The flo6x8 tempered flamencas celebrate de the 8M
We started at bank branches, embodied representatives of those patriarchal gorillas who robbed and condemned us to precariousness. Now, ten years later, with the bitter taste of unfulfilled dreams, the flo6x8 flamencas feel stronger than ever that the political sentiment lives on in our lives and in our bodies. If some time ago, in the pos-15M era, feminism was understood as an element to articulate caring and a guarantor of a different society, today we are aware of that feminism does not articulate. Feminism is.
Machismo, like plastic flowers, represents everything we hate. Stop counting our deaths, stop crying over our coffins.We rather you commit economic resources to the National Pact against Gender Violence, that you all signed last September. You looked pretty in the picture, but 6 months later the Pact has been buried in the storage room, like the works of our artists in the basements of the Prado. We want a real work-life balance in the private sphere and equality in the public sphere.We will scream our demands from our balconies full of geraniums to the herd of clappers that creep into our lives.
Within our very bodies, in our groups, our institutions, in advertising and the social media, we are purging ourselves little by little. We are sweating it out, acknowledging each other, throwing away our demons to fill us with a good hate: the one that will eventually help us to be free. We have to become fearless whistle blowers and talk about the gropers in the darkness of a bar, about the ones with the long sideburns, the ones with the greased up hair, about the partner in the struggles that shouts instead of listens.
We flamencas know that we do not need anyone’s permission to sing shameless fandangos to the master, the bishop and our know-it-all relatives. Against the State meanness that looks condescending at us, we women will flex our muscles and we will reclaim our besieged bodies as the very last trench. We will keep on growing and acknowledging each other as sisters, trespassing without a permit in mainstream media, in social media, knocking minds, kicking in the streets and knocking down the tallest towers.
We are true blue, we are the great feminazis.The feminist flamencas will take the streets claiming a proper party. Let them drop the bullshit and put away their gags. With unleashed joy and a guitar we will dance bulerias, calling up our bodies to form one tempered horde walking to the rhythm of our flamenco shoes.
Do you think you are going to silence us? Not today.
After the 8M, never again.