Why/How I Am a Feminist

Okay, it's Sunday again, so it is time for another blog post. I figured I'd let you all get to know me a little bit better before I keep going: introduce you to the protagonist before I move the plot forward. Since this blog will focus a lot on feminism, I thought I would tell you all about why I am a feminist, and how I got here. I could go on forever about it (that's kind of the idea behind this blog), but here's the "short" version.

Growing up, my parents never made me feel less than or discouraged me from doing anything because I was a girl. They put me in sports and told me I could be "whatever I wanted" when I grew up. They led by example, and have always been equal in most aspects of their marriage. I was always very "tomboyish", and they didn't make me feel like that was a bad thing, but they weren't the only people who shaped me.

Sometimes when playing a game at soccer practice or school recess, the boys would come over and make fun of the girls for thinking they could play too. This would make me really angry, and usually resulted in a fight between me and whoever made the comment. I was a little on the aggressive side as a kid. I like to think that that kind of energy has turned me into the angry feminist I am today, that that was where it all started.

I went to Catholic school where my teachers were "traditional" and reinforced gender stereotypes. I was smart and I always had an opinion, so my teachers called me "bossy". I always defended myself and then I would get in trouble for talking back. That's when I found out that I like to stand up against injustice. As I got older, I started to look more mature. I would get cat called when I walked home from school or my mom dropped me off at the mall with my friends. The first time it happened, I was 12 and walking home from a sleepover at my best friend's house. A guy pulled up in a car next to me and yelled "hey sexy!" out the window. I had never been so scared in my life. I ran home crying. Older women I knew started talking to me about how I dressed and said the crop tops I wore when I was younger were inappropriate for me now. I didn't understand why, but I felt so ashamed and dirty. It got to a point where I was afraid to go out in public without a group of friends around me.

In 7th grade, my school invited some Christian Abstinence Program to come and talk to us. They told us that if we ever had sex before marriage, we were worthless and disgusting and that no one would ever love us again. They told us we had to dress conservatively, because sometimes boys can't control themselves, and it was our responsibility to not be a temptation. They made us sign little cards promising to be virgins until marriage, and told us that when we got married we were supposed to show them to our husbands. It took me years to realize that all these things were lies.

It wasn't until high school that I knew about feminism. And I'll admit that at first I thought it was about lesbianism, hairy armpits, and hating men. I remember hearing people talk about it with such contempt in their voices. "You know she's a feminist, right?" they'd say to me when talking about someone they knew, and spit the word out like it left a bad taste in their mouths. Feminists were always the villains of the pro-choice rhetoric we were fed in my classes. Whether it was Youth Group trips to the March for Life or videos of abortion procedures in Theology class, feminists were the enemy: selfish women who stabbed to death their unborn defenseless children as a way to escape the consequences of their promiscuous life style. (I'll admit not every pro-choice person I encountered portrayed it in this way, but the fact that this happened at all is what pisses me off now.) And I totally bought into it.

Then I watched Gloria: In Her Own Words on HBO with my sister one night. It was like Gloria Steinem (whose birthday was yesterday. Happy Birthday, my Feminist Matriarch) had finally explained to me everything I had ever experienced, and said "you are not alone". It was like I was seeing for the first time. It was then that I realized that feminism was about equality, and that the bad rep it gets is a consequence of the hegemonic power of the patriarchy. I started to educate myself. I wanted to know everything. And that quest continues to be something of a journey.

My senior year, I was introduced to the idea of intersectional feminism, and the realization that the LGBTQ community and people of color experience kinds of discrimination that are difference from my own, and that while being a woman means there are privileges I don't experience, being straight, white, and educated means there are aspects of my life that I completely take for granted and that not everyone else experiences. I remember hearing about Trayvon Martin, and realizing how much injustice there was out there about which I had been completely ignorant. Something I struggle with a lot is the idea that at some point, I have probably participated in the oppression of another person, and because I didn't know what I was doing, I can't remember it. It is possible that that still occurs. Just because I am woke, doesn't mean I am perfect. I still have a lot of learning to do. (If you are reading this and I have ever committed a micro aggression or worse against you, please know that I am truly sorry. It is only in the last 6 years or so that I have become self-aware.) And obviously I realize that other countries are not where the U.S. is in terms of feminism, and that the movement has to be about all women. I don't have the ability to protest for women's rights in other countries, but I do donate to their causes when I can.

Today, with the political situation the way it is, it seems almost impossible to have a conversation without the subject of feminism arising. And I'll admit that even I get tired of it sometimes. I'm certainly still mourning Hillary Clinton's loss, and it can be exhausting having to argue your point all the time (however, if anyone has any questions or comments about this post, I am always open to feedback), but I think it is a sign that we are moving in the right direction. What keeps me going is knowing that every single woman I have ever looked up to in my entire life (and there have been countless) has experienced this struggle as well, and every single one of them has kept going.