Robin Morgan wrote recently about “faux feminists,” namely in the context of those who support Sarah Palin’s candidacy for vice president. While, as I have pointed out, I think a Palin vice presidency would prove detrimental for women’s status in America, particularly because of her fiercely narrow anti-choice position, to bisect women into “true” vs. “fake” feminists (sound familiar?) without any room for contingency is unworkable in a society where women are represented by a variety of identities. In this case, I think Morgan needed to make a distinction between political feminism and personal feminism.
Political feminism needs to promote policies which, at the fount, support the advancement of women from a variety of disparate backgrounds, including different ethnicities, economic situations, regional and religious experiences. It needs to fight for women in those areas of society where they experience distinct disadvantages and discrimination. But it especially needs to support female Choice, particularly in sexuality and reproduction, above and beyond all else: the Choice to marry whomever she wants and the Choice to have or not have a child contingent on her personal circumstances.
A politician who supports women’s economic and political advancement, but not their bodily sovereignty, is incapable of representing feminism on an American political stage. Palin refuses to look beyond a personal, religiously-motivated decision on her part to understand why an urban teenager with a bright college future ahead of her, or a college junior, or a woman with little economic support, or a mid-career woman for whom it’s just not the right time, or a rape victim, must have the Choice to end an unwanted pregnancy. The difference between a personal and political feminism hinges on the question of whom it affects–and while Palin’s views on abortion may be right for her, they are not right for the majority of women in this country. The personal may always be political, but the political should not always be personal.
On the other hand, despite what I would describe as a viscerally negative reaction to Palin’s candidacy, I don’t think we should delineate stringent standards for who is a “feminist.” “I am a feminist.” It’s an expression we don’t hear enough. Based on pure numbers, we should be encouraging as many women as possible to express this sentiment: “I am a feminist.” At base, it means that you are actively working for women’s advancement, independence, and equality, either in your own life or at large. Given how diverse our society is, that can take on any number of meanings.
My grandmother is a devout Catholic, anti-choice, and very pro-Palin (we’ve been studiously avoiding the topic for the past few months). At the same time, she pulled herself out of 1950s housewife-dom to go back to college at age 36 with two kids at home, became a first-time teacher at age 40, and through various family crises has shown herself to be a fiercely independent and modern woman who refused to cede ground to males in the family. Would I want her deciding American policy on women’s issues for the next four years? No way. Would I love it if she called herself a feminist and would I think it true? Absolutely. In fact, sometimes I call her a feminist and while she’ll sigh “Nooo,” you can hear pride in her voice. “Feminist” can be a very empowering term.
“Feminist” also demands context. The first-wave feminists were hardly pro-choicers, but they were extremely effective politically for their time. Radical and middle-class feminists in the second wave had radically different ideas on tactics and outcomes, but both groups were feminists in their own way. Which feminism was more effective for American women at the time is a different conversation. If we stick to a too-narrow version of “feminist” then we leave out a significant number of women who are trying to carve out how to be feminists on their own terms, in their own societies, in their own religious contexts even.
There are Jewish Orthodox feminists, who have made great strides in female education, grassroots religious practices, and tefillah (prayer) groups [You can read about it in: “Women in Orthodoxy: Conventional and Contentions” by Norma Baumel Joseph in Women Remaking American Judaism, ed. Riv-Ellen Prell, 2007: Wayne State University Press). While the headway may seem small to those who don’t adhere to Orthodox beliefs, why would we deny women who have sought to effect changes within the contexts of their religion the right to call themselves Feminist?
It’s a matter of semantics, but to prevent us from wasting time over accusatory, and sometimes riskily exclusive arguments of “Who’s a feminist? Are you a feminist? Am I a feminist? Is she? Is he?” We should take “Feminist” off the grand, binary scale and ask instead about American political feminism. Sarah Palin, through a mixture of savvy and chutzpah, has become a politically powerful woman and within her context, I can understand why she considers herself a feminist. But does she represent feminism in the same way Hillary does? Will she work effectively in political office for the betterment of the diverse body of American women? In short: hell no.
Comments
Virginia Rutter — November 3, 2008
Yes yes yes, Kristen! I don't think we can badger people with their identity as a feminist or faux feminist. I mean I don't think we should; that kind of identity politics creates a risky discourse that leads to alienation rather than dialogue. But we can badger, debate, and assess feminisms: As I said on Friday (see http://girlwpen.com/?p=1296), Palin suggests to us a kind of feminism based on traditionalism, based on reinforcing traditional norms. Is that Feminism with a capital "F"? ... not so much. And by the way, she doesn't seem to be doing too good of a job of it, but that is an issue of quality, not the label.