A/N: If you guys want faster update, please mention it! I'll be happy to edit and write it quicker, but please keep in mind exams are coming in two weeks :)
{ Chapter Eighteen: Because Equality is Just An Understatement }
THERE ARE SEVEN POINT THREE BILLION ESTIMATED PEOPLE in this world. Every second of every day this number expands; it thrives; it grows. Our planet struggles with accommodating everyone's needs, as we human's are a very selective bunch.
We caste ourselves based on ethnicities, beliefs, shape and form, disabilities or capabilities. We nitpick on the simplest to the most generic of things — be it our personality, appearance, wealth, intellect or tastes.
It's funny, considering all of us just want equality, fairness and respect, when almost everything about us humans are contradictable, hypocritical and more than most, unfair.
But the biggest differences we associate with ourselves would be the largest divider of humankind, of any animal, really; the balance between a man and a woman.
At least that's what the flyer Janice is reading currently states.
Indulging and lapping up every word that she finds on her brochure, Janice is bought out of her reading by the drumming of instruments and hollering, both loud and quick, bringing a sense of adrenaline into her.
Carefully stepping over littered and crushed red cups on the ground amidst the celebratory purple beaded necklaces (the specified color for Woman's Day), she makes her way over to the road ahead of her, trying to have a better view of the parade passing her by.
She catches sight of a familiar six foot blonde boy who, to her, looked weirdly in place, despite that there almost an estimated 95% attendance of women in the crowd around him. Janice isn't worried about losing him, as it helped that he's freakishly tall; he's like Janice's own radio tower.
Coming closer, she notes a tense look on his face, as if he couldn't find something (or someone).
Janice came up to him and tiptoes to tap his shoulders. "Sorry, I lost you once the new six o'clock party showed out of no where. Thank God you're so easy to find."
James looked down and flashes her a smile, trying to mask that he had been kind of worried once he lost the red headed vixen amongst the increasing group. "As long as you don't get trampled. I'd hate for the first time I meet your dad or brothers to be in the middle of a hospital. Gives me kind of a bad impression."
"Unless you turn out to be some hotshot doctor that looks really good in a white coat. I think then they might make exceptions."
James bites his lip to keep from laughing. "Yeah, I'm the biggest wussy when it comes to blood. I think it comes from my dad; I got a paper cut once and he took one look and fainted on me."
Janice shakes her head. "Where would men be without us women to take care of your absolutely gruesome, barbarian paper cuts?"
She laughs when he elbows her lightly in the side. "Hush up and look at the floats now. These are really creative."
Janice can't disagree. Some of the floats were historical, bringing prominent female figures that made a contribution to the evolution of woman welfare, like, Susan B. Anthony and Lucy Stone. But the fair also mixed it up with gorgeous acts of entertainment. The Girl's Dojo of Karate (one of Janice's personal favourites because they all looked so badass) showed off their synchronization skills, their bodies fluidly moving so precisely that they looked like ninjas. Some bands even came to play, and although not very familiar with the singers, she loves the input.
It doesn't matter how old you were, what you looked like or whatever culture you brought to the table. All that matters at this parade is the aftermath of where all these ordinary people, the same as you and her, are sharing the joy that brought females to the standing point they're at today, and Janice couldn't even begin to explain how much she loved it.
"Thank you so much for this," she says to James, having to raise her voice so that he could hear her over the jostling, clamorous mob around them. "I'm really glad you decided to get us tickets to come here."
James shrugs, pushing his hands in his pockets. "It's nothing. I'm kind of glad I brought you here, too. Plus, I got free drinks."
"This place is amazing!" she gushes, her eyes already caught onto the next act that was coming up next. "It's so beautiful and cool, you know? So interesting in a way I never thought something could be. I love how it's such a blend of things you just don't expect to go together, but just do, like you and me here."
Janice doesn't catch James staring at her intently, focused too entirely on the Aboriginal portion that was coming up, where a woman decked in traditional clothing and signature tribal paint masked on her, marched to a language Janice was not able to identify.
"She looks so brilliant," she sighs helplessly, observing the woman's confidence stance and pride.
"Yeah, she sure is," James mumbles.
But, this time, he wasn't looking at the float.
________________________________________
ONCE THE PARADE HAD COME TO AN END, much to the disappointment of Janice, who, after just a couple minutes of the event, became adorably enthralled (who knew you could use Janice and adorable in the same sentence?), James and Janice decided to stick a little longer for the public spokespeople that would share about their opinions on the day and concept behind it.
She and him had agreed that if this didn't take much longer, she would try and ask them her own specific questions, kind of like an interview so she had some material to put in her project.
She'd never felt like much of a reporter before, but she would be lying if she wasn't anticipating what form of displays the groups lined up were going to present.
The festival was being held a little farther into the urban part of the city, a large park rented to host the entire thing. It was a paid (she would even go as far to call it exclusive, come to think of it) kind of event.
When Janice had asked him how he had even found this particular affair, she could've sworn his cheeks turned a little pink against his tanned skin, telling her that he had, er, searched it up on Google.
"I searched Google a while ago for an event like this, and I couldn't get a single hit," Janice told him, curious.
The heat was radiating off his cheeks so badly that you could've fried steaks. "Hm, is that so? Maybe your Nokia just had terrible wifi signals, heh, which wouldn't take me much by surprise."
Should she feel guilty that he went through fifty sites to find the occurrence?
Doesn't matter what you think, because she's too busy blocking it out with her own, "hell to the yeah, you spent that much time behind me", her own silly little smile making it somehow alright for James to be humiliated (I mean, it's completely fine to want to stay up for two hours so that you can pick some place special for a dat—project between friends, right?).
Back to the festival, it was set up quite beautifully. While the parade had pranced from different locations originally, the area was vast, even if many people filled in the spaces that lingered. Already laid out to the side was a large mobile stage, scattered plastic chairs and towels for people to enjoy the presentations.
Janice and James are lucky and snag a row at the front, chatting until everyone began milling in and the show could begin.
The sky had darkened substantially, the sun winking itself out of the horizon behind them. Twisted fairy lights were streamed around the stage, blinking a rainbow of colours around, shining even brighter once the navy sky above their heads darkened to a light sable.
It felt like some of the concerts Janice has been to; flashing beams and suspense tangible in the air, everyone listening into the same song—one mind, one heart, a thousand souls.
Twenty minutes went by, starting with a brief introduction of what was going to happen, before they commenced the show.
The first act almost left James (you read that correctly) in tears; Janice couldn't even tease him about it because she had to blink a few of her own. It was a shadow dance, where a group of people manipulated their bodies to perform a dance through shadow's. The choreography was not only flawless, but the story—a woman being ridiculed for wanting to do theatre, teaching, learning education—made Janice stand awed at how far they'd come in their timeline.
But her favourite is the last act.
The previous one had just finished and the audience had died down, before a gorgeous girl stepped onto the limelight. Once the girl got herself caught up with the earpiece in her ear and as soon as the speaker was given the heads up by the stage men about how her microphone was connected to the speakers, she turned back to the audience.
"Hi, everyone," she says, her rich voice smooth like velvet. Janice is instantly hooked. "I'm Rizon, and I'll be speaking in front of all of you. Not only am I pleased by the turnout today, I wanted to say thank you so much for attending this remarkable day. You really deserve a cheer for that."
Everyone hooted on cue, the buzz still trilling in the air. "That's great reception, huh?"
James leans in a little to Janice, trying to make sure his voice didn't overlap the orator. "How do people seem so confident in front of so many people?"
Janice shrugs, than hushes him to hear what the girl has to say.
Rizon clears her throat, but keeps her gaze steady. "I decided for today I wasn't going to give you a lecture or a speech. Those things are pretty boring, it's already nine, and I thought it would be better for my ego if you didn't fall asleep halfway through my piece. Yes, I do mean you in the blue shirt already dozing off."
That rose a few chuckles.
"No, I decided to try my presentation a different way. My presentation will be in a form called spoken poetry, and while that may seem boring to you right now, I'll do my best to change your perspective."
There's silence as everyone watched Rizon walk quietly onto the middle of the stage, the only whisper of a sound the heels of her shoes clacking the stage floor. "My poetry is about equality and about stereotypes. I know, I know, pretty cliché, but bear with me here."
Janice perks up at this.
Rizon takes a huge breath, expelling it into the cold air.
"I should be happy with the colour of my skin,
and the history of my background,
and the clothes that adorn my body.
I should be satisfied by who I am,
who you are, who we are.
I should be happy with the society we live in,
the lies we breathe in, the hatred that surrounds us,
but I am not.
"I used to place these flowers in my hair,
entwine them like a crown,
pretend I was a princess who never needed a prince.
But one day those flowers died, they withered and crumpled,
because someone told me that I wasn't allowed to be a princess
if I went outside the tower of boundaries I had no idea
I was supposed to be imprisoned in.
"You see, there were chains around my hands, around my body,
around my heart and around my mind,
because I am supposed to wait for a man to break my bonds,
a man that won't be much older than I,
experienced as I, matured as I,
but regardless, he is expected to do so.
But me? I'm expected to be dainty,
to be prim and proper and spend my willy days
behind a window I can look out,
but can no longer touch outside the glass barrier.
"I am expected to meet all these shifting rules,
reprimanded for the ones I leave incomplete and
given no acknowledgment for the ones I have done.
I was never enough for this person I had no idea I had to appease.
"I could not do what I enjoy,
I could not express my passion,
I could not express interest, because a princess is a woman,
and women are thought to be nothing but objects for people to toy around until you've
had your fun.
How do you expect us to feel courageous to go on adventures
when we're not allowed to rescue ourselves?"
Rizon is only just getting heated.
"I am a warrior; I fight my battles and I fight for independence.
But what does it matter what I fight for if no one is willing to let me choose my battles?
They assert themselves because of how I look,
because I lack the right body type, the right muscles, the right frame.
Why doesn't anyone look for the right spirit?
The spirit that makes me want to kick a ball into a net or cheer with the crowds in a preppy skirt.
The spirit that makes me want to fly into space and explore the unknown
or stay at home with the family I've nurtured.
"Women cannot be told that they are being unfair,
when the entire race of human's has been dubbed mankind.
a kind telling women cannot pursue their dreams because all they're good for
is bearing kids out of force rather than pleasure,
for cleaning the house and the messes they don't make and for submitting to horrors,
because that is what people think women should do,
but we are more than that."
Short claps throughout the park rang as Rizon continued, whistles ringing through the air and quiet shock spreading amongst the crowd.
"Women are not equal to men if we still feel we have to prove gender.
But what do we have to prove?
That we don't want your fear, we don't want to be feared, we don't want to feel fear;
we just want respect. But how do we receive respect,
when our decisions are second guessed, double checked, rewrote
and burned to ashes in front of us?
"That's why we fight.
We build upon these chars, these broken labels
that tell us what to do and not to do, pushing and pulling until
our limbs are just scattered around the balancing line.
We do not have to appease anyone but ourselves, you know.
We have to fight because we are fighting for a purpose; we will draw blood
and we will rebel and we will rejoice.
We will always continue to fight
because they told us we couldn't."
She trails off, before her last lines are punctuating the air.
"I am a princess who doesn't need a prince,
I am a warrior who doesn't need her knights,
but in the end, I am a woman,
and that shouldn't make me any less."
There's a hush befallen upon everyone. Rizon is breathing hard, the passion not escaping anyone's notice. Finally, it's Janice who gets the courage to stand up, leaving an awed and confused boy to her right, cupping her hands around her lips and shouting, "You tell 'em, Rizon! We're all fighters!"
That broke the ice and everyone starts hooting, cheering, louder than anything they've yelled before, and the shyness that was absent from earlier made a red appearance on Rizon's cheeks, who bowed low at her waist and walked off stage.
Janice caught that Rizon trip a couple times in her excitement to get down the steps, making Janice feel like she could relate to her more than her words ever could.
"That... was kind of brilliant." James says, muffling his hair, not really knowing what else to say.
Even if the words were not applied to him, he could taste the triumph in Rizon's words, tasting the pain and the struggle. He never truly took the moment to see how much endurance the people around him had, and it fascinated him. Made him kind of proud to be a part of a movement bigger than life itself. It did also help having his favourite red head next to him. (Though he'd never admit it).
Speaking of whom, James notices that Janice is already trying to part through the dispersing crowd to the presenters by the stage. Quickly following her through—actually having it easier to go through the crowds than she can, his height and broody disposition (seriously, though, it was really all the night's fault because this guy was so cheerful, he'd take Disney out of business) seeming to intimidate.
They spoke with the spokespeople, and Janice couldn't have been more vibrant.
James wonders how she possessed so much energy, as if static clearly stuck out of her as she complimented and questioned the workers, who are flattered by the adulation and all too eager to participate. Where many look monolithic under the dark clouds and the shining moonlight, she looks more alive than he has ever seen.
James is sure of one thing, not able to stop the admiration for her progress at alarming heights; Janice had a spirit, a warrior sprit.
No matter who told her otherwise, she'd never stop fighting.
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A/N: Straighter than Paralle Parking has 50+K reads and this is more than I could possibly dream of. Thank you so much everyone! Your comments and your votes truly make my day :)
Seriously, though, James is my favourite chapter to write about. And it took me forever to write the poem for Rizon, but I loved it! Hope you guys did, too! :)
Love you lots, everyone! Wishing you Christmas wishes, New Year vibes and exam aid xx
Regards, Sarena x