Hi. I'm Regina Philange.

ah yay getting a lower grade than your friends that didn’t work as hard as you. oh the joy.

I can’t abandon
the person I used to be
so I carry her
365 Days of Haiku, Day #123 
Cause I’d rather fight with you than laugh with another
Front Porch Step 
Almost. It’s a big word for me. I feel it everywhere. Almost home. Almost happy. Almost changed. Almost, but not quite. Not yet. Soon, maybe.
Joan Bauer 
Telling a young girl she can’t wear what she wants because it’s not appropriate encourages the idea that men’s reactions should dictate society’s norms, and that all women are meta-Eves, tempting and ensnaring men with our sultry-eyed gaze. My parents’ culture is steeped in patriarchy, in the philosophy of the one-step machismo machine, where there is just one kind of man, and two kinds of women: the angel and the whore. These limited ideas of masculinity breed men who want ownership of women.
Fariha Roison 
Feminism isn’t about making women stronger. Women are already strong. It’s about changing the way the world perceives that strength.
G.D. Anderson 
In the 1890s, when Freud was in the dawn of his career, he was struck by how many of his female patients were revealing childhood [sexual] victimization to him. Freud concluded that child sexual abuse was one of the major causes of emotional disturbances in adult women and wrote a brilliant and humane paper called “The Aetiology of Hysteria.” However, rather than receiving acclaim from his colleagues for his ground-breaking insights, Freud met with scorn. He was ridiculed for believing that men of excellent reputation (most of his patients came from upstanding homes) could be perpetrators of incest.
Within a few years, Freud buckled under this heavy pressure and recanted his conclusions. In their place he proposed the “Oedipus complex,” which became the foundation of modern psychology… Freud used this construct to conclude that the episodes of abuse his clients had revealed to him had never taken place; they were simply fantasies of events the women had wished for… This construct started a hundred-year history in the mental health field of blaming victims for the abuse perpetrated on them and outright discrediting of women’s and children’s reports of mistreatment by men.
― Lundy Bancroft
Intimacy is not who you let touch you. Intimacy is who you text at 3am about your dreams and fears. Intimacy is giving someone your attention, when ten other people are asking for it. Intimacy is the person always in the back of your mind, no matter how distracted you are.

You have labelled us the “me me me generation”
and you talk of the world’s demise since our birth.
It appears that all you hear in the novels we recite
is the chapter on sex and drugs and apathy.
You have called us entitled, selfish, lazy,
stupid, loud and too reliant on technology
(these ever-present galaxies at our fingertips).
You call us zombies, robots, slaves;
but complain that we are crazy and wild
and this is where your true fears manifest.

For you cannot control this uprising;
though your propaganda, plastered across the backs of our eyelids, spouts that beauty defines worth and we
will never achieve the standard that validates us.
You regale us with stories of “when I was young”
and “back in my day” but you need to understand
that time has kept on its journey, darling,
and you’re two minutes late for the train.

Your aging ears have misheard the chanting,
for it is not a call of “me, me, me” but rather
that of “we, we, we” and this community
that transcends these white-washed borders
and language barriers of cultural differences
is growing in strength and numbers because
all we need to communicate this message
is the feeling that something has cracked in this world
if a 12-year-old girl gets catcalled on the street
and hijab or turban is equated with terrorist.

So, I will not sit down when I am told to keep quiet
and I will not idly watch as you undo any progress
we have made in the last fifty years.
I will not bite my tongue when you say I’m too young
to have an opinion, because if I am old enough
to know that I should say “please” when asking for things,
I’m old enough to understand when that is no longer an option.
I will not give you my respect if you cannot earn or return it
and my acceptance of others, though great, does not extend
to your immorality and bigotry.

So do not treat me as naïve and call me idealistic:
when I scoff at the phrase “stop the boats”
it is not due to lack of understanding;
when I mention LGBTQIA and have to explain
the acronym, it is not me who is uninformed;
when my identifying as a feminist is met with
disgust and scorn and death threats, it is not
a reflection of who I am but of this society
you have created and it speaks ill of the human
race that our voices are smudged by
others’ fingerprints around our throats.

But we will not apologise that we aren’t the
marionettes you had hoped for, because we are
fire-breathing dragons simmering with rage and
sworn to protect those you have exiled to the tower.
We will not back down, we will rise on these mechanical wings with phones in one hand snapping selfies,
and entire galaxies in the other.

We are each formed from the remnants of a
burning star and we form constellations across the sky.
It is just that you, too accustomed to looking down at us,
are blind to the universes above you.

To People Who Complain About My Generation (x)