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Feminisms

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Hypothetically, let’s say I was I was interviewed by a local reporter a few weeks ago. And, since this is a hypothetical situation I’ll go ahead and leave the reporter nameless. Again, this is all just for kicks and giggles as I would have to make this sort of story up, right?

I was initially contacted for an article to run prior to March 8, which is International Women’s Day. Ultimately during the interview it became apparent that the interview was on background and that the reporter and I did not see eye to eye. Now, both these points are fine.

I knew that this interview was different than other interviews. I was told that I would have an opportunity to review my quotes. I’m sorry but I do not get that opportunity. I’m not George Clooney or Oprah! At that time I new that I was dealing with the junior varsity squad. Regardless, imagine my surprise when I was asked this question, “So, me and my girlfriend are 25 and like, well, thanks to feminism we are having a hard time finding a man to take care of us.” I started to cough.

“Can you please restate the question.”

She did and it was pretty much the same sentiment. I moved into a spiel about class, race, and education privilege. And the response was, “Oh, I never thought of it that way.” I changed the subject to how so many people don’t really know what feminism is about and how the Feminist Political Thought seminar did a “homework” exercise requiring them to speak to someone about feminism. She listened and our call ended and I realized that the article was going to be interesting.

The article that this reporter wrote essentially argued that feminism has gone too far. My first point of contention. We have feminisms. There are different variants and theories that it’s so easy to condense them into one. A previous post of mine discussed this notion of “Big Old Bad Feminism.” My next major issue with the article is that feminism is not partially blame for overtired, overworked, unhappy women. I do think that economic injustice might be more responsible or a society that does not value women’s paid and unpaid work.

Now I can get to the issue of racialized women. Racialized women in North America do not have equal access to education and are over-represented in the prison industrial complex. They are connected to the criminal justice system more so than their white, middle class cohort. Unfortunately racialized women are also more likely to be victims of domestic violence and not live as long. Then, if we look to all women, we see that they are doing the second or third shift. Women do more care work compared to men. So, has feminism gone too far? No, my friends it has not.

It’s short-sighted and false to make such ridiculous claims. As much as I love my dear, sweet partner–we take care of one another. I could win the Super Lotto tomorrow and I would keep my job. I love it. I’m making a difference in young people’s lives. But, then again, I have more depth to my personality and life experience. Then, I woke up. This was just a random nightmare thanks to my cold medicines. Right?!

Power

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I was lucky enough to give two off campus lectures this week. One was at a local middle school in town and focused on “Teen Lit and Politics.” Talking to teens is an exercise in patience. Some are interested, bored, phoning it in or really focused on making googly eyes with the person sitting behind or beside them! So, you just have to wing it and be prepared for interruptions, giggling, and some good energy!

The second talk I gave was at UBC in Vancouver and this talk was given to a Public Policy class. I was invited by my friend and colleague, Dr. Raul Pacheco-Vega. The entire experience was fabulous. The students were engaged and asked all sorts of questions, and offered provocative points. On the ferry ride home, I was thinking about the trip and had to remind myself about the power that professors have when they walk into the classroom. Some students will be very careful about what they say, since they don’t want to be judged by the professor.

It’s amazing to me that students asking me what I thought about “Lipstick” feminists and other topics germane or tangentially related to my talk made me have this epiphany. I’ve had this moment before, but I must say it’s great to be reminded. I think it’s humbling and makes me as a professor walk back into the classroom with more compassion and patience. It’s good for my feminist politics.

I do think that those of us teaching material connected to social justice issues face this more. Students want to appear like a good social justice activist. I assume that students who self-select to take a class with gender or feminist in the title are probably already progressive leaning. But, this reminder this week was instructive. I walked back into my classroom and we chatted about this.

I explained that there is a big tent for feminists and we had a good conversation about feminists and people (women and men) who advocate feminism. I am hopeful that my students got that feminism is more than button wearing, but can also include having so-called guilty pleasure watching TV. Feminists and feminist advocates are human, too!

I know that my feminist politics are fluid and have evolved over the last twenty years and I’m glad to interact with students who are hard-core feminists, dabbling in feminism, or social justice activists. I hope that the class materials and discussions informs their politics and offers them some ground for more critical thinking. I joked with my students and noted that I don’t judge their feminism or their politics, but instead evaluate their critical thinking skills and their writing with the assignments. I hope that they understand this. I would prefer that they be honest in class and not worry about what I think or if I’m judging them. In the meantime, though, I will try to keep the learning environment safe for them to want to talk, to want to interject their assessment of readings or respond to me or another’s comment. Bring it on.

Being a Feminist Mother: Part I

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When I was a new mama, I kept a journal that I named the “Bad Mama Chronicles” (BMC). I wrote entries when I was exhausted and somehow felt that I had failed my daughter that day. I am sure that I could have continued the BMC and the entries would have changed during the course of my daughter getting older and then the arrival of her little sister. Parents know how hard it is to parent, to mother, in my case.

Being a feminist mother has meant different things to me at different times in my girls’ development. So, for time and space, I will refer to what I think today. Being a feminist mother means that I encourage my girls and discourage the influences of pop culture and advertisements in their lives, so that they do not think that they are not smart enough, perfect, thin enough, need the next toy, food, or gimmick to fulfill them. This is a full-time job! I also need to bite my tongue and listen. It was easy in the beginning to be in charge of buying their clothes and dressing them, when they were little girls. Now, both of them have their own distinct tastes and thankfully both of them are sporty, although the youngest like the occasional frilly item.

However, now they both have wider social circles and there are more people influencing their lives. Funny anecdote: a teacher was reviewing the eldest daughters quiz answer and one of her answers to why we should respect a particular woman scientist. She explained that this scientists refused to stay with her philandering husband. The teacher had marked this answer as wrong! Yet, this personal trait also spoke to this scientist’s personal strength of character. I smiled and listened to the teacher and just listened to him. I don’t want to make waves for my daughter and could understand part of his argument; however, I think that her answer was correct–just not what he was expecting.

The best thing that I can do as a parent is set a positive example for the girls. The adage is that actions speak louder than words and it is so true. Some days I think about how I have had a really great day with the girls and other days–not so much. Parenting is a marathon.

This Summer was a great one. My eldest had that epiphany when she realized in a deeper way what it means to be Latina. We were surrounded by my family and when we were alone–we had some conversations about race and I could see her mind working. Later we took a trip to Olvera St. (first puebla in Southern California) and this trip was different from the previous ones. She took in the history. All those years of Spanish CDs and a trip to a Latino historical site made all the difference. Again, actions can speak louder than words.

There are more posts to come about being a feminist mother. This is just the beginning.

Being a Feminist

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This is the first post in a series where I will ruminate on what it means to me to be a feminist. First things first, I have no problem self-identifying as a feminist. Just as some of my colleagues live by their Marxist or Socialist tendencies, I live by my feminist beliefs. I advocate feminism and I am an advocate of feminism, but I do not shirk the label.

Secondly, I am a strong believer of the fact that there are different types of feminisms. There is not a monolithic feminism or feminist club that I have to earn a card to be a member of and act and speak a certain way in order to keep my membership. Feminism is not Costco. Feminisms provides a philosophy of life, love, education, politics and so much more. My feminist politics includes an understanding of the importance of intersectionaliy. My feminism includes an understanding that politics and life are influenced by race, class, education, sexuality and many other indicators.

To be honest, I find it quite amusing when a student or other person outside of academe accuses me of having feminist politics. The student might as well accuse me of breathing and thinking. We are all guided by a philosophy of sorts–mine just happens to be feminism. And, some many decades later this term seems to scare, enrage or confuse people. I recall being in grad school and a professor asking me if I was a Chicana or Feminist first. I felt the question was a ridiculous question. Shall you take my right arm off or my left? My identification of my ethnic background is inextricably connected to my feminism.

Feminism informs the way I read pop culture, articles, people’s actions and I will not apologize for thinking. If my feminism intimidates you–you need to think about why is this the case? Do you understand feminism? Do you want to? Years ago I recall telling a friend that I was going to be a cultural critic when I grew up. I don’t think either of us understood this, but when she later told me that her mother thought that was a terrible idea, I knew I was on to something. I tell my students that my vocation is thinking, reading, writing, and more thinking. This thinking is informed by feminism.

The typology of feminism that best explains my own would be Women of Color feminisms circa This Bridge Called My Back  added with Third Wave feminisms. I was lucky enough to earn a BA in Women’s Studies (Go Aztecs! ) at SDSU, so most of my mentors were of the Second Wave persuasion. I feel well versed in different types of feminisms.

How does this feminism inform my daily life? Well, that is for a different post or two. One about my teaching, and another about relationships (parenting and love).