When I first learned about the concept of feminism, I was pretty doe-eyed about the idea of a “sisterhood.” It was inspirational to imagine women across the globe united in a collective consciousness, a struggle for equal rights, with all of us supporting each other like an extended family.
Obviously this imagined collective has not much to do with reality. We don’t have to look far to see that sisters don’t necessarily band together; in fact, it’s not completely unheard of for girls to be catty and jealous towards each other, at any age, and to any degree of bitchiness. We judge each other on everything from our clothes to our lifestyle choices, and it doesn’t just stop after high school.
If our empathy doesn’t even stretch across the hallway, how could it possibly stretch all the way to women of other nations, races, classes, or ages? Whoever came up with the idea of sisterhood was a hopeful soul suffering from a serious delusion.
Granted, it’s a nice enough idea, but even when the idea of it was being envisioned, it was only among middle-class white women who were ignoring the female experience of women of color, women in poverty, women of different ages, sizes, sexual orientations, and so on. The “third wave” of feminism (post-’60s/’70s movement) has now washed ashore an understanding of intersecting diversity, but we have a long way to go before it’s more clearly understood that sexist oppression is still affecting women across the world in countless different ways.
I have overheard more than one girl claiming proudly that she is not a feminist; that we are beyond the need for women’s rights; that feminists are all hairy lesbians who don’t care about their bodies. Somehow those arguments still exist, even though the same women who wouldn’t call themselves feminists feel the effects of discrimination, often without knowing it. Even my liberal mom was adamant that oppression doesn’t affect her, even though she is a middle-aged mother of four and an immigrant who now works in daycare and doesn’t get paid nearly as much as she and everyone else in her field deserve.
I started identifying with this label of “feminist” slowly, but the more I learned the more I realized I am down with this fight. I introduced a couple of friends to some fun feminist reading that I thought might urge them to defend their civil rights; I wanted people in my life to know that they could make significant changes just by seeing the world in a new light – maybe even in a way as small and simple as keeping the lipstick, but understanding why they use it. After some positive feedback, it seemed like sharing wasn’t a bad idea at all. If you have time to read anything besides textbooks or are so excited for summer you are making a beach-list already, here are two quickies that introduce some (Western) feminist ideas in light but eloquent ways:
Full Frontal Feminism by Jessica Valenti, Seal Press, 2007
Jessica Valenti, a feminist blogger, glammed up a “sexy” book in which each chapter addresses a different feminist concern. Valenti discusses issues from consumerism to pop culture; reproductive rights to politics; (straight) sex to masculinity. While this book is certainly useful to beginners, it should have a disclaimer regarding its style: Valenti uses language that devalues her education and the whole outlook is relatively mainstream-straight, white, young, etc. It’s not all bad though; thanks to Valenti’s dirty street talk, someone like my 17-year-old sister has, for the first time, found a feminist writer she can relate to. Despite the book’s suggestiveness that Valenti is selling feminism with oppressive sex itself, there is still value in the fact that the content is highly accessible and manages to make plenty of worthwhile points.
Female Chauvinist Pigs by Ariel Levy, First Free Press, 2005
Ariel Levy’s “FCP” is another introduction to feminism. Like Valenti’s book, Levy’s is a collection of chapters addressing feminist issues. Personally I much prefer Levy’s style, which is light and accessible, but still tasteful. She discusses the same kind of women’s history that Valenti does, but focuses a little more clearly on the “raunch culture” of our current generation and the upcoming one, “pigs in training.” Everyone has an opinion, and some feminists frown upon Levy’s disgust with behavior that some women really do find liberating, such as stripping or supporting porn. In the end you have to just accept “to each their own” (because hey, everyone’s a critic), but the value in this book is clear. I would personally recommend it not only to young women everywhere, but also to their mothers who might like to better understand where our generation is coming from.