Kymburlesque

My first exposure to myself as a feminist came when I was only 14 years old. As we discussed the constitutional amendments in my freshman history class I expressed my disgust at the fact there is a 50 year span between black men having the right to vote and that of women (Fifteenth Amendment in 1870 & Nineteenth Amendment in 1920). My teacher said I was a feminist, and I reacted as though he called me a bad word. I have since grown to believe the reason there is ONLY a 50 year difference is that white men of the time thought they would get two votes for the price of one because their wives & daughters would need their help in the political decisions voting entails – AND I no longer think feminism is a school yard insult. I am PROUD to consider myself a feminist (an equalist, rather), and wear the “bitch” badge of honor. For I know when I stand up for myself I will ruffle the feathers of misogynists everywhere."Kymburlesque" is a nickname that was originally given to me as a joke in high school by a good friend (funny story behind that one too), then used as my stage name for amateur stand-up comedy (off/on circa 1991-1996 & I dressed like a librarian with specs and all)... and it FITS because if you look up "burlesque" it means (primarily) "the mocking of a serious matter or style by imitating it in an incongruous (strange) way" -- Thesaurus words for "burlesque" are: "parody" "caricature" "mockery" "imitation" "satire" -- most people mistakenly take it as striptease, when in actuality THAT version of "striptease" was more of a distorted act and nothing was really ever "shown" or visible only the "tease" portion of said word works in such a setting.In the late summer of 1995 I was fortunate enough to go to the Non-Governmental Organization forum in China through Webster University. It corresponded with the United Nations “Human Rights” meeting and the slogan of the NGO forum was “Women’s Rights ARE Human Rights.” I met women from all over the world, some telling their stories of such atrocities as “kitchen” burnings in India where women are burned alive so that the man can remarry to attain more dowry money, sometimes the younger sister of the deceased had to marry into the same family who previously killed her sister. I met those from Africa who fight to stop the unnecessary and brutal mutilation surgery of clitorectomies. Not to mention, the countless sea of women who fight to end the raping as a method of genocide, or the illegal prostitution or human trafficking that still goes on all over the world. Sadly, it goes on and on and on… and what is even more depressing, there has been little change in the decade plus of time.Yet, the only reason I had the fortune to go and see all of this for myself, is because I have such a wonderful and supportive husband who co-signed a loan so I could have such a once-in-a-lifetime experience.