A brand in crisis

There are times when I'm quite certain Mr G is grateful for my company. There are also times when I'm quite certain he is not. Like the other night at 10pm when we were hopping into bed and I launched into a discussion about why he is, in fact, a feminist. A few minutes later, when I slowed to draw breath, I noticed a vaguely familiar look in his eyes. How did I get on this train? And where the hell is the exit?? Alas, there was no exit, such is the reality of marriage late at night in a small flat. So he acquiesced and a long conversation ensued.

He does not consider himself a feminist because to him gender doesn't matter. He considers himself a genderist. Or an equalist. Whatever label he chooses, to my mind, the fact gender doesn’t matter to him is precisely what makes him a feminist. It's the same reason I would describe my dad and my grandfather as staunch feminists. Not because they were burning bras or marching for women’s rights throughout my childhood, at least, not to my knowledge. Rather they have always treated my sister and I in exactly the same way they have my brother. Being a girl has never made any difference to them. And, to me, that is the very reason for feminism’s being. To make life the same for guys and girls. Because aside from childbirth and the neatest way to use the bathroom, our anatomy shouldn’t really dictate too much else in daily life. (Trust me about the bathroom though. For the sake of anonymity I won’t name names but one of my daughters recently tried standing up and it’s unnecessarily messy.)

Anyway. The real question is why, when sleep is a precious and scarce commodity in my life, would I sit up in bed late at night trying to convince Mr G to embrace the F-word? I’m afraid the answer is not entirely rational. There is just something inside me that really really cares about it. Enough to even sacrifice sleep. Essentially I want him to claim the word the same way I want you to. Because feminism, the glorious movement that delivered generations of women the right to vote, the right to get paid, the right to marry and to work, the right to wear jeans, the right to make our own choices, is in crisis. And for me, my dear readers, that is a crisis in itself. 

On the one hand we have women like Yahoo chief executive Marissa Mayer and supermodel Miranda Kerr, fobbing it off. Stating on the record, in no uncertain terms, that despite leading lives that are only possible because of the trail blazed by the original feminists, they do not consider themselves feminists. And whilst that frustrates me I understand it. Because on the other hand we have, as an ugly case in point, the reaction to the passing of Margaret Thatcher. We have this vicious war of words, with commentators sniping and griping, scrutinising whether Thatcher was indeed an adequate feminist, whether she adequately supported women, whether she adequately held the office of prime minister. And it maddens me.

Because all of this ugly carry-on, masquerading as feminism, happens too frequently. And it explains, easily, why women like Marissa and Miranda, and even men like Mr G, and probably a great number of you, are so keen to resist the term. Once again, you might be wondering, why does it matter? 

Look, maybe it doesn't but, maybe, there is just a huge misunderstanding about what feminism actually means. And it's at this point that my personal passion, rational or not, pops up and I can't suppress it. You see, I honestly believe it's a simple case of mistaken identity. I think feminists are being confused with feminazis. And there is a HUGE difference. A feminazi is angry, elitist and exclusive and cane make feminism seem like a wholly unattractive proposition. But it's not. 

For a long time I have dreamt about convening a global meeting to talk this through, to rebrand the big F word. To get some clarity about what it means and, more importantly, why it matters. Then it finally hit me. If I want this to happen I need to do it myself. So consider yourselves convened. Go and get every thinking female and male in your life, pour a cup of tea, a glass of wine, a gin, whatever. Just get comfortable because I don’t want anyone leaving this screen until we're all singing from the same sing sheet. Cool?

Before you ask, I haven’t done gender studies nor am I closely acquainted with the literature on this subject. My qualifications are far simpler because, in my book, being a feminist is simple. It comes down to this. One simple question. Do you believe your life should be dictated by your anatomy or your choices? I say choices but if you’re unconvinced I’ve prepared some questions to help you hone your answer.

(For any men still reading, consider these questions from the point of view of the women in your life. Whether it’s your mum, your sister, your girlfriend, your daughter, your niece, your wife or your friend that is a girl.)

Sample question 1

Why do you want to have children?

A)   Because you are a woman; or

B)   Because you want to have children

Sample question 2 

Why do you want to work?

A) Because you are a woman; or

B) Because you want to work

Sample question 3

Why do you want to stay at home?

a) Because you are a woman; or

b) Because you want to stay at home

Sample question 4

Why do you want to get married?

a) Because you are a woman; or

b) Because you want to get married.

If you answered mostly Bs you are a feminist!! If you answered mostly As, I’m so sorry to tell you this, you’re a moron. Start answering Bs.

You see the point of feminism, in my book, is not that women all want the same things or believe in the same causes. It is not because we all want to stay at home or because we all want to run banks. It’s not because we all vote liberal or because we all vote labor. The whole point of feminism is having the choice to be who we want. At least it should be.

It’s the reason I found it infuriating that there is even debate about whether Thatcher was a feminist. “But she hated women” and “She was cruel” … are a few of the lines I’ve read as explanations for her not being a feminist. Admittedly, this might be the point where having done a literature review might help me, but I honestly don’t think the feminist movement was brought about because women wanted to shackle other women with the expectation that they would be left leaning, sympathetic to those poorer than themselves and badly groomed.

Feminism came about because women wanted to rid themselves of shackles. They didn’t want their lives destined by their anatomy. They wanted choice. Thatcher exercised choice. She chose to live her life according to her beliefs rather than any expectations on her gender. It’s also worth noting she did it during a time when doing so required even more conviction than it might now. The fact she was a right wing politician doesn’t change that. The fact she cared for her appearance doesn’t change that. The fact her policies had brutal consequences doesn’t change that. 

Because feminism is not a political persuasion. It is a choice and merely a starting point for the rest of your choices; the platform from which you choose whatever direction you like. It does not mean you have to agree with, like or support every other woman on the planet. It means you make the choice to agree with, like and support whomever you want. Man. Woman. Dog. Up to you. It does not mean you must hate men or vote labor. It means you can choose to hate whomever you want and vote however you want. It does not mean being averse to shaving or baking or working. You can be all those things or none of those things if you choose but it is not implicit in being a feminist. At least it isn’t under my regime.

And you know what? I’m going out on a limb here, my regime is good. It makes sense and it’s simple. And I want you to want my regime. Not just because I’m needy and want your support but because we need it. For ourselves, for our friends, for our peers, for our kids and for theirs. Because, my dear readers, I’m afraid there is still work to do. Like it or not, there is a significant divide between what women and men are paid. From the very first day we enter the workforce women are being paid 80 cents in the dollar compared with men. That is fact. (And just FYI, our university fees, rent and taxes are not given a corresponding discount).

There is still an enormous disconnect between the proportion of women educated and the proportion of women holding senior office. In universities, banks, hospitals, board rooms and government. In almost every sector. And these things aren’t going to tweak themselves. Not without our support and encouragement. They will only change when enough of us, men as much as women, make a conscious decision, to bring about change. It need not be radical or rebellious change. 

It’s just a frame of mind. To let choice prevail over gender. And the wonderful word for all that sensible stuff is feminism. So folks I’m pleading with you to stand with me on this one. If you can’t bring yourself to call yourself a feminist, at the very least, could you please consider rebranding feminism in your head? Even Mr G agreed to this in the end*.

PS. Whilst we’re talking equality let’s also give a massive double handed high-five to New Zealand’s politicians for making their marriage laws fair and equal. What fantastically enlightened neighbours we have! I know a few weeks ago I said nothing good comes from comparisons but if there was ever a time to keep up with the Joneses this is it.   

*Admittedly, this may have been because, for all intents and purposes, he was asleep.