the weight of a dollar bill

Of all the people there, why us? Why did he choose us to harass, to accost? What was it about our bodies that signified to him that we were the ones to be the demeaned, torn apart and objectified? Was it our yellow and brown bodies? Was it our female bodies dressed in clubbing garb covered in scarves and jackets to shield our pain from being gazed at all night by penetrating eyes of sexualized desire? Why when Mary shouted that everyone turned but no one got up? No one said a simple, yea man you need to leave. Why is it that we had to ask a man to kick him out? Why were our words not enough? Why did not other man, woman, anyone see their privilege as not the site of direct hate to get up and say something? Why did this man say, “You don’t have power over me?” Where is that coming from? He exerted his power, his privilege, his white male privilege to break down our brown and yellow female spirits. Where was our power? Why is it that we can be stripped of all our power, all our worth by one man? With all the rhetoric, discourse, and theory we learn about in class, why is it that we couldn’t say anything to this man to feel safe again? Why did we need to be rescued? Why on a Friday night to 5 beautifully strong womyn need a man to chaperone them so that they can dance for 30 seconds without being grabbed at or objectified by prying eyes? Where is my validation? This man threw dollar bills at us. What, to buy us? Are we for sale? My body is not for sale! You cannot buy my spirit or my dignity. He was right; we don’t have power over him. Why? Why is it that my self-worth can crumble under the weight of a dollar bill floating gently to the floor? After all the love that has surrounded me and given me a core that makes me believe that I will be ok, that I am worthy, one man, one dollar bill can erase that in a moment? This is why we need these spaces. This is the everyday struggle that spaces like these give us a place to feel safe. Me and my girls couldn’t go out to a late night grub and feel safe. That says something. That says that there’s something wrong, something that needs to be recognized and talked about. My existence is for me. I do not exist for the eyes of others, for the maintenance of your corrupting power, to be the survivor of your hate. I exist for me. I exist for my sisters. I exist because I matter.