It’s not a secret amongst those who know me on campus that I am a feminist. I’m open about it, I’m always willing to talk about it, and much to the surprise and occasional dismay of those who learn this about me, I’m not an asshole about it.
It was someone in the Generation office who once said to me “You’re a feminist? But you’re so nice!” The comment was a joke, but I think it also points to something deeply ingrained in our society, something we have the Rush Limbaughs and Andrea Dworkins of the world to thank for: the femi-nazi archetype is now projected on us all, all 25% of us American women who consciously label ourselves feminists, according to a Gallop poll from 2001. This number doesn’t even count the millions of closeted “I’m not a feminist, but I believe in equal rights for women and men” variety.
The “I’m not a feminist, but…” preface to statements is becoming all the more common. To identify as a feminist anymore has become quite the faux-paux because of the negative attributes that popular culture has placed on the community. To clear the air, the majority of us are not like that. We don’t all hate fun; we don’t all lack a sense of humor. We’re not all lesbians (but we do love those of us who are), we’ve never actually ever burned our bras, and a lot of us aren’t even women. And if you believe that women are people deserving of the same rights as men, then the chances are, whether you’re a man or a woman, gay or straight, you’re a feminist, too.
Some people question whether or not we even require feminism as a movement anymore. As if the demonization of the community isn’t evidence enough of the communal and institutional oppression of women, some people would question the merit of such a publication described in “Rewriting Herstory” by Caitlin Tremblay. I’d suspect that one quick skim of the future publication would have those who claim a feminist voice isn’t necessary anymore questioning that assertion. Honestly, if we are treated the same and if inequalities are a thing of the past, then why is it, according to EndAbuse.org, 25% of American women reported being raped and women are seven to 14 times more likely than men to suffer from severe physical assaults from an intimate partner? Why is it that we see the abuse of women even on our own campus, just a couple of feet from our own dorm rooms?
The truth of the matter is these inequalities still exist. Perhaps stateside they aren’t as blatant and open as they were 100 years ago, but they still exist, and even the smallest gap of inequality is worth fighting for.
Furthermore, as we become an increasingly global society, it’s also important for us to shift our focus from our own issues, to the issues of women all over the world. That’s exactly what Heidi Izaguirre is doing when opening a chapter of Circle of Women on our campus, as reported in “Coming Full Circle” on page six. The women in both Afghanistan and Iraq have been tremendously affected by Operation Enduring Freedom and Operation Iraqi Freedom, the main goals of which, according to President Bush, are to protect “freedom and liberty.” As we’ve seen so far though, that freedom and liberty seems to only apply to Americans. The Washington Post and the New York Times have reported that women in Iraq who have lived rather free lives for many years have been markedly absent in the public sphere since the war began. Similarly, the Human Right’s Watch December 2002 report on Afghanistan shows that for many women in the country, the reality of freedom and equality has not been realized; in many parts of the country women face restrictions and human rights violations that parallel those under Taliban rule. As a society, we have pioneered the world of globalization, and regardless of what your stance is on the phenomenon, you can’t deny that we hold a responsibility to these communities affected by our actions, and Circle of Women is a great example of what we could do to help.
After looking at these facts, it’s hard to understand why someone would think feminism isn’t relevant anymore. Women’s rights are human rights, and the reality is, it often isn’t seen that way. That is why the activists in Buffalo like Heidi Izaguirre, Amy Betros in “Lentil Soup for the Soul” and Marina Wright, who are working diligently to bring these issues to the public eye through radically different methods, should be applauded. It’s my hope that through the examples of these programs, University at Buffalo as a community can finally understand feminism for what it is, and take the appropriate steps to make UB, and ultimately our world, a place that is equal for all.
