Under the Skin

When I was a child--even when I was a teenager--I knew that both of my parents have engineering degrees.  I knew that both of my parents have completed graduate degrees.  I knew that my mother had a master's in engineering.  And I just figured that some people's mothers have master's degrees in engineering.  Basically, I didn't really think there was anything unusual about a woman getting an engineering degree in the early 1980s.  Because it had never been a big deal--my mother just had a degree. Just like my dad.  Then, I was in my twenties when I realized that my mother is a freaking feminist.   Women didn't just get masters degrees in engineering in the early 1980s.  It wasn't a thing women did.  My mother is a feminist. Here's the other interesting part:  my mother doesn't fight with people.  She doesn't argue with people.  In fact, she'd really rather not talk to people.  Maybe, hence the engineer thing. As such...

I'm tired of the conflict.  I mean, I like a good argument as much as the next former American Heritage TA.  And if I didn't really like conflict, I wouldn't have argued three entirely different positions at different points in time in the Research Ethics discussion session today.  But I'm done.  I'm done with all the hate for Muslims.  I'm done with all the hate for those who hate Muslims.  I'm done with Donald Trump.  I'm also done with those who are under the impression that if I don't march down the streets I love Donald Trump.  I recently told someone that I didn't march in the women's march, mostly because I don't really feel the need to protest for nothing in particular other than the fact that my candidate didn't win.  This person literally told me to "have sexual relationships with myself." Not in as kind of words.  Just because I don't want to protest doesn't mean that I agree with him.  And even if I did...