I was all over my own commitment to a daily blog, and trust me there is no shortage of news to discuss. But I just… haven’t. 

I flaked.

My bad.

So. I’ll come back hitting hard with a random thought that came into my head and I cannot shake.

I’ve never been catcalled. At least, no so’s I’ve heard. I can’t say that this tidbit makes me sad, since I have seen people who have been hurt by such nastiness. I should count myself lucky. And I am quite confident in my appearance that I can say it is not due to a lack of attractiveness. But I actually find it a little strange. So many women I know have had to put up with it, and yet I’ve never heard such a thing directed at me.

(Well…. there was this one time. I was in college, and I was walking across campus to sing at Mass. I was modestly dressed, of course: long tunic top, black skirt to the knees, stockings and heels. I walked past a dorm where two guys were talking; as I passed, one said to the other, “Now that’s a woman, boy.” Being the only woman there, I figured he was talking about me… unless he was continuing his conversation and ignoring me completely. I guess I really wanted it to be about me, since I remember it all these years later. But that is really the most respectful “catcall” a girl could get…)

But it begs a grand question: why must a “rape culture” persist? Obviously men have been raised to, if not keep sexual comments to themselves, to at least not scream them from street corners and car windows. Why has that not pervaded? Why must women, regardless of age, race, and overall appearance, be objectified by strangers?

Pay attention to those around you. If you know better, show others how “better” looks and sounds.


(A college-age me… y’all can imagine I still look like that, even after 4 kids and 3 layoffs…)


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