By Emily Fearon
Here’s to you, Dad,
You who loved your girls
Taking on fatherhood
With an air undaunted
And raised us with the knowledge
That we were wanted.
Here’s to you, Mum,
Who wouldn’t buy me Barbies
Even though I was upset
You didn’t sit idle
You bought me books because you knew
that Barbie shouldn’t be my idol.
Here’s to you, gym teachers,
Who made us play with the boys
It wasn’t always fun
We would trip and we would fall
But you know girls run just as fast
And you were right, I beat them all.
Here’s to you, my best friend,
You were always the wise one
In seventh grade girlishness,
I thought he was hot
You pointed out my objectification
And that is a moment never forgot.
Here’s to you, my guy friends,
Thank you for not thinking twice
About hanging out with us girls
You are the brothers I never had
We could talk, cry, laugh together
We were different, but that wasn’t bad.
And here’s to you, cat callers,
Who remind me of the cause
I can’t be angry, you’re a product of this world
You’ve believed the lies at a cost
No woman will ever appreciate your jeers
In the end, it’s you who’ve lost.