I am a feminist (and so can you)

(I wrote this post because this is something I spend a lot of time thinking about, but not a lot of time talking about. And I really want to talk about it. I want to hear if people agree with me or disagree. I'm still forming my own opinions about it, and I want to know what other people think. So if you have a thought, please share it, even if you think I'm wrong. I'm in the process of trying to figure this whole thing out. And I'm not so fragile that finding out that people disagree with me is going to hurt my feelings.)

This shouldn't be a surprise to anyone, but I'm saying it anyway: I am a feminist.

But I haven't always called myself that. Growing up, I was naive and sheltered and that thought "feminist" meant someone who hated all men. A thought which never made any sense to me. Saying anything about "all men" is just as demeaning as saying things about "all women" and I couldn't wrap my head around how someone could say "Women are just as important as men, and all men are pigs." in the same breath. But I did not actually know any feminists, or at least no-one I knew called themselves that aloud. So my definition of feminism came only from people who were against it.

And I didn't have a bad expirence. I met my share of rude guys, but I never assumed that they were treating me badly because they hated women, I just figured they were jerks. I met plenty of rude girls as well, and since I didn't think that women couldn't be sexist I didn't feel like sexism affected me. Which is a lot like saying that air pollution doesn't bother me because I keep my windows rolled up when I'm stuck in traffic. Just because it isn't making me cough right now, doesn't mean that I'm not breathing it in or that I'm not contributing to it.

I came to my feminism a little differently than most. See, I had these two adorable baby boys. And I began to pay attention to all the messages that society was subtly (and not so subtly) sending them. That they had to prove their manhood. That it wasn't enough to simply be born male, at every turn, they had to defend their true manliness. Because of course, the worst thing a boy can be is. . . .  like a girl.

And I watched adults try to make them feel ashamed for even the smallest deviations from what they thought a boy should be. My son was told he couldn't compliment someone's key-chain because it was pink. And that he couldn't be interested in my nail polish. It was so frustrating to me. My boys hadn't done anything wrong and people were trying to make them feel embarrassed. It was especially difficult when one of the boys would be demeaned for trying to copy me. I could see the confusion in their eyes. I was the center of their small world, and they were being told that being a kind, fun person like their mother was wrong. Like I was the worst thing they could aspire to be.

I got really good at intercepting those kinds of comments, and don't you dare ever tell one of my sons to "man up" while I'm around, because you will get an earful. But I know I can't filter the whole world for them, and I don't want to. So I began to study how to protect my boys, how to teach them, how to let them become themselves. And I found the answers in feminist theory. Or at least, the beginnings of the answers.

And then I had my girls, and my world opened up even more. I hadn't noticed before how often I use "he" and "his" as a default. It didn't bother me much to use "man" and "mankind" as a synonym for "people". I just dismissed it as an unfortunate, dated, but probably unchangeable tradition. But then my daughter started asking me to sing songs "the girl way". Did you know that the five little monkeys don't all have to be boys? "HE fell off and bumped his head" It never occurred to me to sing it any differently. Or the little turtle, or the slippery fish? All these things she felt like she couldn't participate with, because it was just for boys.

And then one night, I was watching a talk show. The guest had just written a book. She had a fascinating job; (I can't remember all the details - I'll try and look it up for you). And when she walked on to the set and the first thing I thought was how beautiful she was. She looked like a model for business suits, and she wasn't white. So here she is, this gorgeous woman of color with a successful career, and I loved every second of the interview. As I tried to tell my husband about it later, I had a hard time explaining exactly why it struck me. I said, "...because he just had a normal conversation with her. He conducted the interview like she was a normal person." What I meant was, the interviewer treated her like a man. He didn't mention her looks, he never asked her if it was hard to be a minority, he was genuinely interested in what she had to say.

And I'm very embarrassed that the words I used to describe how men treat other men were "like a normal person". I've come to understand that that is what people mean when they talk about patriarchy. It means that our society treats white men as the default setting for human, and everyone else is somehow less important or deviant.

Now I don't want to get into an argument about semantics, ultimately it is our beliefs that matter - not the exact words we use. But our words are a reflection of how we think, and in that case, my thinking was wrong and it showed in my words.

I also don't want to get into an argument about nature vs nurture. Actually, I do. Just not right now. I find the whole concept fascinating and complicated, but it can not possibly be resolved anytime soon, we simply don't know enough about how our genetics interact with our surroundings. So I'm not going to say that there are not differences between men and women. Of course there are. Some are hard wired and some are taught, and we could discuss for hours which are which. But I am going to say that if the differences were SO huge and obvious, we wouldn't spend so much time and energy on exaggerating them. And in the end, what difference does it make with how I raise my children? And how I treat everyone around me?

I try to focus on one simple fact: Boys and girls are equally valuable and have equal potential for success and they deserve an equal chance.

That is really all there is to it. That is what I mean when I say I am a feminist.

I think that feminists get a bad reputation because they tend to look at statistics like "one in three girls will be sexually assaulted by the age of 18" (yes, in the US) and only "16% of our country's politicians are women" and "women earn between $0.60 - $0.77 for every dollar that men do for the same job" and they get mad.

And people don't really want to join a cause that makes them angry - it is an unpleasant emotion, and its a turnoff. But that anger is because they can not accept it. A feminist hasn't given up hope on the human race just yet. Most sane people would agree that those things are bad, but a lot of the people I talk to think there is nothing we can do about it.

And I won't accept that. You can not look at the faces of my sons and tell me that they will never be able to control their sex drives, and that they will grow into violence.  You can not look at my daughters and pick which one "deserves" to be assaulted because of her clothing choices, and that they are not as smart as their brothers.

What we allow is what will continue. And I say: we can do better. I'm not wanting to point fingers or blame anyone, what I want is for us to not give up hope. Our world can be a better place. Let's not give up. Let's all be feminists!