I hear it all the time, the guys walking down the hall. All these vulgar sayings and words for the girls. We aren't called gorgeous or pretty or even cute. Half the sayings I won't even type, because it's insulting- granted, if I liked the guy, if we were together, I might think differently about some of them- but maybe not. Most likely not.

They aren't ever directed at me, thank goodness, but the girls they are directed at either don't do anything- to think, we're so used to this!- or they make a rude hand gesture. They're called the word equivalent to saying female dog, and still, nothing- granted, for some, it's the truth, but still. As far as I know, we're safe from anything physical, but the verbal crud spouting from the mouths of these teenage boys (boys, not men, because they can't seem to act like men yet) is bad enough.

Is it so hard to cut down on the cussing, the vulgarities, the whispers, the phrases that they don't realize I hear as they point at either a fellow female, or- really horrible- one of my friends? But what am I to do? I can't just report the whole of the male population in my school, because... amidst all these boys, there are a few- maybe a handful- that actually know how to treat us. The gentlemen: the door holders, the "after you"s, the hand-holders, and soft talkers. One, which for the longest time I had a humongous crush on, was extremely theatrical, and would bow as he opened the door, uttering the words, "m'lady". Well, you could imagine the blush upon my cheeks when he did that for me one morning.

But these very few are rarely noticed amongst the others- everybody seems to notice the bad rather than the good, and though I myself do that a lot of the time, I'm trying to notice more of the good, it makes the day more bearable.

Maybe instead of calling us a female dog, or hot, or even cute, someday... grow up... 




Call us beautiful.

Call me beautiful.