I, like pretty much every other self-proclaimed feminist I know, went through that long phase where I was hesitant to “label” myself one.
For me, my reluctance to self-identify as one wasn’t as much about a belief we didn’t need feminism, and more a misguided belief that feminism is a job. Being a “feminist” versus someone who simply believes women are equals was, to me, like the difference between a vegetarian and an animal rights activist. Feminists picketed and lobbied and wrote essays and advocated. I just kind of nodded my head in agreement.
But of course I had my own A-ha episode, that moment where someone tells you the dictionary definition of a feminist and you realized you were one along.
After that moment, I entered my next phase of feminist development: rejecting the idea that you could be anyone with a sense of ethics and still reject the term feminist. I would find those pictures scattered around the Internet with young girls describing why feminism was no longer needed and write scathing rebuttals to deaf ears. I would reblog and retweet every little graphic declaring me a “proud feminist”.
So I was shocked when I heard so many young, progressive voices saying they weren’t feminists. Katy Perry, the woman whose career is based on “girl power”? Shailene Woodley? MADONNA?
Taylor Swift, pre-discovery-of-white-feminism? Okay, I believed that one.
I was even more disgruntled by my friends who said they weren’t feminists. Most of my friends, in all honesty, don’t care that much about social activism and politics, so the subject was simply never broached, but a few of my friends proudly denounced the term.
For a long time, I just argued with them. I would pull out that dictionary definition out time after time, I would counter every argument before it was spoken, I would make it clear that feminists are not angry, ranting, exclusive people while embodying all three of those terms.
Then I realized something. Everyone I cared about who said they weren’t feminists were among the most progressive and political friends I had. While most of my friends never discussed the issue at all, these non-feminist friends could engage in a dialogue with me. They were educated, they cared about social issues, and they all had very liberal ideals. So how could they possibly not proudly call themselves feminists?
So, for the first time, I tried a new tactic. I listened.
What I realized was fascinating. I should not have been surprised these smart, educated people already knew what feminism meant. They weren’t concerned with stereotypes about hairy, angry “feminazis”. As my one friend put it, “there’s a difference between the definition of a feminist and the movement within itself”.
That’s so true.
Feminism, as a political movement, is not the same as a single person who believes in the political, social and economic equality of women. It’s a movement, with its own stances and major players and community. The difference between the movement and the individual was, after all, the reason I didn’t call myself a feminist for years.
What I learned from these conversations was, for the most part, with exceptions, women who don’t call themselves feminists aren’t saying they hate women, or hate themselves. They aren’t just dumb when they say they aren’t feminists but believe in equality, because they aren’t ignoring the meaning of a word. They’re opting out of a movement.
These women are opting out of a movement because they feel that it’s failed them.
In what way? The answer is different for everyone.
Some people were not as upset with feminism as a whole as much with White Feminism- the sugary sweet brand of feminism that likes to use buzzwords like “girl power” and “wage gap” without any focusing on self-education, intersectionality, or feminist issues on a global scale. They felt White Feminism was ignoring their plights. Some felt that feminism, even at its intersectional best, was inherently belittling their needs and wants. They believe modern-day, third wave feminism tears down women who don’t fulfill their standards of empowerment. Of course, I’ve heard feminists say, dozens of times, that “of course” they support women who feel fulfilled by motherhood, feel their domestic contributions are more important to them than their career ones, feel happy with their femininity or decision to wait until marriage to have sex. But a lot of women feel that this the acceptance of so-called “traditional” roles is almost condescending in its tone. They feel that their life choices are still treated like a “second best”, like they’ll be tolerated but not celebrated. The response is always, “if you only you knew what feminism was, you’d know we support you”- without ever asking ourselves, have we been supporting them? I’ve seen feminists just give them a stamp of approval, like these women need hear our okays, but have never read any feminist arguments on why these things can actually be empowering.
Some people were upset by how callous modern- especially millennial- feminists could be. Why should we be reading op-eds about men who stretch their legs on the subway and the inherent misogyny behind cutesy nicknames for female genitalia, when around the world there are millions of women dying from honour killings and FGM? These women understand casual sexism exists, but feel that modern feminism focusing on it is actually failing women and their very real struggles.
Some girls even felt that the fight to normalize sexuality went so far as to make important aspects of sexuality- such as abstinence, asexuality and even monogamy- seem abnormal. I can see their point, after all, I’ve read enough articles about how waiting until marriage is an act of oppression, and yeah, I have found that the earnest attempts to defend teen sexuality can sometimes sound as though the sexually active teen is the only right type- and cool type- of teen there is. I can see these girls’ points. Maybe in our arguments that sex is a good thing, we’ve created a cultural landscape where not having sex is a bad thing.
My one friend- male, and more liberal than I am- argued he wasn’t a feminist. His argument was that feminism fails men. My knee-jerk reaction is to simultaneously respond two ways- firstly, argue that yes feminism is for everyone and taking down patriarchal powers will lead to a better world for men- and argue men are merely allies and feminism doesn’t owe men shit. But instead, I listened to him. I heard him out, and he told me this:
Men face a unique struggle when it comes to fighting for issues that concern them. Men who are in need of shelter in domestic abuse cases quite literally have almost nowhere to turn. Children are constantly placed in the custody of a parent who is not the best person to care for them, because mothers are seen as more important than fathers. Male victims of rape watch their female abusers receive laughably weak sentences, and that’s if they are able overcome the stigma and internalized masculinity that tells them they couldn’t be raped in the first place and report it. If statistics about prison rape are accurate- and considering the real danger men face for reporting it behind bars, they probably are- there are may be more male rape victims every year in America than female. Men are a whopping five times more likely to commit suicide, yet it is never seen as a gendered issue the way sexual violence is. While these issues are real and they are extremely prevalent, they have no resources. Feminists, in this guy’s opinion, were quick to say they cared about men’s issues, but never provided solutions. There are no feminist organizations building shelters for men- in fact many domestic abuse charities specifically cater to only women, despite a number of new studies suggesting the difference between men and women experiencing abuse is much lower than you might expect. Pay equality is almost always a hot button issue in debates, but it’s usually only mentioned that men of colour make far less than 77 cents to the dollar, it’s rarely something that leads to legislative action. There are no marches for equal treatment in custody cases or male-oriented approaches to rape and mental health care. Feminist organizations don’t provide these resources- but are then quick to tear down the idea of “MRAs”. They claim MRAs are frauds, more concerned with stifling women’s progress than supporting men- and these critics are, in my opinion, almost always right. But then that means men have nowhere to turn. They don’t have male groups to look to, they don’t have feminist groups to look to. They have no resources and then are told that feminists don’t owe them shit. If I were in his position, I would probably feel the same way. That’s not a community I would want to identify with.
Something universal that all of these people felt: they felt feminism was exclusive towards them. Rude to them, even. I look back at my avid defenses of feminism, and am maybe thinking that what I would label as “passionate”, could actually fall under the category of “aggressive”.
I’ve changed a few minds on the subject of feminism. Then there’s a few that I haven’t. But either way, I’ve come to realize that the last thing someone who tells you they aren’t a feminist needs to hear is aggression, especially when its other women. They tell us that they feel that this movement doesn’t stand for them, and then we speak over them, tell them why they feel the way they do and why these feelings are invalid. It sounds exactly like the kind of thing they hear from men all the time.
Are all of these issues prevalent throughout the movement? I don’t know for sure- but I do know, whether they are misinformed or not, these are the reasons women don’t want to identify with us. Maybe we should listen. Maybe they can teach us about real issues in our movement, and maybe we can use these concerns to make the movement better. Maybe we would have never made it this far- and wouldn’t have developed intersectionality- without listening and collaborating. Maybe, we need to treat these women like equals in our conversations, not tell them what they’re feeling as though they’re children unable to figure it out on their own. Maybe, when we hear females say they aren’t feminists, instead of saying it’s on her to change her views, maybe it’s on us to accommodate her.
Maybe, if we listen to these women instead of talking over them, we can not only make more feminists, we can make better feminism.
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