Am I Too

Sensitive? Am I too sensitive about words? I don’t tolerate words that I feel are demeaning. Does it make me PC by preferring the word firefighter over fireman? I was having a short-lived Facebook conversation to a newly accepted “Friend” and he asked me if liked Firefighters. Who doesn’t like firefighters was my response right before saying goodbye.

Earlier today I was reading a children’s book about Amelia Earhart and the author referred to Amelia as a tomboy and that she liked to play in the dirt and climb trees like the boys. Why does it have to be irregular that girls play in the dirt. You should see my hands right now after I was gardening. I don’t really care about the plants or the vegetables; I just like digging in the dirt. in a hole1971

My tools were my hands, but mostly it kept me out of trouble.

Tomboy described me. In the early years, being a tomboy was a term of endearment. How cute. But as I aged, the cuteness faded like it’s supposed to. I’ve heard many women say that they were a tomboy when they were young. For those of you who know me, I still wear that badge at 56 and am very proud to be a lifetime member. I’d be card-carrier if there were a club; we would have so many members.

It’s tough to grow up and be told that something is wrong with you or that there is something bad about being a girl. I recall a media blitz on trying to remove the stigma of throwing like a girl. I picked up on this negative while I was still young. I was determined to not throw like a girl. The first several times I sublimed my shoulder throwing a baseball as hard as I could, it didn’t hurt. The joint didn’t dislocate, or should I say, not completely. It would pop out of joint and then go right back in. Being able to increase my distance and velocity to keep up with the Cliftons was my sole goal in life. By the time I hit high school, I had to develop a sidearm as the subluxations hurt a lot and  my joint was getting slower and slower in going back into place and went out with almost any overarm throw. After shoulder surgery, I can throw both ways, and guess what? I throw just like a girl.




    1. During my radical twenties, I fought against the establishment by spelling women and woman without men or man. Womyn was my favorite, though I’ve seen it spelled womin and wommin.

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