This week I became a feminist (even if neither side wants me)
Pussy hats. Angry shouting. Abortion rights. Men-hating.
This is feminism to me; at least it was before this week.
Before this week, I felt irritated by the feminist movement. Don't get me wrong; I'm for women. For goodness sake, I am a woman. I'm independent, strong willed, and care deeply for fairness and the wellness of others.
But good golly... feminists. *long exhale*
On January 21 2017, when the world watched women passionately march for their beliefs, I sat at home feeling rejected, irrelevant and shamed. I watched the news and witnessed social media explode with photos of women being powerful, making themselves heard. And yet there I sat feeling powerless and unheard because I realized this:
This was a profound moment for women but not for women like me.
When two pro-life organizations (And Then There Were None and New Wave Feminists) were denied partnership and sponsorship for the march, it was clear this wasn't a march for all women; it was a pro-choice march led by women taking a stand against the new president/administration.
If I didn't hate Trump, I didn't belong.*
If I wasn't pro-choice, I didn't belong.
If I wasn't angry, I didn't belong.**
I was ostracized from my own sisterhood.
(*I didn't vote for Trump but it seemed if I didn't hate people who did , I didn't belong. **I should have been more angry. More on that in a moment.)
So I sat on the outside looking in at feminism (that didn't want me) and it smelled foul.
Until I met Missy.
Many of you know that our unlikely friendship started just 8 months ago. We clicked instantly! It was awesome; awesome until I befriended her on Facebook and saw all her pro-choice posts. My stomach churned.
Despite our significant differences, we became fast friends. Here's the thing though. Missy is anti-Trump, pro-choice and angry. Her Facebook banner is currently a picture of her yelling passionately into a microphone at a women's march dawning a bright pink woven pussy hat. So ya.
But being in close authentic relationship with a passionate feminist got me thinking...
There's a good reason my friend is mad.
This president has said awful things about women. Companies still pay women less than men doing the same job. And when photos are published of government committees, it's disheartening and frustrating to see all old white men. We are grossly underrepresented in leadership (in government and business).
To be clear, it's not that these things didn't bother me before. They certainly did. But two things tempered my anger. First, I believe that I'm strong enough to roll up my sleeves, bust through any glass ceiling, and prove them wrong! Which may be naive but that's my disposition to opposition. Secondly, admittedly, my gratitude for progress over the last few generations created complacency in the less-extreme sexism of our day. (I don't have to use the back door to attend an executive meeting with my male counterparts like my grandma was instructed to do.) While it's true we're not in the 50's anymore, I'm recognizing that inequality on any level should make us mad. (For the record, extreme sexism still exists.)
Anger is an appropriate response to oppression.
The problem is when it turns reckless. It becomes an accusatory, defensive, mean-spirited, hateful monster. And boy, it's shocking how quickly unchecked anger can devastate progress and conversation.
I've personally learned this in marriage. Feeling angry isn't wrong but my words spoken in anger is. My wording and tone matters if I want to have a productive conversation about something I believe so passionately about. There's time for venting in my safe places but if I want to inspire change in others, I must be more strategic.
Being justified in anger doesn't give your ideas more power; it can inhibit your influence.
Over the years, the loud angry shouting of feminism kept me from hearing it's relevant and compassionate heartbeat.
Until this week.
This week I sat down with Missy and did a live Facebook video about feminism - totally unscripted. Boy did we practice love and grace while not seeing eye-to-eye! There are issues (for example, affordable housing) that Missy sees as a gender issue (affront against women) and I simply don't see it that way. *Big breath*
Afterward, my best friend (ironically also named Missy) sent me this text:
Friends, I'm coming out today as a feminist.
Which is scary because I'm certain most feminists will say I'm indeed NOT because I'm pro-life. Which is hard and messy and if I were to oversimplify an answer to that loaded notion, I'd say this:
I believe government should protect life at all costs, even if it infringes upon the rights of others. (Like when it negates your free will to murder, abuse, drive fast, threaten, or own any weapon you want etc). And because I believe that those cells in the womb is a real baby, truly the most vulnerable people group without a voice, I believe our government should protect them (and it has nothing to do with the Bible or my faith - at least not for me personally - or about wanting to control people.).
Dualities are always confusing.
Confident and humble. Strong and gentle. Angry and grateful. 'Good girl' and force to be reckoned with. Feminist and tempered anger. Feminist and gagging at pussy hats (just ewww). Feminist and trusting of most men (I've felt loved and empowered by too many humble strong men to let the loud detestable few taint the reputation of them all). Feminist and pro-life. And for anyone who says I can't be an advocate for women and be all these things, I'd say...
Watch me try.