this was a ‘timed write’ with my feminist writing group. the topic, “what is justice?”…here we go:
Weird. “Just” also means “only” or “merely”–as in I’m just me, just a regular gal–only, merely–insignificant, small, lowly.But “only” can be more like a criterion, as in, ‘only under these conditions’ –not merely so much as ‘in these circumstances and not others’…oh dear.
There is only justice when…when all are heard and those with the least power are satisfied. But who decides who has the least power? uh-oh. And how do we get to a place where there is no one with less power? what would the world look like with no margins? No marginal–where would the edge go? We’d have to think of our society in a completely different way when everyone has enough.
how will justice, enough for all (not too much for any, nor too little), be achieved? Here’s my crackpot idea, for what it’s worth….
First off: a moratorium on babies. There are enough babies now, we have to just stop. Oh yea, they’re cute and all, but really people, they are NOT sustainable. Especially North American babies, what with all the disposable nappies and designer fucking strollers and plastic teething rings and the fucking Baby Einstein dvd’s and shit. Anyway, Einstein wasn’t an extraordinary baby, or boy. He had a good idea as a young man–and there’s evidence that it wasn’t even HIS idea, it was his first wife’s. Once again, the fella gets the credit for the lady’s innovation. pffft.And who’s to say that your baby’s gonna be the second coming anyhow? Maybe it’ll be your baby’s fart that sets off the nuclear holocaust. Ever think of that? and just to clarify, and I shouldn’t have to, but i’m going to, I have children in my life, including newly minted babies, whom I adore. but I still think it’s a mistake to keep reproducing willy-nilly instead of making the just revolution happen. yep.
Second–Justice will be achieved when men look every woman they meet in the eye and say to her, “hello, what do you think?” and take her seriously. For a start. EVERY WOMAN. Got that? No, the boys are not reading this blog. It just makes me wild with rage when i’m walking along and a man is walking toward me, and it looks like he’s looking at me, so I smile to greet him, and his eyes slide right over me, i am beneath his notice. “Wait just a second, there bucko, YOU are beneath MY notice, really. And I made the human gesture to acknowledge you and greet you warmly and you can’t even fucking SEE me? C’mon.” I hate that. I always feel a little embarrassed when that happens, and it does every day. I’m just like a dog, though. A golden lab, at that. so I just keep on, wagging my tail, hoping for a treat, a pat on the head. pffft, I say again. I’m not interested in the ‘male gaze’, you know, the one where they look women square in the tits–(and if we are too old or too fat or not young, skinny, lip-glossed and l’oreal luscious–they don’t see any part of us at all)–I want them to look us in the eye and treat us like their superiours. ’cause, you know–we are.
Every woman. Look at her. In the eye. SEE her.
okay. third. capitalism’s gotta go. it’s unwieldy, unfair and structurally depends upon injustice and division and lack. we have to pool our resources, eat less, talk more, do things together, get to know other people.
And this should go without saying, but i’d better say it–men cannot go out at night. Not alone or in groups. Maybe they can go out supervised by women, but really, they should just stay in and do some crocheting.
Justice. it does not work the way men have set it up (a la the ‘criminal justice’ system), because it only works in their interests–rewards the already powerful and blames the powerless (namely, Mom). And the powerful are invisible–or mostly invisible.the invisible hand of the powerful–maybe the hand (talk to the hand, fer all the good it’ll do ya) figures that justice is everyone marching lockstep together following the orders of Thing (that character in the Addams Family that’s a hand, disembodied)–but that is how the patriarchy works, no one is thinking, or taking responsibility…”I was just following orders” or, “It’s my job”, or, “the king decrees it” or whatever buck-passing claptrap we come up with…
So what does justice look like if everyone has a say? How can we get to a place where people like Clifford Olson, Paul Bernardo, or Robert Pickton can not ever even become? Where no one is to blame–because we are all responsible?