Let me start
by saying I like being a woman and I like the accoutrements that come with it. I like high heels and makeup and the color
pink and having doors opened for me. I’m
especially fond of wearing makeup and pink high heels while a door is being
opened for me. And I really like it if
someone else removes the spiders that skitter up in my life. I like doing things that are typically considered
girly, like cooking, needlework, and taking care of my kids. But professional chefs are predominantly
men, you can probably name more male
than female fashion designers, and my
husband is an amazing parent, arguably better than I am.
What I don’t
like are assumptions. Assumptions are, by definition, problematic, but for now I’ll focus on sexism and
misogyny. Don’t assume that because I’m
a woman I’m stupid, or weak, or illogical.
In fact, I’m passably bright, I’m decently strong, and although I’ll
admit to being on the left side of reason, I’m also very even-tempered and fair.
When you get
right down to it, I’m as complex, competent, and capable as any man.
I can’t
possibly address all the ramifications of sexism in this small space. But let’s just talk about a few that have had
an impact on my life:
Growing up, the
gender divide in my family was about a single degree of separation away from
the Cleavers (my mom didn’t much care for housework, and when she did clean
something, she certainly didn’t do it wearing high heels and pearls). I myself spent close to 10 years as a
stay-at-home mom of two, then three, small children while my husband left early
every morning to bring home the bacon.
Then one day, one of said children informed me, very matter-of-fact,
that “daddies go to work and mommies stay home.” I sputtered and stuttered. I tried to explain that although this was how
it may seem, I used to “go to work,” that every family is different, and that
mommies can have jobs with paychecks just like daddies. Although I cherished this time with my kids,
the exchange left me feeling defensive and lamenting the lesson I was teaching
my kids.
These days,
I leave the house every morning for my “real” job, while my husband stays home,
cleans the house, does the laundry, and schleps the kids. While he and I otherwise maintain fairly
traditional male and female roles (I do most of the shopping and cooking, he
fixes stuff and can always be counted on for spider removal), what my kids have
learned is that we have embraced a division of labor that allows us to
contribute what we are able to and what we’re good at. It works for us, which is genuine equality.
Prejudice causes subjugation and oppression, born from a desire to obtain or retain
power. Sexism is a form of prejudice
that has a logical progression, evolving from the biological necessity of females
staying close to newborns for the sake of survival, and therefore males leaving
the home in order to provide sustenance for all. And while the women were nursing and
subsequently nurturing the offspring, it only made sense for men to provide
protection. Ergo, men are strong and
women are weak, so men must be in charge.
These days,
political, economic and personal injustices feel insurmountable, so we hide in
our insular worlds, immobilized by the enormity of the task. Lamentably, popular culture increasingly objectifies
women to the point where women have embraced the notion themselves, measuring
their own worth strictly on their appearance, and against the results of
professional lighting, Photoshop, and plastic surgery. In other words, an impossible yardstick.
We can’t
give up the fight, though:
The gender
pay gap is real, isn’t significantly improving, and the rate of equalization
has actually decreased over the last 6 years (AAUW).
Only 6.4% of
Fortune 500 companies have a female CEO (Fortune).
Worldwide,
only 7% of countries are led by women (Pew Research Center).
Women in the
United States represent only 20% of Congress and 21% of the Senate, although
they represent 51% of our population (Rutgers Eagleton Institute of Politics).
More than
600 women are sexually assaulted every day in the United States alone (Bureau
of Justice).
Being a
feminist doesn’t mean I want to be just like a man. I don’t want to be just like anyone
else. It also doesn’t mean that I hate
or even dislike men. What I do want,
though, is to be considered just as capable, just as worthy, just as respectable,
and just as valuable as anyone else, male, female or non-binary. I want to be judged on my intelligence,
abilities, and contribution.
Feminism doesn’t
have a fixed definition. For me, it’s
making sure I can take care of myself and that my children have a healthy,
powerful, independent female role model.
Providing that role model gives me strength when I need it – to take a
stand, to make a difference, to forge ahead. It also means supporting women in
positions of power and judging them by the same standards by which I would
judge a man in the same position. And it’s OK if my brand of feminism includes
making a hell of a chocolate cake and crocheting a really cozy blanket.
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