On Feminism, Anti-Feminism, and the Things That Mystify Me

Kelly Barnhill

I am ten years old. I am riding a banana seat bike through the alleys. I am allowed to go as far as 31st Street, and then I have to turn back. Words cannot describe how much I love this bike. It is turquoise with sparkly flower decals and I ride back and forth through blocks of alleys singing the entire “Mary Poppins” soundtrack at the top of my lungs. My knees are scratched. My hair needs a comb. I probably haven’t brushed my teeth.

A man in a car pulls up. He opens the window. He asks my name. I have been well-trained. I have learned about good touches and bad touches in school. I know that good people don’t drive up to children on bikes. My teachers have been very clear. I take a good look at his face. I notice his red hair. I take…

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Author: awkwardfanaa

Loves to get lost in music and books. Always trying to decipher the true meaning of Life. Likes watching movies. Eats tons of sweets but favors chocolate covered macadamia nuts.

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