Good Afternoon, MTA, Can I Fix You a Cucumber Sandwich?

Last year I lived across the street from City Hall. Sometimes I would be awoken in the morning by loud angry protesters. And I would think to myself how nice it would be to stand on those steps and scream for the rights of women. Big signs with bold letters and chants and that burning energy that can only stem from a desperate cry for change. 

But what good could City Hall do? I don't have a law to protest. Because our inequalities are not political they're cultural. Our oppression is not in the constitution, its in the new Burger King commercial with the mini-sliders and the 12 chicks in bikinis. 

I created this blog to attack it culturally.

And now I'm doing something else.

This Thursday (March 5th) at 3:15 you can find me in the front car of the 6 train heading uptown from the first stop.

I will be dressed in a blonde wig as a pregnant housewife.

I will also be carrying a sign that says "WOMEN ARE STILL OPPRESSED"

To be honest, I'm a little nervous about it. It's pretty bold and up front, and maybe a little extreme. I'm a little afraid I'll piss off the wrong man and he'll follow me home or something. But that's exactly why I need to do this. I shouldn't have to live in fear like that. None of us should. We should be able to voice our minds in a strong way without feeling in danger. 

In the past 30 years, feminism has died. No one is angry any more. It seems we've all been struck dumb with apathy. Let's bring it back. Let's share our voices. Let's tell women we can do better.

Let's ride the subway.

I'm expecting to be riding the train alone, but I'd love it if you could come.