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Vice Blog

TORONTO - CRIBS VS. BLOODS

When I first started running an anti-violence group for girls in Toronto I was nervous because, basically, teenage girls are the worst, right?  They're scary and judgmental and way, way, way cooler than me. Also, kids have the ability to sniff out bullshit like ratty little bug-eyed dogs sniff out other dog's asses.

This was at one of those "troubled" schools in Toronto. Although, in my business we don't say things like that. We don't say "troubled" and we don't say "at-risk youth." We say "achieving school" and "youth with potential." And fuck all you h8rs 'cause I believe it.

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In the past few years the school had become famous for being the scene of a veritable execution. That spawned a big report on school violence which unearthed some terrible information about sexual assaults at the school. Then this past year there was a stabbing in the halls and someone was booked for carrying a gun.

On my first day I walked in to the classroom to find 15 expectant girls sitting there, waiting for me, staring.  The first thing I noticed was how much style they had. They were decked out in shirts that matched their shoes that matched their nails that matched their eye makeup. I was immediately glad I wore my Echo Unlimited jeans and matching stilettos. We talked about the upcoming Spirit Week celebrations, which required you to wear green if you were single, pink if you were taken and yellow if you were unsure. "What will you wear, Miss?" (they always called me Miss. "Miss! Miss! Hey Miss!") They told me that it had to be Pink for taken because you can't wear Red at the school.

"Why?" I said "Because of the Cribs?" Yep. That's right. Because of the Cribs. And other accoutrements for the newborn among us.

The mandate of my funding was to do things surrounding violence prevention and safety training for young women. Sometimes I'd give them a bit of feminist history or talk about levels of domestic violence in Canada, or talk about how to speak to a teacher that pisses you off without getting your little self expelled. They told me things about themselves that maybe they weren't telling other adults, like what teachers had rubbed their shoulders too long, or who was kissing on who at school, or who had kissed a guy with a girlfriend and had said he wouldn't tell anyone but then he did tell and now what should they do? They admitted that they didn't know what things like "rape" meant and that sometimes they really needed to know how to kick a guy in the nuts to get him off from on top of them and I was suprised when they told me they wished that they had uniforms so that they would know who is or isn't a student at the school and so that "everyone would be equal and no one would get judged".

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They taught me this word that I can't remember but I think it's something like redonkadonk and I think it means oral sex and they would joke around about doing that redonkadink thing on their vacation. They asked me what they should do if they liked someone who had a girlfriend. I told them "You're in high school! They'll break up eventually. Wait it out! "

At the end of this year we worked for a month on making t-shirts with a message on them that we wanted to get out to everyone in the school about the things they had learned. About not living in violence, and preventing violence, and being proud to be a woman and a woman of colour and about being strong and smart and having a voice and being more than just T&A and not being underestimated for being a young woman of colour living in the notorious northwest region of suburban Toronto. They made shirts that said "respect the ladies" and "I am more than TNA". One particularly young girl who seemed to exude complete and utter innocence (she did NOT do the redinkabonk on her vacation) drew a fairy, complete with a wand, flying over a group of guys holding a sign that said "RESPECT WOMEN." Amazing.

And guess what? One of my girls got early admission to York into the faculty of Math. So take that h8rs!!!!!!!!! ELSIE BURNROTH