Category Archives: On My Mind

It’s what I’m thinking about at the moment…

What Is Your “Feminism?”

If your “feminism” replicates the prescriptivist and hidebound patterns of kyriarchy, telling women what they should and shouldn’t do, putting them into boxes based on their adherence to your behavioral dogma, then it isn’t any feminism I can recognize.

If your “feminism” appears never wavering from a tunnel-visioned perspective that cannot even acknowledge that people exist on the margins, let alone give a moment’s thought of their lives, if it inculcates divisions by suggesting that those people’s needs can be addressed later, or by someone else, or in some other framework than whatever advocacy you call yourself doing, then it isn’t any feminism I can recognize.

If your “feminism” isn’t about uniting people in a group effort to push aside oppression, and instead further balkanizes people based upon a dogma you unveil piecemeal, in order to further your own brand and gain personal recognition, then it isn’t any feminism I can recognize.

If your “feminism” isn’t about cultural critique (unto cultural demolition) or policy analysis and instead focuses on individuals’ (typically cis women of privilege unless you’re talking about — and over — poor people) behaviors rather than the hierarchies and systems which confine individuals and falsely constrains their behavior, then it isn’t any feminism I can recognize.

If your “feminism” isn’t vital, dynamic, inclusive, intersectional, focused on both meeting instrumental needs and addressing systems of oppression which leave marginalized people wanting, then it not only isn’t any feminism I can recognize, it’s as akin to any feminism I know as a lollipop is to a bullet.

(Thank you to the always edifying T.F. Charlton [@graceishuman] for some of the language that helped me clarify my thoughts on this matter. And as always: “My feminism will be intersectional or it will be bullshit.” – Flavia Dzodan)

[Trigger Warning: Sexual Violence] The Not So Well-Reasoned Critique

Today, my friend @portraitofjenny asked me:

Do you have any kick-ass well-reasoned unassailable critiqus of the “women shouldn’t invite rape with attire/behaviour” thing?

I told her that I didn’t have links to any, I’m sure they’ve been written, but I prefer a single sentence response: clothing is not consent, even nudity does not confer it.

Of course, I’m not disposed toward rape apologia, so for me that’s enough. But I recognize that it’s not that simple. So when Jenny asked if I had anything more, to counter the (offensive and dehumanizing) example that is the most common refrain of casual slut-shaming rape apologia: “I wouldn’t wear an expensive watch in a dark alley in the wrong part of town.” And I went off on a bit of rant toward the guys saying that. And it went something like this:

People are raped wearing burkas, in pajamas in their own beds, in nuns’ habits and jeans and t-shirts. People aren’t often raped on beaches in bikinis. This is because rape isn’t about clothing. Rapists aren’t tempted into rape by “available” flesh on display, they’re tempted by opportunity. And many opportunities arise while their victims are simply engaging in activities of everyday living, in every day clothing. But you’re speaking primarily of stranger rape, built on an idea of some guy in the shadows who sees some uncovered woman and can’t stop himself, leaping out and overcoming her. That’s not what the vast majority of rape is. It’s a date who won’t hear “no.” It’s a coworker who fixates and stalks. It’s friends, boyfriends and husbands who don’t need their victims to be in tiny skirts or baring cleavage because their victims trust them. And they violate that trust and their victims’ bodies not because of their victims’ clothing or naivete or because of opportunity, but because they can, because they want to hurt, to teach a lesson or most often, to take what they think they’re entitled to. And that is their fault, and their fault alone.

But even for victims of stranger rape, once we start talking about what they might have done differently, start critiquing their dress and behavior or start trying to concoct a cautionary tale, what you’re saying is that sometimes rape is the fault of someone other than rapists. You’re suggesting some idea of shared liability, as if rape is like a car accident with both parties sharing some level of blame. And that idea is not morally, ethically or legally valid. It’s the perpetuation of a myth, the shaming and slandering of victims and, worse, the insulation of perpetrators from the responsibility of rape in order to obfuscate who does it, where they do it, and when. It’s to cover up the times you and your friends have been fuzzy about the consent of your partners. It’s to further a culture in which you haven’t been taught about what consent is (the presence of yes, not just the absence of no) but you have been taught, often and well, about “sluts” and what they “deserve.”

Think on that, and then explain how a short skirt says something more meaningful or understandable than the “no” of the person wearing it.

It’s not a well-reasoned critique, but it is a heartfelt one.

Merry Class Gap

There isn’t much stronger an indictment of the audacity of Republican economic policy than going from the Pine Township ($85k median income, 70%+ Romney voters) Market District supermarket and the McKees Rocks ($22k median income, ~90% Obama voters) Bottom Dollar on the same day.

At Market District, a woman who checked out beside me bought $650+ of food, including a piece of lamb that was about $80, and I saw her loading her ~two dozen bags into a BMW SUV. At Bottom Dollar, an elderly woman was crying in the parking lot because her battery on her old beater van was dead and no one (including me) had jumper cables, and a young mother ahead of me in line, soaked to the skin because she’d walked to the market in the pouring rain, couldn’t buy the tiny $6 chicken she was hoping could be Christmas dinner because there wasn’t enough money left on her SNAP card.

I’m entirely sure that the lady with the BMW could stand to have more chicken dinners rather than lamb, if she’d even have to make that sacrifice in order to pay a little more in taxes so that a young mom on SNAP wouldn’t have to make meals out of generic mac and cheese and tuna for her and her little girl in the last week of the month. Maybe all of the luxury cars I saw in the Market District lot will have to be kept another year before they’re traded in, their owners making that sacrifice, so that a woman with a van that’s falling apart won’t have to sacrifice some discounted groceries in order to buy a new battery. (Or at least a set of jumper cables.)

But maybe I’m failing to see some larger picture…

No, I’m almost entirely certain that I’m not.