I recently received this, er, poem, from a student of mine:

A little boy asked his mother, "why are you crying?"

"Because I'm a woman," she told him.
"I don't understand" he said.
His mom just hugged him and said,
"And you never will."
Later the little boy asked his father,
" Why does mother seem to cry for no reason?"

"All women cry for no reason," was all his dad could say.

The little boy grew up and became a man, still
wondering why women cry.

Finally he put in a call to God.
When God got on the phone, he asked,
"God, why do women cry so easily?"
God said, "When I made the woman
She had to be a special.
I made her shoulders strong enough
To carry the weight of the world, yet gentle
enough to give comfort.
I gave her an inner strength to endure childbirth
and the rejection that many times comes from
her children.
I gave her a hardness that allows her to keep going
When everyone else gives up, and take care of
her family through sickness and fatigue
without complaining.
I gave her the sensitivity to love her children under
any and all circumstances, even when her child
has hurt her very badly.
I gave her the strength to carry her husband
through his faults, and fashioned her from his
rib to protect his heart.
I gave her wisdom to know that a good husband never
hurts his wife, but sometimes tests her strengths and her resolve
to stand beside him. unfalteringly.

And finally, I gave her a tear to shed.
This is hers exclusively to use whenever it is needed"
"You see my son," said God,
"The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears,
the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair.
The beauty of a woman must be seen in her eyes,
because that is the doorway to her heart ---
the place where love resides."

As I read through it, I had a complicated series of emotional responses. Mostly I was surprised that this wonderful student of mine who is so familiar with my politics and had taken my Feminist Theory class would send me something like this. I struggled to enjoy the piece, searching for a feeling of connection or familiarity, but instead grew increasingly disgusted with the treacly sentiment and assertion that it's woman's job to be the giant silent doormat of the world, that is if she's a good one.

Still, I thought, Diana why do you have to be so negative? Why can't you enjoy this for what it is? You know how hard women work at making the world kinder, at feeding their families, at showing love in the face of insults. How about sending it to your married friend who strives to be the perfect Christian wife and mother?

Because, I thought, because I am not co-signing this sexist b.s. Because women are people not objects. Because we vary from person to person. Because men shouldn't maintain privilege by feigning ignorance. Because it's not fair to expect us to shoulder all of the emotional burdens not to mention the majority of the unpaid domestic labor. Because WE DIDN'T COME FROM MEN'S BODIES; MEN COME FROM OURS!!!!!

Yes, it was when I hit the part about the rib that I knew irretrievably there was no way I could appreciate these sentiments even though I was "supposed" to and even though I truly care about the young woman who sent it to me. Oh well, I thought, she doesn't have to know that I was disgusted and turned off.

Just then I noticed her message written below the text:

"This made me want to barf. I thought you would be entertained."

Ha! Right on, Arianna. I am glad this Man Hating Feminazi has ruined another perfectly nice white girl by teaching you to think for yourself.

Now, if only I can convert her to lesbianism. Moo-hooo-hahahahahaha!!!!!