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I wrote a thing for International Women’s Day 2020, and that’s quite enough for today.

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“Ooh! I’m looking forward to reading your International Women’s Day post.”

That’s what someone said to me this week. My second reaction was a little internal *beam* that this human likes my writing, has been reading my blog long enough to know that I write about feminism and gender politics, and genuinely associates IWD with my thoughts and musings. That was my second reaction. I wish it had been my first.

My first reaction was a whole body deflation. A ‘oh my goodness I haven’t even considered IWD, or writing anything about it, or even being aware of it being March already, or eating food that doesn’t come out of a foil packet, or showering on a semi-regular basis, or, or, or…’

Readers, it’s been one of those days, weeks, months, 2020’s. Everyone I have spoken to since January has had bad news to tell me. It’s exhausting and it’s depressing and then I look out the window and oh yes, it’s raining again.

“By the age of 15, women are twice as likely to suffer from depression as men.” This is a quote by Dr Ruta Nonacs, an expert in mental illness. In her book, she talks about how as kids, boys and girls are about equal when it comes to depression markers, and somewhere around puberty the scales shift. She also says that the greatest time of vulnerability is during a woman’s childbearing years.

“From a psychological standpoint, this is a time when she is faced with many life-changing and potentially stressful transforming events; her education, career, marriage, childbearing, and child rearing. These changes provide the emotional context within which depression may take hold. [on top of this, consider] the demands women face as they occupy multiple — and often conflicting — roles within the family, in the community, and at work.” 

I don’t know whether the gender disparity is because women talk about their emotions more than men, and are more comfortable asking for help, and putting that data on the record.

I don’t know whether it’s biological, the result of different hormones and different levels of those hormones than men.

I don’t know whether it’s societal, that the extreme pressure put on women to ‘have it all’ and to kill it, both at work and at home, is killing nothing other than their spirits.

But, GUYS. THAT DOCTOR LADY SAYS ITS MEANT TO BE WELL HARD RIGHT NOW.

A lot of the articles you read on this International Women’s Day will talk about amazing women and their achievements. They will say how much we can do if roadblocks are taken out of our paths, how without the glass ceiling our progress is unstoppable. That’s all true. But I’m not going to talk about those truths. I’m going to try another, just as true thought.

Equality shouldn’t have to prove anything to will itself into existence. We don’t have to be making waves all the time, or nailing it both in the office and at home, or even one or the other, to be afforded the same rights as men.

The right to find it tough and give ourselves a break. The right to voice that we can’t do it all. The right to fall down and not to get up again right away just to make a lasagne, design a PowerPoint presentation, practice some times tables with a 9 year old, and send off a quick email to the boss, all while trying to keep the surfaces clean enough to stave off a raging Coronavirus epidemic in your household.

So, this International Women’s Day, I’ve stopped. I’ve taken a moment for myself, to write about how tiring life is right now. How I’ve had lovely things happen lately, but they’ve still come with their challenges. How I’m doing the best I can as a parent, but my kids haven’t had the best of me recently. How part of me is truly grateful and excited to be thriving and busy at work, but a (right now, slightly bigger) part of me would really just like to take more naps and watch more Netflix.

We’ve spent a long time fighting for the right to do more, to take on what men often take for granted. Let’s not forget that’s not what equality hinges on, and that we also need to fight for the flip side of what men often take for granted – the right to do less. Women, our mental health depends on it.

Sceptical about the Erasure of Women in Charedi Society? It Can’t be Ignored Any Longer.

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As Jews, we believe that we are continuing important traditions that have been paved for us by our ancestors over thousands of years of history. In many cases, we’re right. However, in some cases, new trends and behaviours emerge, that if unchecked, can quickly and easily slip into the norm. In some cases, like with a style of dress or a turn of phrase, this is harmless. In other cases, not so much.

Increasingly, Jewish publications and organizations are removing women from the picture, quite literally. This is done by creating policies where ladies are not allowed to be included in photographs, by censoring the language we use around female issues, and by redacting places where we would normally find women a’plenty.

You might have noticed this trend, and have your fingers crossed that it’s just a phase, or it isn’t going to happen in your backyard. You might have heard talk about this issue, and have shrugged your shoulders, putting it down to extreme levels of modesty, or thinking that it’s not as big a deal as people are making out. Think again.

Refusing to Print Photos of Women

Some ultra-orthodox publications have policies in place where they will not publish photographs of women. It doesn’t matter how modestly they are dressed, it doesn’t matter how old they are, it’s a blanket rule against all women being photographed for publication. Extreme examples I’ve seen in practice include a London-based newspaper photoshopping out a cardboard cut-out in the background of an all-male line-up to celebrate the opening of a new retail store. Who was the woman in the cut -out, you ask? Mrs Butterworth, everyone’s favourite maple syrup pancake mascot.

You can laugh at these examples, we all do. You can even roll your eyes and say, ‘who cares, just don’t read those magazines’ but this trend has a damaging effect on the whole community. When women are taken out of these publications, and the very image of a woman is somehow seen as harmful to the spirituality of the reader, we’re creating a reality where we’re are not seeing women as part of the community at all, ever.

The photo below shows a family home, a mantlepiece full of joyous family photos that show the lifecycle of a family. The presentation of a child’s first chumash, graduation, a new child… all of these events, and yet not a female face to be seen.

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This example shows an engagement announcement in a Jewish newspaper in America. Instead of the bride and groom happily smiling out at the readers, the publication chooses to print a photo of the groom and his future father in law, as if there is something inherently wrong with seeing an engaged couple.

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How can we expect our children to be healthy around relationships and marriage, if the very idea of seeing a man and a woman printed next to one another is treated as something immoral or wrong?

Removing any Female Content Whatsoever

For anyone who still feels like the erasure of women in publications is coming from a good (if extreme) place, the following example should have you convinced that we’re talking about a lot more than simple modesty. The photos below show the same advert in two separate magazines, one which felt the need to remove the Playmobil toy character of the woman from the Shabbat table. Would the women be removed from the game itself if it ended up in the homes of the readership? We’re building a reality where boys and girls are not seeing women as an essential and valued part of the home, or even a part of their lives.

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Creating Indecency Around Women’s Health

Let’s look at the darker side of this trend, the way that women are spoken to in these magazines and newspapers, not just the way that they are portrayed, or more accurately not portrayed. Here, you can see an advert that is supposed to be alerting women to the importance of checking their breasts for cancer. Unfortunately, many people would never be able to decipher that message from the advert itself.

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Women are not lettuce leaves. There is nothing immodest about using the words breast cancer, discussing the warning signs, or speaking openly with girls and women about the health risks that they need to be aware of. And yet, this is unfortunately not a one off event. Some publications won’t use the word breast, so describe breast cancer as “the cancer which pertains to women” despite that being medically inaccurate. If the media refuses to have these conversations, or even use the right language, what will happen if young women aren’t being provided with the right education at home?

Sexualizing Girls in the Name of Modesty

The erasure of women is both harmful and offensive, but the erasure of young girls is far more sinister. What are we saying to children when we refuse to include their photos in magazines, or blur out their faces as soon as they age past toddlerhood? We’re saying that a 3 year old girl cannot be sexual, but a 5 year old can be. We’re telling them that men will be looking at their faces in a lustful way, so it’s better to not include them, or to leave their bodies intact but make sure their faces cannot be recognized. That men will come to sin by their very images, or that there is something wrong with them being seen.

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Can you think of one legitimate reason why these photos don’t contain girls faces? This is nothing short of rape culture. It’s victim-blaming before these children can even understand what that means. It’s creating a community where adults are told it’s okay to be turned on by children, and that it’s the girls’ responsibility to make sure you never see their faces, and are never brought towards temptation.

Coming up in the Rear-view Mirror

There is a well-known idea that life imitates art, that we see trends in the media, in film and television, in music and culture before we see them around us. The erasure of women in extreme fringes of Judaism is becoming more mainstream. This isn’t a problem that is confined to the far reaches of ultra-orthodoxy anymore. It’s in the papers that your modern orthodox neighbors are reading and talking about, it’s in the cross-communal synagogue newsletters that come through your door, and in the local Jewish youth center that is trying to be open to everyone.

These ideas and actions aren’t something to be ‘open’ to. Not when they are causing harm to every person in the Jewish community, both emotionally and physically.

One organization is fighting against these issues head on. In its own words, “Chochmat Nashim works towards a healthier Jewish society by raising awareness of damaging trends and policies and presenting possible alternatives. Because Judaism is better when women are heard.” From the chained wife whose husband refuses to give her a get, to the woman with cancer who has never even heard of the disease, Chochmat Nashim is fighting to make a change.

This week, Chochmat Nashim are raising funds for their important work with a crowdfunding campaign, 2 days for people to give as generously as possible. Get involved why don’t you? The time for excuses and crossed fingers are over.

Solidarity

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Womanly means different things, to everyone who’s using it,
There really isn’t a description that would be abusing it.
So if you find your womanhood, in football or karate,
Know that you’re as female, as the hostess of the party.
If you want to be a mother, and put kids in every room,
That’s great, but you’re no less, because you have less in your womb.

Feminine is not defined by the make up that you wear,
It isn’t formed from nail length, or the style of your hair
Female can’t be spotted by the hours that you work,
It doesn’t disappear because you run or shout or twerk.
No one takes the name away because you love your single life,
And no one’s less a woman when they choose to be a wife.

You can’t find ‘female’ in rosy cheeks, or soft or golden hair,
Theres no one way a ‘lady’ should sit down on a chair,
It doesn’t make you masculine to raise your voice and speak,
It doesn’t make you feminine when someone calls you meek,
There’s no such thing as ‘womanly curves’, the ‘real woman’ is a lie.
We’re all as real as each other, in the race to ‘female’? It’s a tie.

This International Woman’s Day, lets celebrate what makes us strong,
That united in our quest for more, we’ve all been female all along.

What Women Want

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Since 1913, March 8th has been the date of International Women’s Day, and the day itself has existed for a few years before that. It’s aim has always been equality for women, historically with voting rights, and continuously for equality in the workplace – including closing that darn gender gap which seems so difficult to keep shut. (FYI- Currently at 14% in the UK, and around 18% in the US.)

And luckily, we live in a time where no one believes in enforcing inequality or sexism at work anymore. Don’t believe me? Just go ask anyone in your office. Should women have the same rights, pay, and opportunities as men do? “Of course!” they’ll say. “What a crazy question!” they’ll laugh nervously. “I have a wife!” they might add, as if that somehow distances them from sexism in any way whatsoever.

So these examples which I’m about to give you, of the 100% real-life gifts which companies decided to hand out for this years International Women’s Day, should absolutely not be seen as sexist. They can’t possibly be. The men are just trying to be nice, stop getting so hysterical about it, are you on your period?

But just for funsies, let’s have a think about the alternatives which companies could have chosen, if they had thought about it a little more deeply, or perhaps chosen to invite a woman or two to the meeting where these IWD celebrations were decided on.

Nail Varnish

Happy International Women’s Day! We thought we would spoil you this year with something just for you… make up! Take twenty minutes later on in the day, maybe after you’re done with your chores, and paint those nails, girls. We’ve got both pink and red, so you can decide if you want to be soft and approachable, or sexy and vampish.

Next Year

“As the life course of women often involves economic inactivity, part-time work, unpaid work, lower wages and an average of five years’ shorter working life than men, they face a significant risk of poverty in old age. In the EU, 18% of women and 12% of men aged 75-plus are at risk of monetary poverty.”

How about we take a look at the old age provision for women? Maybe companies could offer extra incentives towards their pension funds, or provide better semi-retirement options for women in their sixties?

Baking Tins

Oh, maybe I’m being a bit harsh with this one. After all, baking is a fun activity which anyone can take part in. And hey, the company in question did buy tins for the men as well as the women. Oh wait, what’s that on the men’s ones? It’s a card which says “For the woman in your life”. Because imagine if a man tried to do all that stirring and measuring, gosh they would just end up using the tin as a football or something. Someone better tell the 81.5% of professional chefs who are men that they’re in the wrong career.

Next Year

According to a RandstadUSA study, “58 percent of women said the lack of a clear path to leadership roles was one of the key factors that contributes to gender inequality in the workplace. And while mentorship and leadership programs are known to be crucial to one’s career success, just 23 percent of women said they are offered these resources by their current employer.”

This one seems pretty simple. Start a mentor program for women, and establish leadership paths which work to combat macho gender stereotypes of leaders. The Sandberg #MentorHer campaign is a great place to start.

Pink Popcorn

See what they did there? Usually, the snacks at the weekly meeting aren’t dyed any colour at all. We just keep them their usual colours! It’s crazy that women understand which ones to eat at all. If I had a penny for every time a woman has tried to eat the whiteboard eraser instead of the chocolate cake. Seeing as it’s Women’s Day, we’ve tracked down woman popcorn! Hopefully by next year we’ll have those lady Doritos everyone’s looking forward to so much.

Next Year

In the EU, women account for only 7% of board chairs and presidents and 6% of chief executives in the largest companies. More people called David and Steve lead FTSE 500 companies than women and ethnic minorities put together. And yet, studies show that having more women in senior management improves the financial security of companies and makes them manage risk better.

Corporate leaders need to show that they are investing in change. Talks and workshops by successful women are one great way to show female employees that you want to empower them for career success, but actions speak louder than words. If you aren’t satisfied with the idea that the gender disparity in wages looks set to continue until 2059, follow the example of Salesforce CEO Marc Beinoff who spent $3 million last year to fix the pay gap in his company.

A Magnet… Of a woman shopping… With the word ‘Stunning’ on it.

What’s great about this IWD gift is that it can go on the fridge. In the kitchen. Where women live. And it’s got a picture of a woman shopping on it. Which is the only other place women go! Lots of thought was put in here, to ensure that it really ticks all the boxes. Plus it’s got a compliment on it, so the women know we haven’t failed to notice they have great legs in those uncomfortable shoes we like them to wear.

Next Year

A huge roadblock which stops the advancement of gender equality is that women are still seen as the ‘natural’ choice for childrearing duties and other caregiving responsibilities. “Almost every second working woman spends an hour or more caring and educating children or grandchildren, elderly or disabled people during the day, compared with only about a third of working men.”

Using all the time you save not buying sexist magnets, take a look at the parental leave you offer, and consider offering fathers more paid time off for emergency family care and paternity leave. How are your flexible working opportunities, and do they allow for women to balance having kids with advancing in their careers?

 

It’s not rocket science, and seeing as we’ve been asking for more than 100 years now, it would be great if we didn’t have to keep highlighting this disparity, as well as convincing the world that it exists in the first place.

If you work at a company who gave a tone-deaf International Women’s Day gift this year, say something to HR. If you were in on the meeting where the company decided to buy all the women some pretty flowers and a themed cupcake, own up to it, and do better next year. If you work in a position of authority in your office, take steps to make these statistics better for 2019. And if on top of motivation and policy change, you still want to give out gifts? Lovely! Just don’t dye them pink.

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Don’t you think we’ve done enough? 

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I know. It’s just two words. Two short words which could lift the veil, start the conversation, make people sit up and take notice of how very real this problem is. ‘Wow, I never realised that this affected so many women before.’ ‘Gosh, that neighbour, that colleague, that family member…’ ‘Really? I never would have guessed.’ ‘She’s so confident.’ ‘She’s so strong.’

That’s probably your best case scenario here. That no one ever knew the secret weight you were carrying around with you all of this time.The revulsion you felt when that man started licking his lips on public transport, and you followed his hands as they moved under his jacket, so strategically placed on his lap as he refused to break eye contact with you. That fear you felt as you turned your car key in your pocket as you crossed the street and walked a little faster, wondering what kind of weapon it could make if push came to shove. The confusion you felt when after years of kind words from your partner, push did come to shove in a frightening reality of strength and power, no matter how apologetic the tears were later.

Because of course, if some people’s “Me too” comes as a shock, it stands to reason that other people’s comes as ‘No great surprise.’ ‘I always thought there were something, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.’ ‘Right, that actually makes a lot of sense.’ And now, laid bare for all your friends, acquaintances, colleagues, and friends of your parents to see, is just two little words which prove that you’re Other. So while you might be brave enough (or confident enough, or social media friendly enough, or naive enough, or drunk enough, or just plain hopeful enough) to post those little words, there’s almost a certain guarantee that many others wont be. And that’s fine, too. Except, now it dilutes the point. They say if everyone who has experienced it posts about it, then we will see the problem! It’s foolproof! It’s genius! Except, everyone won’t. So the very initiative hurts what it hopes to achieve. ‘I hardly saw anyone post that ‘me too’ thing. I knew it wasn’t such a big deal.’ And on the other side of it, the woman herself, ‘Maybe I should have posted that ‘me too’ thing.’ ‘I feel guilty, why are they all so much braver than me?’ ‘My experience isn’t that big a deal, not really, not in comparison.’

Because the problem isn’t that people don’t know about it. The problem isn’t even that we don’t talk about it enough. Unsurprisingly, like any situation of victim blaming, the problem isn’t ours at all. The problem is that WOMEN AREN’T BELIEVED. When dozens of women can finally stand up against one dangerous Hollywood executive and the response is raised eyebrows alongside words like consensual, career ladder, power mad, honey trap thrown around at the victims, what makes you think that those who don’t believe us suddenly have respect for numbers? If anything, it’s the opposite. ‘Omg, this ‘me too’ thing is getting out of control. Every woman who has ever been asked to make a cup of tea in the office is changing their status.’ ‘Y’know, my sister put it on hers, I nearly laughed out loud-have you seen how she dresses lately?’ 

And where it does work? We’re relying on these women, these brave, or hopeful, or drunk, but certainly strong women, to speak up and put themselves in the line of fire and scrutiny once again. We’re putting the work into the hands of the victims, the survivors, the very people who we are hoping to protect. And allowing the perpetrators and the bystanders to simply watch and judge, to believe or not believe, like we always have done.

I make my living with words. I love them, and I recognise the power of them, and the very real way that language can create reality. But I don’t believe an onslaught of ‘me too’ is the answer to changing the way we deal with sexual harassment and abuse. The onslaught we’re waiting for is from the other side, and it reads “I believe.”

My View from Behind the Curtain

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There’s a lot been written lately about feminism and Judaism, or at least-about women’s roles in our faith. While I wouldn’t say personally that I feel invisible behind the mechitza, I do struggle with women who are blocked from getting the most out of their orthodoxy, especially where it feels like it comes down to custom or tradition rather than Jewish law.

Losing a parent is the hardest thing I’ve ever gone through. I don’t grapple with it daily, but it has the power to move me to tears with literally no notice whatsoever, at any given moment. It’s scarred me and shaped me in ways I probably couldn’t describe, and some ways I can.

Judaism has guidelines for losing a parent. And to me, it’s one of the most beautiful areas of Jewish law. From the second a parent dies, their family has rules to follow. Don’t leave the body alone, call the chevra kadisha, say the shema prayer.. the list of laws and customs goes on, from those first impossible minutes until years later, when we light a memorial candle on the anniversary of their death. And the intensity of those rules lessens as time goes on.

The first week, your every waking minute is filled with people visiting you sit shiva, while for the month, the restrictions of new clothes and luxury are enough to keep you aware of your loss but also able to forget for small periods of time, get on with work and friendships and daily life. The entire year, you exclude yourself from social gatherings where you might not feel comfortable, but your life begins to move on, often without daily reminders of your status as an avel. To me, it felt like God was walking me through the process of grieving, not letting me sweep my feelings under the carpet, but also helping me put myself back together without drowning under the weight of it.

But there were moments. Moments where I still feel like my grief would have more bearing, more status somehow, if I were a man.

Standing by the graveside at my fathers funeral, they asked the men to step forward to take part in an incredible mark of respect, to help fill the grave with earth. My family, my friends, people who knew us all my life came close to take a spade and begin the labour. When I asked to join in, eager to honour my father this last time, I was asked to wait while a groundskeeper ran to fetch something. When he came back, he brought with him a small trowel and some ready turned earth in a bucket. They offered me a token, a ceremonial act, like the action of lifting a shovel was going to be too much for me. Like they couldn’t see that the act of not lifting it would be far heavier to carry. Needless to say, I took the spade. But I don’t know that other women would know to insist.

During the week of shiva, men need a minyan, ten men to join them in prayer, three times a day. It means that your home is filled with people, pretty much all of your waking hours. We take breaks, for meals or for rest times, but the company is necessary. It surrounds you with stories of your loved ones, with people who care about you. It’s healing. As the only person sitting shiva, I didn’t need a minyan, so we didn’t always have one. The mornings, I slept in until visitors arrived to see me, and in the evenings, I had to leave the room while the men prayed, standing in the kitchen or the hallway, wondering why I felt shut out, if the reason they were there was me. I chose to say the Kaddish prayer that week, and they chose men to say it with me, to make it more “appropriate”, some of whom I had never met before, turning around at the sound of a woman’s voice standing out from the crowd

I didn’t have to say Kaddish at all that year, and so I didn’t. I asked someone I love, someone who loves me to say it for me, and they did. They went to shul every day, three times a day, and did the action of a grieving child for me. They said my words, my prayer, because even if I had chosen to go, orthodox Jewish law dictates it would be better if a man was doing it too. Some would say that a man needs to be doing it too. That even if I take the nineteen years we had together and pour all of those feelings into every word I say, they don’t really count.

Each year now, on the anniversary of his death, the yartzeit, I head to shul and I say the Kaddish prayer, quietly, respectfully behind the mechitza. If the other men notice a man who has yartzeit, they might offer him a special mitzvah, leading the service or holding the Torah.

Me? Me, they don’t notice at all, and they wouldn’t have anything to offer me even if they did.

Don’t get me wrong, I understand the logic and the reasoning behind the laws for women and men. The way it would be impossible to get to shul three times a day with small children in tow, the way we believe that a woman’s spirituality lends itself to needing less outward signs of our faith, the rules of modesty and how they manifest in clothes and song and power struggles. Some of these things I agree with, others less so. But I believe in the package of orthodoxy, and I feel like I matter and have a role to play. But when it comes to grief, I suddenly get a glimpse into how other women might feel, not just in mourning but in prayer, in community, in education. Like their voice is being silenced, like they have nowhere to stand, like they don’t count.

All I know, is that my father meant to the world to me, and I to him. But in a million small ways, Judaism tells me that I’m not quite enough to honour him all on my own. I need a mans help to do that to its full potential. A brother, a husband, an uncle, hey- any relative will do. So long as they’re male.

It’s one small area of Jewish law, and you don’t even consider it until it’s thrust upon you. I hardly think about it any more, just once a year, when I stand behind that curtain. Not invisible, but not quite visible enough either.

Today I Do…

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Facebook reminded me this evening of the post I wrote last year, on International Women’s day 2016. It was called One Day I Will… and it was about how I look to my daughter when I can’t find the strength in the usual role models many women have.

Michael J Fox has said that Family is not an important thing, it is everything. This year, it often feels like the whole structure of my family as I once knew it has been ripped apart at the seams. And so if family is everything, it’s easy to slip into feeling like I have nothing.

I have seen so many brave and interesting posts today from friends and strangers alike about International Women’s Day. The worst of them were questioning the need for the day in the first place, as if they were somehow put out by it’s very existence, and couldn’t just get on with their Wednesdays. The best of them were supportive, proud, strong, and full of support. And it got me thinking. Aren’t those the very best descriptions of family you could imagine?

Unfortunately and painfully, this year, one woman in my life has turned against me for standing by another. The former is blood, and the latter is one of the strongest, most supportive women I could wish to have in my world, and is every part the family I would choose, and have chosen.

I agree with Michael J Fox. Family is everything. But just as so many incredible women have shown me, it isn’t just the family you’re born with. I have a family with whom I share no kin whatsoever, made up of playdates and favours, of shouting each other coffees and coming round with surprise gifts just because. It’s packed to the brim with jumping on a plane, or listening to each other cry, it’s laughing so hard you can’t breathe, it’s sending memes at all hours of the day and night. It’s made up of love.

A working mother’s Facebook group that I’m on has a tradition called ‘bragging Wednesdays.’ The entire point is that women can share their achievements, and be encouraged and applauded by other women. They range from starting your own business or making multi-million dollar deals, to getting the kids to school on time, or carving out some space for yourself in the busy never ending to do list of life. It’s supportive, it’s lovely, and it’s powerful.

There will always be negativity, and trolls, and people who think that you’re doing the wrong thing, failing to see just how much anxiety we all have about our decisions already, without their input.

Me? I surround myself with the family I choose, the ones who have proven themselves deserving of that word. You brilliant amazing women you, you all know who you are. Happy International Women’s Day, and I love you.

 

 

A Delicate Little Flower

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You’re right.

She’s not a “delicate little flower”

And I don’t want her to be.
I don’t want her swaying in the breeze,
Moving this way and that on the flight of fancy of the wind.
I want her growing strong roots
Deep beneath the surface
Twisting their way into the earth,
Creating foundations, holding her own ground.
I don’t want her petals easily picked off one by one
By a boy playing “she loves me, loves me not”.
I want her to love herself, fiercely
Hold those petals fast in her grip
So that no-one can take hold
And make her less of herself
Unless giving freely is what she chooses.
I don’t wish for her to be simply beautiful,
(Which so often means beautifully simple)
I wan’t people to stop still in their tracks
Look at her unique colours, stop to take in her scent
Wonder what exotic place she comes from
That she was able to grow so wild and free.
I don’t imagine her little at all.
I want her to fill a room, until it overflows with her,
Not ladylike, but powerful
Not delicate, but extraordinary.
I can’t picture her on a manicured lawn
Under a cloche
Protected from the elements, not her.
I see her at all ages, in my mind’s eye.
Raging against the heat of the sun
Dancing in the rain
Moving with the wind
Laughing at the storm she creates around her
And I smile, and smile and smile.
Not a delicate little flower at all.
A powerful, strong-willed woman in the making.

“Well Done! Mister Suffragettes.”

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This week saw millions of women and men marching and protesting for womens’ rights, and boy, did the men have something to say about it. From the accurate yet stupid “There are women far worse off than you, why are you complaining?” to the always clever yet innacurate “Calm down, nothing ever got solved by being angry”. In 2017, there’s no shortage of men who not only understand the issues at hand well enough to have their own opinion,  but also who can let us feeble-minded ladies know what we should be doing, thinking and feeling as well.

I’m so happy to have so many strong men who marched alongside women this week, and don’t get me wrong, I certainly believe men should be able to voice their own opinions and thoughts on sexism loud and clear, even on the issues which mainly concern women. But when these opinions turn into simply telling a woman how to feel or react, or begin to take ownership away from women on their own issues, we’re in different territory.

Don’t tell me that you’ve never seen gender inequality at the office so therefore it “can’t exist”, ask the women who work with you if they have experienced it instead. Don’t scoff at how ‘tampon tax’ isn’t a big deal when you’ve never had to include them in your monthly budget. Don’t inform me it’s a compliment to be catcalled or groped as I walk down the street; ask me, and I’ll tell you it’s harassment. And don’t explain “the real reasons” why feminism exists, to women who have to deal with inequality every single day.

Here are some of my personal favourite male responses to the march this week. And if you think these are just individuals, take a look at some of the likes, retweets and shares that these men are recieving for their most excellent examples of mansplaining and misogyny.

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This guy is a delight. It took me a minute to realise he means people who are pro-choice.

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Y’know how to make America great again? Domestic violence.

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Always good to hear what a white man thinks about racial and gender discrimination. After all, he has all the experience and knowledge on the matter.

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May I make a suggestion…? Bathe.

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Unlike Muslim countries, US women have nothing to complain about. Certainly not a little thing like a 22.4% gender pay gap which is actually widening year on year. (Up from 20.8% in 2016) Oh wait, we chose that. Must be the comfy lifestyles we’re all enjoying as part of ‘having it all’.

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Oh, but Oliver isn’t done. It’s our sexual frustration which is making it difficult for us to get paid and respected equally. Personal thanks to all the ‘good guys’ who touch us without our permission so we know you like us, call out obscenities on the street to help us feel sexy and tell us to stop being hysterical when we’re getting too upset. With your help maybe we can nip this damn feminism in the bud.

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This last photo is CNN, discussing the womens’ march. Can you see anything wrong with this photo? Imagine for a second this was a forum on the Holocaust, and they invited 9 Germans and a token Jew. Yes, the panel rotated throughout the night, but included in the male commentary was David Swerdlick’s comment “You got the sense that a more experienced generation was passing on a tradition of activism to a younger generation.”

Yes. A more experienced generation who are still fighting for equal rights. A more experienced generation who have seen some progress but not enough. A generation who watched their own parents fight for access to better birth control, more equal working conditions, safe sexual rights, a fair justice system for both genders. And yet somehow… still need to pass on all of these battles to their own children.  What a truly sad and inadequate inheritance.

Or maybe I’m wrong, I’ll have to wait for a guy to tell me how I really feel about it.

“What’s worse than a Male Chauvinist Pig?”

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” …A woman that won’t do what she’s told.” 

That’s an actual joke someone told me, before laughing raucously, in answer to my question “Would you call yourself a feminist?”

Until recently, I’ve never thought much of feminism. Not in a disparaging way, I mean it literally hasn’t crossed my mind that much. I suppose I’ve never noticed that much sexism taking place around me. I like to think that if I had been alive a hundred years ago, I would have been one of the women throwing myself under horses for the rights of women, but in all honesty I’d probably have been obliviously popping out babies chained to the kitchen sink like the majority of that generation.

We can vote, we can work, we have birth control at our fingertips, we can be presidents and prime ministers. (ettes?!) We pretty much have it all. Truthfully, I’ve always sighed at women’s lib organisations like Femen, and asked, what more do we want?

After all, Feminism in its original meaning doesn’t exist any more, does it? We’re not campaigning to be allowed a say in politics, or for control over our own bodies. In the western world at least, life is pretty good for women. We can have our babies and return to work. We can choose not to, and that’s fine too. We can have sex, and we can even enjoy it. Of course there is working woman’s guilt, mummy guilt, stay at home guilt, basically vagina guilt, but if we were really honest we would accept that it’s mainly self judgement, and that the rest of the world doesn’t care. Real issues still exist, the gender pay gap being a massive one, but for the most part we are doing pretty well for a gender who couldn’t even go to university when our grandparents were kids.

So if I’m happy enough to let other women deal with what’s left of inequality in the western world nowadays, what’s brought feminism to my attention lately?

Caitlin Moran (in her fabulous biography how to be a woman which you must all go out and read) discusses the kind of sexism that you don’t notice right away. You might leave a situation thinking, wow-they were a massive douche, and then it actually takes another few hours to sit bolt upright and realise that you missed the word sexist out of that description.

And since that written revelation, I’ve been absolutely bombarded by my own memory, to the point where I can’t believe quite how rife my life has been with hidden sexism. And that’s what I believe we should be fighting against.

Last month, I had the displeasure of spending a few hours in enforced company with an extreme male chauvinist. The kind you can’t help but notice. He had a mini fit when his son picked up a pink buggy to play with, complete with a baby doll inside. “Sorry” I just barely bit back from saying, “I didn’t realise you want your son to grow into the type of man who won’t care for his children or help his wife.” Later that afternoon, midway through an intellectual discussion between him and two other men, I joined the debate. After his look of shock dissipated, he continued talking, making sure to explain every word over two syllables with a condescending look in my direction and an apologetic head tilt for his superior knowledge. When I correctly answered the problem he had posed, he shook his head and basically told me I’d made a lucky guess.

I went home livid. How has he got to mid thirties without someone telling him he has a huge problem? And how can his wife let him behave that way without saying something?

Attitude. That’s what the war should be waged on. The next time someone is rude to you, stop and check the conversation. Is it rudeness, or sexism? More and more I can see that what at first glance was brushed off as ‘they’re an idiot” has a horrible undercurrent of latent sexism that maybe even the speaker isn’t aware of. Sentences like “what does your husband do?” before you’ve even asked about my own work, are not just rude, they are horribly sexist. And they paint a reality. A reality where the female intern gets the coffee while the male one assists the director of the company. A world where you plan an important speech for a meeting and two men stand up to leave before you’ve finished the first sentence. A world where it’s assumed you wont want to join everyone for lunch, so you’re left alone to answer the phones.

All of the above have happened to me in the last five years, and honestly, none of them are serious enough as stand alone events to even mention, without dealing with another sexist label, “the hormonal hysterical woman.” But put them all together and you have a quite frightening picture of a woman’s worth.

It’s easy enough to solve. And bear with me here because this is quite radical. Everyone has to see women…. as people.

That’s right. The same as any other person, male or otherwise.

It’s crazy! It’s insane! It will never work!

But taking every situation I’ve outlined above, I think it may be genius. Instead of my new favourite MCP noting that a dress and heels had joined the convo, if he had just noted that another human was now involved, the only change in conversation would have been a slight body shift to include me in the debate.

If I wasn’t immediately wife, but rather person, then obviously the first question would have been “what do you do?”

“2 interns? Flip a coin, decide between yourselves, take turns for gods sake.”

“Oh, a person is talking, I’d better wait to go powder my nose until they are finished. Perhaps I’ll even listen.”

“Ah, we’re going for lunch, every person is obviously welcome.”

I’m not for one minute downplaying the important work that feminists do for women, and I’m grateful every day for our ‘sister suffragettes’ that made my own freedom and choices possible. But the work needed nowadays is different, and I believe it is mostly down to menfolk to make the changes, although of course women can be just as guilty. To see women simply as other people who coexist side by side, separate but equal. To extend the same courtesy they would to any other person, by simply not being rude. To think about an unpleasant encounter in their day and ask themselves whether they would have made the same choices had a man been standing in front of them, or at the other end of the line.

So do me a favour, and pass on the message to the man in your life. After all, they probably will have stopped reading this by now. It’s written by a woman. 

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