I cannot hold.
When I go to school I hear it in the halls,
Corridor to corridor, patriarchy and sexism
Bounce from wall to wall.
I've heard them so many times,
If they were Pokemon,
I'd have caught them all.
But you see, I'm not like the other girls,
Meek, subservient, molded, small.
You know what?
I don't really care for society's roles.
I don't care for them at all.
I have a vagina, it's true.
But that doesn't make me any less than you.
In fact, it doesn't matter what I have down there.
What matters is that I'm a human being,
And that's why you should care.