Kiana

Finals week is eating me away. It’s always a question of whether I’m half-awake or asleep. Looking at myself kindly never amounted to much, except for today, when I’m trying to reconcile the years I’ve remained unmoved so as to remain untouched, safe in my own little breathing space. I hope this works the same tomorrow and the next day, except that I know it won’t.

An analysis, based on observation, of something predominantly wrong in the place I exist:

In my country, the Philippines, the most common public transportation in cities is the jeepney. It can carry 15 to 20 passengers, depending on its size, and at times it can even exceed that capacity. Whenever the jeepney is half-full and there a heavy load of passengers, the women are always urged to squeeze themselves into whatever tiny space they can, which is extremely uncomfortable, while the men are not told to close their fucking legs, even though, Dear Sir, you are manspreading the shit outta this meager, uncomfortable jeepney seat. I balk and take offense at the unconscious sexism of this, which no one ever talks about because it has become the norm. Male apologists retort, “If you want your ride to be comfortable, where you’re not asked to sit tight and move and squeeze yourself, then just take a cab. GEEZ.”

To do: Chip the borders of confined space as finals season of university chips away at every student’s heart. Reclaim and take up space. ♦