Oh, it’s heavy. The weight of oppression is huge. It’s overwhelming it’s crushing it’s dragging us down and it won’t stop on its own. Sexist oppression crushes us each day a little bit more. For some, it feels secure and safe. In reality, sexist oppression limits, confines, belittles, degrades, hits, harasses, and rapes. Feminism [1] is the movement [2] to end [3] sexist oppression. I want it so bad [4].

From the Ivory Towers of New York [5] to the living rooms of Yemen [6], a systemic sickness presses down on our throats. Yesterday I followed some of the #SheParty [7] tweet up. This weekly two-hour chat, hosted by Women Under Siege [8], offers a forum for discussing sexualized violence as tools of genocide and conflict [9]. Scrolling down through the blatant statements of sexism in workplaces and homespaces shared by the #SheParty-ers, I felt my breath shorten, by shoulders tighten, my arms lock up and my toes curl. I am angry.

Top off that smoldering afternoon with some reports and commentary on the sexual exploitation of Native women [10] in Minnesota. That’s an oppression cocktail. At this point, I’m fuming and I’m overwhelmed. Sexist oppression reaches far and wide and it feels invasive, pervasive, and unstoppable and I’m just sitting in front of a screen reading.

And then, I come across this article, “Vaginal Void Amongst Indian Women (Learning to Love the Indigenous ‘V’) [11],” responding to the same issue [12] mentioned above. Castro describes the passion and vision of groups of women who come together to perform the Vagina Monologues [13], remembering, honoring, giving voice, healing the crushing wounds of gender-based violence and sexism. I’m reminded of the tender but powerful embrace of the movement of people working toward the common goal of ending it already. Together we can shove this oppressive weight off our throats. Together, we can end sexist oppression. Together, we can prevent sexual violence.