Quiet Feminism
When I was a child--even when I was a teenager--I knew that both of my parents have engineering degrees. I knew that both of my parents have completed graduate degrees. I knew that my mother had a master's in engineering. And I just figured that some people's mothers have master's degrees in engineering. Basically, I didn't really think there was anything unusual about a woman getting an engineering degree in the early 1980s. Because it had never been a big deal--my mother just had a degree. Just like my dad.
Then, I was in my twenties when I realized that my mother is a freaking feminist. Women didn't just get masters degrees in engineering in the early 1980s. It wasn't a thing women did. My mother is a feminist.
Here's the other interesting part: my mother doesn't fight with people. She doesn't argue with people. In fact, she'd really rather not talk to people. Maybe, hence the engineer thing.
As such, I've learned to be a very different type of feminist than most. I was taught feminism by my shy, quiet, peace-loving mother. I think my father described her approach to feminism best, "She realized that rather than convince people she could be an engineer, she would just show them."
And so, with today's world of loud and abrasive, obnoxious and obtrusive, forceful and belligerent, bellicose and aggressive feminism that seeks more to convince rather than to demonstrate, I feel like I can't be a feminist. It's kind of funny when you think of it. I am a single woman, PhD student, run a camp for girls, and yet, I don't really feel like I fit in with the feminism crowd. I feel like it's time to stop convincing, and time to start showing.
Mary Shelley, the author of Frankenstein, wrote it as a bet actually. Her husband, Percy Bysshe Shelley, was involved in a bet with the rest of the lake poets on who could write the best horror story with the most literary merit. Mary Shelley said she wanted in. They mocked her and said, "Sure, come on in, Mary. Write your horror story. You're not going to win anyway, but why not let you play the game too." Mary Shelley could have sat and had a philosophical rant about how wrong they were. That she could write just as well as they could. And that women can write horror, too! She could have made a bunch of catty memes, and been abrasive. Instead, she just threw down Frankenstein.
Helen Taussig could have started a verbal "smack-down" on all of her medical colleagues about how she was too soft to be an effective neonatologist--her female instincts didn't allow her to distance herself from the babies and she couldn't think objectively. Instead, she used that female, maternal emotion to never give up on those babies, and started the ball rolling to open the field, not only of curing Tetralogy of Fallot, but all cardiac surgery.
I'm not saying there aren't times to speak up. If you're legit unable to vote, you're going to have to ask for that (bless you Susan B. Anthony, Lucretia Mott and Elizabeth Cady Stanton). But, there's nothing wrong with just proving those idiots wrong when they start to pull out their ridiculous "girls can't."
I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong, but I guess I don't know why I have to wear vagina hats and scream and be in people's faces in order to be a feminist. Why can't I just have a quiet power? Why can't I simply channel my inner-Marie Curie and show men what women can do. And instead of shutting down whenever a creaky-voiced, West-Coast feminist opens her mouth, maybe they will start to listen.
Then, I was in my twenties when I realized that my mother is a freaking feminist. Women didn't just get masters degrees in engineering in the early 1980s. It wasn't a thing women did. My mother is a feminist.
Here's the other interesting part: my mother doesn't fight with people. She doesn't argue with people. In fact, she'd really rather not talk to people. Maybe, hence the engineer thing.
As such, I've learned to be a very different type of feminist than most. I was taught feminism by my shy, quiet, peace-loving mother. I think my father described her approach to feminism best, "She realized that rather than convince people she could be an engineer, she would just show them."
And so, with today's world of loud and abrasive, obnoxious and obtrusive, forceful and belligerent, bellicose and aggressive feminism that seeks more to convince rather than to demonstrate, I feel like I can't be a feminist. It's kind of funny when you think of it. I am a single woman, PhD student, run a camp for girls, and yet, I don't really feel like I fit in with the feminism crowd. I feel like it's time to stop convincing, and time to start showing.
Mary Shelley, the author of Frankenstein, wrote it as a bet actually. Her husband, Percy Bysshe Shelley, was involved in a bet with the rest of the lake poets on who could write the best horror story with the most literary merit. Mary Shelley said she wanted in. They mocked her and said, "Sure, come on in, Mary. Write your horror story. You're not going to win anyway, but why not let you play the game too." Mary Shelley could have sat and had a philosophical rant about how wrong they were. That she could write just as well as they could. And that women can write horror, too! She could have made a bunch of catty memes, and been abrasive. Instead, she just threw down Frankenstein.
Helen Taussig could have started a verbal "smack-down" on all of her medical colleagues about how she was too soft to be an effective neonatologist--her female instincts didn't allow her to distance herself from the babies and she couldn't think objectively. Instead, she used that female, maternal emotion to never give up on those babies, and started the ball rolling to open the field, not only of curing Tetralogy of Fallot, but all cardiac surgery.
I'm not saying there aren't times to speak up. If you're legit unable to vote, you're going to have to ask for that (bless you Susan B. Anthony, Lucretia Mott and Elizabeth Cady Stanton). But, there's nothing wrong with just proving those idiots wrong when they start to pull out their ridiculous "girls can't."
I don't know. Maybe I'm wrong, but I guess I don't know why I have to wear vagina hats and scream and be in people's faces in order to be a feminist. Why can't I just have a quiet power? Why can't I simply channel my inner-Marie Curie and show men what women can do. And instead of shutting down whenever a creaky-voiced, West-Coast feminist opens her mouth, maybe they will start to listen.
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