Gen Z

We are praised for being independent, strong willed, and educated

But when we rise to fight for the rights of others, told:

“Don’t go burning your bra”

“What rights? Women have all the rights”

“That’s not MY definition of a woman”

“I knew you were a feminist, but not THAT type of feminist”

We are the feminists of Gen Z.


The socially acceptable form of feminism equates to pride and being grateful for what we have, but never demanding more.

Essentially told to be quiet and pay the pink tax.

I calmly pick the glass out of my knuckles while standing beneath the glass ceiling

That men above claim not to see.

Light passes through the glass, but not air

We’re suffocating.

We live in our designated glass bubble

Where women who work are criticized for ‘neglecting their children’

Where women who stay home are criticized for ‘being bad feminists’

We are the feminists of Gen Z.


We live in a country where people are experiencing the best quality of life in American history

But we’re not done.

I see oppression in the woman of color who is told to change her hair.

She’s told it looks unprofessional and dirty.

I see oppression in in the HUMAN BEINGS that are told “that's not your bathroom”.

They are told their genitalia takes precedence over a bodily function.
I see oppression where students are labelled as ‘disruptive’ and ‘problematic’

They are told to ‘get over’ their mental illness.

I see oppression in veterans who are shunned for believing the lies they were told.

They have been failed by the government that has abandoned them.

I see oppression in the men who are ridiculed for being feminists.

They recognize me as their equal.

I see oppression in the women who are ogled at for feeding their babies.

They are told their breasts are socially unacceptable while scantily clad models grace our TVs, phones, and magazines.

I see oppression in the individuals who have to tell their families their significant other is a ‘close friend’.

They hide their love and happiness from the world.

I see oppression when an entire religion is blamed for extremists.

Since when did ISIS speak for all Muslims?

I see oppression in the victims of rape who are dismissed as attention whores.

The assailant’s actions are dismissed because “He has a future ahead of him”.

So we hold onto our children a little tighter and give our daughters Mace.


I see a flawed nation, but I won’t abandon it.

We stand together, I refuse to move.

Admirable men and women have worked, lived, and died to get us here.

When I stand for the pledge, I don’t salute a government, but the ideals it was founded upon.

I plan to use the education I have been privileged to receive and finish what they started.

So buy your HeForShe pins, paint your face, put on your brass knuckles and start punching the glass ceiling.


This poem is about: 
My community
My country


Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.


If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741