There has been a lot of talk lately about women and their role(s) in society, and I've been watching with a lot of interest. I haven't done much participating, except in hand-gesturey rants to the wonderfully understanding dude late at night. This "war on women" is hazy at best. Because it's such a grey area, it's easy for either side to suggest that it's not real (or that it is). Every attack is from the side, and every barrage is really just a suggestion.
In the recent political campaigns, women have been reduced to numbers, which are quite black and white. 99% of us use some form of contraception. We make seventy-seven cents to every dollar that a man makes (or do we?). We make up 46.7% of the workforce, but are CEOs of only seventeen of the Fortune 500 companies. Sixty-six of us rank career high on our list of life priorities (and have been duly warned by men that we'll have to make tough decisions as a result). Maybe the key to untangling all these numbers is to actually ask women what their experiences have been. I thought I'd start by sharing mine, because if there's one thing I'm qualified to write about, it's my own life.
My family is 5/6ths women. I didn't grow up feeling less-than within my family, but I grew up in a generation of girls who saw a weird kind of feminism- the sex-as-power, girly girl movement. The message aimed at us as we came of age at the Millennium was that the only kind of dependable power was the power that came from our bodies. If we couldn't be everything that a male could be, we could at least dominate them with our feminine wiles. This message came from the media, from the music. Susan J. Douglas has an in-depth discussion of this in her fantastic book, and when I read it, my entire young adulthood made sense.
My late teens and early twenties were clouded with mixed messages. As a flute performance major, I was surrounded by women flutists- but I was told to take off my shoes at an orchestral audition so that the committee behind the screen wouldn't know my gender. As a practitioner of yoga, I was simultaneously practicing among women and studying a lineage of male teachers. My professors told me that women were more powerful than ever- but a female president was (and is) a pipe dream at best (and at worst, a joke). Every sitcom featured a female lead who could be reduced to rubble by her PMS, and at least for that week, was more of a laughingstock than her male partner. My classmates and friends habitually referred to women (myself included) as "sluts," especially for no-nos like having a late-night conversation with an opposite-gender friend, or going home early to make a phone call to a long-distance relationship. I was an invitee to a party thrown by a well-known older male musician, because he wanted to have a party full of "young women." (I did not attend, and heard later that several women had been groped by the man.) One of my male employers offered kindly to go do my job for me (my first day, with no history of failure on my part to do my job), as he wasn't sure I had the "clout" to get a pianist to rehearsal; another asked if my relocation plans involved "moving for one guy, or are you just going to sleep around?"
Are these major things? No, not really. Have I ever been a blatant recipient of gender-related unequal pay? Not that I have direct evidence of (although I strongly suspect that I was, at one point). Have I ever been fired for something gender related? Nope.
But it's the suggestion. It's that little grey area where enough people hint that you might be unstable because your hormones could be running rampant. That your physical attributes determine your ability to do your job. That you are invited to participate not because of your work, your expertise, your ability, but rather because of your butt and chest. It's that little suggestion that gets in there, and after a few hundred times, starts to make women unsure of themselves. This is quiet warfare. This is a subtle, constant barrage of hints that we are not the same, we are not stable, we are not good enough.
In my lifetime, "feminist" has become a dirty word. "Feminist" has become an insult. Half the time, "feminists" refers to a group of loud-mouthed, pushy, bitchy women who believe that they should be afforded every opportunity without putting in the work (or having the brains). Before I go on with my defense, I have to say that feminism has its issues. I'm writing from a position of racial privilege, and feminism hasn't been kind to women of color. There are lots of angles of feminism that I don't understand, don't support, or haven't researched adequately, but I do know that the systematic tearing down of the word "feminist" (at least in this way) is an attack on women- at least a good chunk of a part of us, if not all of us.
In the recent political campaigns, women have been reduced to numbers, which are quite black and white. 99% of us use some form of contraception. We make seventy-seven cents to every dollar that a man makes (or do we?). We make up 46.7% of the workforce, but are CEOs of only seventeen of the Fortune 500 companies. Sixty-six of us rank career high on our list of life priorities (and have been duly warned by men that we'll have to make tough decisions as a result). Maybe the key to untangling all these numbers is to actually ask women what their experiences have been. I thought I'd start by sharing mine, because if there's one thing I'm qualified to write about, it's my own life.My family is 5/6ths women. I didn't grow up feeling less-than within my family, but I grew up in a generation of girls who saw a weird kind of feminism- the sex-as-power, girly girl movement. The message aimed at us as we came of age at the Millennium was that the only kind of dependable power was the power that came from our bodies. If we couldn't be everything that a male could be, we could at least dominate them with our feminine wiles. This message came from the media, from the music. Susan J. Douglas has an in-depth discussion of this in her fantastic book, and when I read it, my entire young adulthood made sense.
My late teens and early twenties were clouded with mixed messages. As a flute performance major, I was surrounded by women flutists- but I was told to take off my shoes at an orchestral audition so that the committee behind the screen wouldn't know my gender. As a practitioner of yoga, I was simultaneously practicing among women and studying a lineage of male teachers. My professors told me that women were more powerful than ever- but a female president was (and is) a pipe dream at best (and at worst, a joke). Every sitcom featured a female lead who could be reduced to rubble by her PMS, and at least for that week, was more of a laughingstock than her male partner. My classmates and friends habitually referred to women (myself included) as "sluts," especially for no-nos like having a late-night conversation with an opposite-gender friend, or going home early to make a phone call to a long-distance relationship. I was an invitee to a party thrown by a well-known older male musician, because he wanted to have a party full of "young women." (I did not attend, and heard later that several women had been groped by the man.) One of my male employers offered kindly to go do my job for me (my first day, with no history of failure on my part to do my job), as he wasn't sure I had the "clout" to get a pianist to rehearsal; another asked if my relocation plans involved "moving for one guy, or are you just going to sleep around?"
Are these major things? No, not really. Have I ever been a blatant recipient of gender-related unequal pay? Not that I have direct evidence of (although I strongly suspect that I was, at one point). Have I ever been fired for something gender related? Nope.
But it's the suggestion. It's that little grey area where enough people hint that you might be unstable because your hormones could be running rampant. That your physical attributes determine your ability to do your job. That you are invited to participate not because of your work, your expertise, your ability, but rather because of your butt and chest. It's that little suggestion that gets in there, and after a few hundred times, starts to make women unsure of themselves. This is quiet warfare. This is a subtle, constant barrage of hints that we are not the same, we are not stable, we are not good enough.
In my lifetime, "feminist" has become a dirty word. "Feminist" has become an insult. Half the time, "feminists" refers to a group of loud-mouthed, pushy, bitchy women who believe that they should be afforded every opportunity without putting in the work (or having the brains). Before I go on with my defense, I have to say that feminism has its issues. I'm writing from a position of racial privilege, and feminism hasn't been kind to women of color. There are lots of angles of feminism that I don't understand, don't support, or haven't researched adequately, but I do know that the systematic tearing down of the word "feminist" (at least in this way) is an attack on women- at least a good chunk of a part of us, if not all of us.
Did you listen to Anna Quindlen today? http://www.npr.org/programs/fresh-air/
ReplyDeleteThanks for this! I thought her ideas about raising feminist boys were especially interesting- I didn't have time to listen to the entire thing, but I'll be making time later on.
ReplyDeleteOn one hand, I think the feminist movement, in terms of narrowing any opportunity or reward gaps between men and women, has accomplished its goals. I think that, on one hand, women are as likely as men now to be well-educated and hold powerful careers, or be well-respected in whatever they choose to do.
ReplyDeleteOne issue I have with the continued feminism push and a flawed part of its philosophy, which the "End Equal Pay Myth" touches on is that feminism often villifies what it is to be a woman, while celebrating what it is to be a man. I imagine you can remember times or articles when feminists would attack stay-at-home moms, for example. Women, by natural default, have options, emotions, and callings that men will never ever have. This is something that in the hard push for things like equal job opportunity or equal pay feminists have at times not taken into consideration.
I find the feminine wiles argument fascinating, because in truth, it says a lot more about men than women. How many women have been ousted due to idiotic sexual practices? There are few, if any, correlating females to men like John Edwards or Eliot Spitzer, to name two. Men are incredibly susceptible to their penis and, I believe, as a result, there is a subtle current of hatred towards women that's been prevalent in history since the advent of Christianity and most other modern religions. Western Civilization might as well be a far-reaching social experiment about the consequences of having external genitalia. I'm not kidding.
Understand that women don't need feminism to be powerful; women are innately powerful already due to male biology. Why else would men be attracted to tits and ass, but terrified by brains? Think about that for a second - that all it can take is a set of biological organs to give a woman complete power over a man. That, right there, is why men are so quick to patronize women or belittle them. Men are, and have been for millennia, terrified of women. It's no coincidence that the advent of male power in Western civilization coincided with the complete and utter fall of female power. Look back prior to those times and see for yourself; women were venerated once and their role as birthers celebrated. Most early religions have central female figures, and even many of the historical religions (Greek, Roman, Babylonian, etc) featured male and female deities on equal footing.
(apologies for the rambling nature of the comment)
You asked me once why Christianity seemed to dislike/hate women. I didn't have a good answer for you at the time, because I was a relatively new Christian, but you may not know that I've been thinking about that question for 8+ years.
ReplyDeleteI actually took a class on women in religious traditions as part of my undergrad. I've read and written extensively on the matter. If you ever want a better, though not necessarily satisfying, answer, I'd be happy to have the conversation belatedly :-)