2012, I leave you as I left the years that preceded you.
I have not ticked every item on the list I drew up so optimistically 365 days earlier; my life is not full and vibrant, and the things that didn't make sense in 2011 still don't make a lot of sense now. I am not as successful as I had hoped, or as happy as I had promised I would be. 2012, like every other year, ends like this: Mission Unaccomplished.
But I have endured lessons I did not expect to encounter, and I have moved from one place in time to another. I am not the person I was a year ago. I am stronger, wiser and better equipped for the lessons that 2013 has to offer. I am more determined than ever.
So for that, I guess I haven't failed 2012 after all... (Oh, and I survived the Apocalypse.)
Monday 31 December 2012
Friday 14 December 2012
Defending Feminism... Why??
A few days ago, I wrote a poem with an anti-patriarchy theme. It would probably help for me to share the poem to demonstrate just how, exactly, it argues against patriarchy, but when you want to get your work published, sometimes, you have to hold off giving it away for free. Just sometimes. But take my word for it.
I shared the poem with a few of my friends (some male), and only a handful of (female) readers seemed to get where I was coming from. Perhaps the poem didn't make its point as strongly as I had hoped it did, but what did become evident as I was talking to people was how much men, usually, struggle to distinguish between an attack on men and an attack on patriarchy, and when arguing my point, I felt as though I was having to defend feminism.
I am not anti-men. You will probably find that most women who proudly identify themselves as "feminist" have fathers, sons, husbands, boyfriends, brothers, uncles and nephews whom they love and want to see looked after by the world; they see how feminism benefits men.
Yes, feminism benefits men.
If we lived in a truly post-feminist world, men could stay at home to raise the children. It would not be expected that it is their duty or role to win the bread, or that they must be the "protector". They could cry when they feel sad without being called a pansy or told that they are gay, as if being gay were somehow a bad thing. They would be entitled to longer paternity leave, and would not be expected to pay for meals when they go out with their girlfriends or wives, or always be the one to hold open doors. They'd probably have better sex, as numerous studies have shown that men with "feminist" partners report that they find sex more enjoyable than men whose partners aren't. They would be able to go into careers usually looked down upon or seen as "women's work", such as nursing or midwifery, and if their wives were earning more money, there would be a greater household income overall. Feminism benefits the world.
This is as close as I will come to defending feminism. Yes, sometimes I will have to make my point rudely and aggressively, and if someone says or does something fucking idiotic, I have no problem telling them that they are fucking idiotic. When our society is being dictated by powerful rich white men, I will challenge the views that are being filtered down, if those views are detrimental to every single person's right to freedom and equality.
I will not apologise for being a feminist.
I shared the poem with a few of my friends (some male), and only a handful of (female) readers seemed to get where I was coming from. Perhaps the poem didn't make its point as strongly as I had hoped it did, but what did become evident as I was talking to people was how much men, usually, struggle to distinguish between an attack on men and an attack on patriarchy, and when arguing my point, I felt as though I was having to defend feminism.
I am not anti-men. You will probably find that most women who proudly identify themselves as "feminist" have fathers, sons, husbands, boyfriends, brothers, uncles and nephews whom they love and want to see looked after by the world; they see how feminism benefits men.
Yes, feminism benefits men.
If we lived in a truly post-feminist world, men could stay at home to raise the children. It would not be expected that it is their duty or role to win the bread, or that they must be the "protector". They could cry when they feel sad without being called a pansy or told that they are gay, as if being gay were somehow a bad thing. They would be entitled to longer paternity leave, and would not be expected to pay for meals when they go out with their girlfriends or wives, or always be the one to hold open doors. They'd probably have better sex, as numerous studies have shown that men with "feminist" partners report that they find sex more enjoyable than men whose partners aren't. They would be able to go into careers usually looked down upon or seen as "women's work", such as nursing or midwifery, and if their wives were earning more money, there would be a greater household income overall. Feminism benefits the world.
This is as close as I will come to defending feminism. Yes, sometimes I will have to make my point rudely and aggressively, and if someone says or does something fucking idiotic, I have no problem telling them that they are fucking idiotic. When our society is being dictated by powerful rich white men, I will challenge the views that are being filtered down, if those views are detrimental to every single person's right to freedom and equality.
I will not apologise for being a feminist.
Sunday 9 December 2012
My Feminism, Your Feminism
One thing that anyone with an opinion (which is pretty much everyone) is guilty of doing, is trying to force that opinion onto other people. It's natural. We think we are right; we want to be recognised as right; we want to operate in a world where things happen our way, and the only way to achieve that (besides running a dictatorship) is in getting people to agree with us. And so we state our argument as best as we can and hope people's minds are changed.
I have been trying to force my political opinions upon the wider world since I was a child (been telling people they're sexist since 1996), but I know that there will always be a group of people who will never hear me. Our views tend to come from our own experiences, hence why the majority of people who classify themselves as "feminist" are women; these are people who experience on a daily basis gender-based discrimination. Until a man is regularly wolf-whistled at in the street, physically violated by strangers (and non-strangers), feels that his access to healthcare is under threat or that he is, for some unfathomable reason, not being given the same pay, respect and opportunities as his female counterpart, he will never really know, just like I can never really know some of the struggles other women face.
Earlier on this year, I was approached by a theatre company who wanted me to write a short play on the theme of "international protest", and I had only a couple of short weeks to write it, in-between working full-time and working on a BBC project. Due to time constraints, I went with what type of protest I thought I knew best: women's protest; feminism; exploring the discrimination and fight women face internationally. So I did some research on female genital cutting, and it was only then that it really occurred to me just how little I know and understand.
In the years that I have been reading feminist literature, writing feminist columns and engaging in feminist protest, it has always covered the same topics: female objectification, largely in the media; UK-based crime where women are usually victims; lack of positive female role models; "the glass ceiling"... And while these are all very valid issues and we should certainly be fighting our corner against them, I do wonder if we, as feminists, are isolating our sisters; I wonder if we are only presenting one "type" of feminism, a feminism which occupies the thoughts of your white middle-class, educated feminist. Yes, we should care about the numbers of women in the boardroom, but we should care equally as much about women who cannot afford childcare, women whose health and freedom is threatened every day in other countries.
Feminism is not just for me and women like me. It's for every woman and girl alive; it's for every man and boy who doesn't yet realise that freeing women means freeing all of humanity.
The trouble is, I can't tell people this. I have not been subjected to genital cutting, have not been told I am not allowed to vote, or that I have no right to an education. I have not been denied access to contraception or healthcare, have not had my body sold, or used for profit. I have not had to choose between family and career, or been criticised for that choice. The women who have need to be given as great a platform to speak as we have taken for ourselves.
I have been trying to force my political opinions upon the wider world since I was a child (been telling people they're sexist since 1996), but I know that there will always be a group of people who will never hear me. Our views tend to come from our own experiences, hence why the majority of people who classify themselves as "feminist" are women; these are people who experience on a daily basis gender-based discrimination. Until a man is regularly wolf-whistled at in the street, physically violated by strangers (and non-strangers), feels that his access to healthcare is under threat or that he is, for some unfathomable reason, not being given the same pay, respect and opportunities as his female counterpart, he will never really know, just like I can never really know some of the struggles other women face.
Earlier on this year, I was approached by a theatre company who wanted me to write a short play on the theme of "international protest", and I had only a couple of short weeks to write it, in-between working full-time and working on a BBC project. Due to time constraints, I went with what type of protest I thought I knew best: women's protest; feminism; exploring the discrimination and fight women face internationally. So I did some research on female genital cutting, and it was only then that it really occurred to me just how little I know and understand.
In the years that I have been reading feminist literature, writing feminist columns and engaging in feminist protest, it has always covered the same topics: female objectification, largely in the media; UK-based crime where women are usually victims; lack of positive female role models; "the glass ceiling"... And while these are all very valid issues and we should certainly be fighting our corner against them, I do wonder if we, as feminists, are isolating our sisters; I wonder if we are only presenting one "type" of feminism, a feminism which occupies the thoughts of your white middle-class, educated feminist. Yes, we should care about the numbers of women in the boardroom, but we should care equally as much about women who cannot afford childcare, women whose health and freedom is threatened every day in other countries.
Feminism is not just for me and women like me. It's for every woman and girl alive; it's for every man and boy who doesn't yet realise that freeing women means freeing all of humanity.
The trouble is, I can't tell people this. I have not been subjected to genital cutting, have not been told I am not allowed to vote, or that I have no right to an education. I have not been denied access to contraception or healthcare, have not had my body sold, or used for profit. I have not had to choose between family and career, or been criticised for that choice. The women who have need to be given as great a platform to speak as we have taken for ourselves.
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