I’m fond of saying that everyone should be a feminist, because everyone either is a woman, loves a woman, is queer* or all three; which is why lesbians make such good feminists.  When I told my friend B this, she saw right to the heart of the matter, and asked if I had a girlfriend.  Astute friends like that make coming out easy.

I’m not a lesbian because I’m a feminist, and I’d always presumed the contrary was true as well; but B made me think about the link.  Am I a feminist because I am a lesbian?

Six months earlier I’d been expounding on a feminist point with another group of friends, and K asked me, whether, being a feminist, I was also a lesbian.  I denied this with the fervour of the still-in-denial-but-slowly-watching-my-certainty-fray-at-the-edges self-closetee.  Looking back two years later, I know I was wrong about me being straight, but was I also wrong in saying that there is no link between being a woman loving woman and fighting for gender equality?

Lesbians experience the power of the patriarchy in real terms.  Sex without men baffles a society which is deeply uncomfortable with female sexuality, and society’s response may be seen in the prevalence of girl on girl porn and erotica for male consumption — it functions as a way of bringing men into an act in which they are otherwise absent.  The pop culture norm of performative and male centred lesbianism is something that lesbians encounter regularly in jokes, but also in the inevitable straight man at the gay bar, looking for hot threesome action/creepy staring.

See what I did there?

The fact that women earn less than men,  even after factoring in pregnancy and children, has a greater impact in a household made up of two women.

Not only this, but while straight women might linger at the dangle-the-toes-in stage of feminism for fear of being labelled a lesbian, lesbian and bi women are more likely to jump right in upon hearing that lesbians await the intrepid voyager into feminism.

This last was probably what snatched my interest.

I was 14 or 15 the first time I called myself a feminist.  I had no idea that my ideal family structure would involve two substandard female paychecks.  I was largely unaware of the extreme objectification of the female form in lesbian sex as packaged to straight men.  I had no reasonable prospects of meeting gay ladies by venturing into feminism, did not know that I might even desire to.  But something in my adolescent brain started jumping around excitedly when I discovered the idea of lesbian feminists.  Something caught my eye, so to speak.  Inspired me to take a closer look.

My mother told us about lesbians when my sister and I were 9 and 10.  Someone had slung the word at my sister at school, and on the way home that day she asked what it meant.  Mum told us that gay means happy, and that homosexuals adopted it because people were insulting them and they wanted a word that described, but did not insult them.  She told us that our uncles T and D were gay, and that women could be gay too.  She didn’t make it sound exciting.

There was absolutely no mention of this:

I immediately dismissed the possibility that I might be gay; I wasn’t special or lucky.  I’d never be able to be so cool as to be an actual lesbian.  I’d just be a wanna-be lesbian feminist.

But I could be a feminist, and I got right on to that.

So, maybe, my early feminism was a result of seduction by the sexy, sexy lesbians; sure, elements of my personal situation heighten my awareness of the patriarchy, and empower me to act on that awareness.  But largely I am a feminist (who happens to be a lesbian) and not a lesbian feminist.

Fair warning to all sad, sorry young men trolling the streets of my city: if you cat-call me (as one unfortunate boy discovered the other day), I will not take it.

I will instead stop my bike, ask you to please explain precisely why you think it’s acceptable to speak to me that way, and spend the next five to seven minutes schooling you on just exactly how sad and sorry you are; the bigger the audience, the better, because if you think that you can shame me for being a woman, then I’d very much like you to be as shamed as possible in as public an arena as possible. If you shout at me on the street, I will shout back because you are putting my body on display and expecting my silent acquiescence. If you think that my female subjectivity makes my body forfeit, then you are, in this case, sadly goddamn mistaken. I’m not interested in that game, so I’m going to shout and lecture and belittle you — I am going to get in your face — I am going to make you look at my eyes and not at my tits – I’m going to make a big goddamn scene — I’m going to crush you with my intellect and my voice and my power so that what is now on display is your pathetic misogyny, not my body.

I am decidedly not your “baby girl.” You seem to be unclear about why that’s an insulting thing to call me, a grown-ass woman, so let me explain; by calling me “baby girl,” you are attempting to reduce my subjectivity to the kind of small, manageable size that allows you to overpower me, to disregard my personhood, and to ignore my humanity. By calling me “baby girl,” you elide me. That’s not to say that the term baby girl never be one of endearment or kindness, but if you’ll recall, I don’t know and therefore cannot endear you. If I gave you permission to speak to me in that way, it would be a different matter but, hey! I didn’t, so shut your mouth. I am no one’s baby, I am not a girl, and, more importantly, I am not the kind of woman who allows herself to be spoken to in that manner. Should I repeat myself? I’ll repeat myself: if you call me out on the street, expect that I will speak back. You want a monologue, but you’ve damn well walked into a dialogue, and now we’re going to have a conversation. It’s not as much fun when your victim talks back, is it?

I apologize for the fact that we live in a culture that trains you to think that you can somehow enhance your masculinity through that kind of behavior, but my sadness will not diminish the righteous fury of my talking back. I am sorry that you’ve been led to believe that you will be bigger, better, and more manly if you belittle women. I’m sorry that your own male subjectivity means you’ve been locked into unequal, unjust networks of power. Your personhood is just as restricted as mine by these systems and that means that misogyny is a goddamn tragedy for the both of us. But you still have more privilege than I do, straight white man, and thus it is your responsibility to actively work to change those systems. You are a beneficiary of your privilege, but you don’t have to be a signatory to my oppression. If you want to actually prove yourself to be a person of worth, then you will join in the fight against this kind of bullshit instead of actively engaging in it.

And to the other men, standing around embarrassed and silent while I yelled at your friend? You are tacitly approving of his behavior by not taking a stance against it. Call him out, don’t let him save face, don’t put up with that bullshit. Because I’m about to bike away and then it will be up to you to take the next step. Do you want to be men of quality, or do you want to be passive supporters of inequality?

In sum, young sir, you picked the wrong bitch to mess with.

(originally posted here)

(This is a post from my own personal blog (with a few revisions) that I’ve wanted to share with the feministing community. Basically the story (rant?) about getting angry in a book store, but read on friends!)

On the ends of the earth, where the winds blow cold/ and there’s ice and snow on the north and south poles/ and the temperatures are rising each time we burn coal/ Is an effect of global climate change.

Yes, it’s me, your favorite feminist freak/ Guess what I’m going to be blogging about this week?  Well, I spend so much time on pop culture, I thought, why not try something new?/ So, I’m writing about global climate change’s impacts on women for you.  Yes, I realize a whole blog in rhyme could get old really fast/ (Oh, be quiet and let me enjoy it while it lasts)

Only half of Americans think that it’s real/ and even less than a half think it’s that big a deal.  According to the New York Time’s poll/ forty-eight percent don’t care at all.  Don’t blame them, though — though they seem like fools/ half the problem starts with what they learned in our schools.  USA Today reports that schools who oppose evolution/ also claim global science is a hoax of revolution, and how many schools do that, again?/ Supposedly thirty-eight percent, oh, it causes me pain!  But that’s not all, oh no/ these same folks do worse, reports show.  The usual suspects are a certain political party/ (which one, I’ll not say, at risk of sounding tarty) but each and every time, the same objections persist/ “Global climate change/evolution/gender inequality just don’t exist”.  But, trust me, it’s worse than you could possibly dream/ Now, I get back to climate change, if you’ll bear with me.

There’s something else at work, some other link/ Oh yes — it’s that of women and poverty, I think!  Especially overseas, where global climate change hits hardest/ you’ll find women whose peril is direst.  Africa’s had droughts, and famines, and diseases/ problems which temperature rises are only parts and pieces/ like mosquitos popping up, wherever the species pleases/ then spreading malaria with chills and fevers and wheezes.  Then, we see what happens to ecosystems, with the plants and animals upon whom these people depend for food, big or small/ Their economies depend on farming and labor, and rising temperatures and sea levels could end it all.  And who would go first, you might be wondering?/ Yes, it’s women in those communities who’d suffer for this blundering.  Not only that, but their children will have taken a toll/ and did I mention these women have little access to birth control?  How does one survive, when the whole world is against you?/ It’s, thus, up to us and it’s easy, I’ll bet you.

What’s the main cause of climate change, I ask/ If you don’t know, I don’t blame you — but, it cannot last.  It’s not what you think, not dumping or factories or cars/ the primary reason is the burgers we hold in our paws.  The meat industry is responsible for the loss of most of our forests/ and to top it all off, we don’t even know the scope of our losses.  Then, cows are grazed on the land that’s been cleared and smouldered/ which gives off more gasses than Limbaugh or Coulter.  If all of America were to go vegetarian for a day/ it would prevent more greenhouse gasses than all of France, they say.  What would it mean for women in the world?/ Well, improved health and work conditions, it would.  And with that, women could fight for their rights/ since they can’t now, when these troubles rule their nights.

So, scoot to populationaction.org, and see how you can help/ and climate change and gender inequality might change with a yelp.  We all do our part, like with the birds and the bees/ and it would save us some trees.  I’m your favorite feminist freak/ and a proud, tree-hugging geek.

Originally posted on my blog.

An open letter to those who think sexism is dead and the darn feminists need to stop being so angry:

I haven’t been blogging much lately, so when I noticed that I was getting a lot of page views, and a few really angry comments, I was curious. The majority were from a web site called Single Dude Travel, which seemed odd, since I’m not single, nor a dude, nor do I write about travel. Turns out, they had just linked to me because I’m a “retarded feminist.” They said I was too much of a silly idiot woman to take on directly, but they linked to an article that did. I will not link to them here, because they don’t deserve the attention. But basically their response to my argument against fat-shaming was that I’m a fat lesbian, so OF COURSE I feel that way. From there, I found a link to an article that argued that women are not fit to participate in the public sphere (seriously!!!), and they used my blog post as a prime example–apparently, I’m too emotional to tell people they’re ugly or obese, so I make up pseudo-arguments to make myself feel better. I shouldn’t quote this guy, because he does not deserve the attention, but I have to, because I cannot make this shit up (Grey is the guy who called me a fat lesbian, and when the author refers to Feministing, he’s talking about my post, not the whole site):

Grey’s argument was perfectly sound, but in a sense his engagement with Feministing is pointless. The author of the original post is a woman. Of course she’s going to say absurd things in order to ensure that no one feels bad. We should accept that. Often we ought to praise women for their sensitivities while ignoring their so-called arguments.

It’s the ovaries. They give me the crazies. (Also, I love that he tries to make that seem like a compliment…?) Oh, but the problem with this logic is that I AM cool with making some people feel bad…like people who think I’m too emotional to participate in the public sphere… However, if he STILL feels that I am “hysterical,” he could always send me a vibrator–I hear they used to use those to cure the “womb crazies” and stuff–I would gladly accept such, uh, medication for my “problem.”

But my point is, people say these things. Maybe not to your face, because you said nothing to provoke them. Or maybe because they’re scared. Or maybe you thought what they said was a joke. But it’s not. As much as I laughed at what these guys said about me, this is not a joke. This is serious. PEOPLE STILL THINK WOMEN SHOULD NOT PARTICIPATE IN THE PUBLIC SPHERE. THIS IS REAL. It’s extreme, I know. Most of you will be like, “But I support women working!” But, just as problematically, PEOPLE STILL USE FAT LESBIAN AS AN INSULT. And that’s a mainstream opinion.

On the one hand, I kind of feel like I earned a badge of honour. I mean, you hear of feminists being accused of being lesbians all the time–you know, the whole we’re-too-ugly-to-actually-get-a-guy thing, the we’re-bitter-angry-ugly-lesbians thing–but no one had ever said that to me! I was feeling kind of left out. Now I can join the club. Interestingly, I actually find it highly problematic that I’ve never been called a lesbian before. Because that says a lot more about what a lesbian can’t be than it does about me. I don’t get called a lesbian because most people that I’ve engaged with in arguments about feminism have seen what I look like. I’m thin. I have long dirty blonde hair. I wear a bra and girly tops and tight jeans or short shorts or skirts and I have a lot of pretty, impractical shoes. I put on mascara and lip gloss daily. I have long nails and I shave my legs. I’m young and white and conventionally attractive. By not calling me a lesbian, people are essentially saying that the only women who are lesbians are those who do not fit into heteronormative beauty standards. They are saying that if you’re deemed “fuckable” by men, then there’s no way you could refuse the penis! But all these guys online know is that I’m “getting all emotional” about the “fat chicks” and their “feelings” so I must be a lesbian. A fat one, too. Sorry, sweethearts, I’m actually not a lesbian–I don’t refuse all penis, just yours, you misogynistic fuckwads. (Come on, call me a slut now–I dare you.)

But, on the other hand, telling me (or, no, sorry, telling men behind my back) that my voice does not belong in the public sphere? You better be prepared for what you’ve started. I have never been more motivated to put my voice out there. Oh, and I’m a PhD student, too, or I will be in a few months, so you better believe that I have the avenues to do so. I will stir shit up. I’m only just getting started. You think that one blog post was something? I wrote that rant in twenty minutes. I never expected it to go viral; I was writing it for the hundred-odd friends and family that usually read my blog. You just wait and see what I can do when I actually put my mind to it. You will not break me.

Sincerely,

The thin white straight girl who STILL believes that ALL WOMEN ARE BEAUTIFUL

By Tiseme Zegeye, ACLU Women’s Rights Project & Elayne Weiss, ACLU Washington Legislative Office

Earlier this week Huffington Post reported, "American women have served in the military since there has been an America to serve." And while it is widely acknowledged that women are already engaging in combat, American servicewomen continue to be officially excluded from being "assigned" to direct ground combat positions by the so-called combat exclusion rule. This rule prevents women’s service from being fully recognized and stifles their career advancement.

Slow progress has been made towards ending sex discrimination in the armed forces. In February of this year, the Department of Defense announced that it would modify the combat exclusion rule to open up certain previously restricted jobs at the battalion level — though not in the infantry, armor, or special operations forces — and to remove a rule that prevented women from serving in positions that were required to "co-locate" with combat units. This past Monday, the Army announced that it will begin to implement DOD’s new policy. And just last month, the Marine Corps announced that it plans to allow enlisted Marine women access to infantry training, and attend the previously male-only Infantry Officers Course in Quantico, Va. (women will still not be permitted to serve in the infantry once they complete training).

Yet, while the new policy’s implementation will mean that women are now eligible for 14,000 jobs that were once exclusively male, women are still barred from more than 250,000 positions on account of their sex.

The steps DOD has taken are necessary, but far from sufficient. Since the 1970s, the ACLU has been fighting to end discrimination against women in the military. Excluding women from combat based solely on their sex is grounded in part on broad and outdated stereotypes, including the notion that women’s role is not to kill or put in harm’s way and the belief that women are not physically able to engage in combat.

The combat exclusion rule also ignores the reality of modern warfare — there are no frontlines in the Iraq and Afghanistan wars. In fact, women are already serving in combat, and at present, 139 women have made the ultimate sacrifice for their country.

While we recognize the progress DOD has made in the last couple of months, we urge the department to do away with this discriminatory policy that presupposes women to be unqualified to serve in combat roles and harms their military careers in the process. It’s time for our government to start properly recognizing the service and sacrifice of our brave women in uniform. Let’s hope they don’t have to wait too much longer to get the credit they deserve.

We’d like to hear your story if you are a servicewoman or veteran and you want to serve in a combat arms unit or attend a combat arms school or training program. Please contact us at (212) 519-7858 or womensrights@aclu.org.

All information will be treated as confidential. This is not a solicitation or an offer by the ACLU to represent you. We cannot promise that any information you provide will lead to any specific action on our part.

Women in the tech field are few and far between. That’s why I was excited when I came across an article titled “Half of Tween Girls Are Online Gamers” while perusing the Mashable archives today. Since I’m a woman working in the tech field alongside Ballpoint CEO, Susan Leigh Babcock, I excitedly clicked to learn about this new generation of lady techies. Ultimately, I was saddened by what I found.

According to a new report, “50% of tween girls between the ages of 8 and 12 are turning to the Internet for entertainment and social gaming.” I was excited about this. I don’t really care about how many girls are gamers, I care about the fact that girls are just as familiar with technology — one of tomorrow’s biggest fields — as their y-chromosome toting counterparts. So, this seemed to be excellent news. Then I kept reading.

The report came from GirlsgoGames.com. A gaming site that’s made just for little girls. How wonderful, our gender informs the games we can play! (Insert sarcasm here.) Go to their website and you’ll immediately see that EVERYTHING is wrong. Apparently, girls of the millennial generation (AKA generation next) are still supposed to grow up to be trophy wives, cupcake bakers, and Suzy homemakers. Let me just say that all of those professions are fine in my book! You want to be a trophy wife? That’s your prerogative, sweetheart.

My issue is that we’re pushing these professions on our girls. By showing them *only* stereotypically feminine choices, aren’t we limiting their options? Aren’t these stupid games, with taglines like “When it comes to cakes, Sandy is in a league of her own.” or “Charm your way into these hunks’ hearts. May the best flirt win.”, embedding these notions into a new generation of women?

Although I’m not in favor of these girl or boy-only gaming sites, why can’t the games they feature be a little more substantial? For instance, I love animals so I’m totally in favor of keeping the cutesy animal games. But, why can’t they revolve around the notion that girls can grow up to be veterinarians who take care of these animals? An animal hospital game would be so much fun! It would accomplish the same thing, but would concurrently give little girls something to aspire to.

I’m just saying that my ability to decorate donuts, apply eyeliner, or flirt with hunks didn’t get me through college. And those things certainly didn’t get me a job in one of the worst job markets ever for recent graduates.

Parents, game developers, and little girls of the world, we can do better.

*Written by me, Kelley Lane, and originally posted here*

The feelings that come up when you read or watch someone you so readily admire and relate to, are really interesting. I realize today that my female heroes are women who so honestly depict their experience, they consequently mirror my own experiences. I’ve started reading Simone de Beauvoir’s memoirs; she writes about her emotional experiences growing older, self discovery, and her relationship to her family and the world around her. Literally every page, my mouth is hanging open with astonishment at her ability to so profoundly write about the cognitive development and experience of growing up female. She is amazing at depicting the anxiety, enjoyment, and disappointment of existing and changing at the same time. As an academic, I feel her experiences so greatly mirror mine, that it is almost like reading a play about my emotional life. I never want the book to end, because the satisfaction I get from reading about another woman with the same experience is amazing.

I also just finished an episode of Girls, and I am so overwhelmed with appreciation for Lena Dunham to have created a show that so honestly depicts the weirdness of being in your 20′s, of all the mistakes, and the often contradictory life  experiences that occur in lieu of one’s moral self.  I read somewhere that some feminists (which is a title I stand by) are commenting on how in the last episode, all the women used sex to gain power,  however I didn’t see that (only after reading their comments did I slightly see).

I think so often people try to analyze or claim meaning to an experience or show or book within the context of some absolute essentialist manner, “this is not feminist because… ” “All the women are using sex because, ” rather than commenting on the fact that maybe this is an actual account into the often muddy grey zone young women find themselves in. We can’t always keep our guard up, eagerly playing out the moral code of feminism, or some religion, or at least political correctness. Women and life are much more complex then that, and the second we try to essentialize the experience, we lose the point. To me it seems counter-feminist to minimize this show to “unfeminist rhetoric,” and by doing so we lose sight of the fact that this show is commenting on some women’s lives in a real way.

In any case, I am so thankful for de Beauvoir and Denham for gracing this earth with a raw account of the emotional, mental, and moral roller coster that is female.

So I want to get a nose piercing….big deal, right? Its the quintessential “woman activist” thing to do – stage a revolution, get a nose piercing (not necessarily in that order). Its like any other piercing, or a tattoo, or a streak of pink in my hair —so why can’t I stop thinking about it?

Actions speak louder than words. This was the response of many gay rights activists in light of President Obama’s public endorsement of same-sex marriage. While it was a moving and courageous public stance on a socially charged issue, many proponents of marriage equality believed that the statement did very little in the legal nightmare revolving around the recognition of same-sex marriages at the federal level.

I disagree. Although late and obviously incomplete, it is necessary for a world leader at the President’s level to speak with conviction to a global audience on an issue that he and other politicians have dodged in a political dance with public opinion. He chose the medium of national television to deliver an announcement in his own words about why he believes that same-sex couples should have all the rights heterosexual couples enjoy. He cited his children, and how he would not know how to explain to them at the dinner table that the same-sex parents of their friends would be denied the same rights straight parents take for granted.

This is not just the fight for the title of “marriage.” Rarely is anyone I know aware that 1,138 rights are denied to gay couples because of their marital status. If you are heterosexual, take a minute to understand how you would feel if you were passed up for these benefits.

When the same-sex marriage law was passed in New York on a hot summer Friday night last year, I remember feeling that I had woken up to a different city the next day. Although nothing had physically changed, I walked through Times Square that weekend believing that as a gay woman of color in New York, I was suddenly visible and protected by law. The state would now acknowledge my ten-year relationship, and I could march to City Hall and get this magical piece of paper I could show anyone who still questioned this fact.

I was wrong.

I have shared with my partner the same up and downs as any heterosexual couple. We’ve discussed children, have completely intertwined finances, and have the same financial and emotional concerns as any other couple with or without children. Our lives revolve around work, bills, and ensuring that we continue to live many more happy and healthy years together, just like everyone else’s families would want for themselves. But because any marriage I enter into with my same-sex partner is not recognized by the federal government, I get a greatly disproportionate amount of benefits and I’m denied many rights regardless of the fact that I pay full social security payments and taxes.

I cannot get her social security benefits if she dies. If I have a child and I die, my spouse and my child will not get any of the money I paid and saved my entire working life for their benefit.  My company may refuse to give health insurance benefits to my dependent spouse, or if they do give insurance, I will have to pay taxes on this benefit where heterosexual couples are exempt.  I’m not eligible for Family Leave should my partner fall ill, or if our child is sick and I didn’t legally adopt my non-biological child. We will not be eligible for countless survivors’ benefits, rights, and tax exemptions should our other half die. As an American citizen, I would not be able to give my spouse and non-biological child Permanent Resident status or citizenship the way heterosexual couples easily can.

These are only few (but very basic) things that I am denied as tax-paying citizen of the United States, and contrary to marriage equality opponents’ beliefs, this issue is not even anywhere around anatomy or whether or not our union is “suitable” in everyone else’s eyes. Lives, finances, and children’s welfare are at stake when families are denied federal rights that are readily given to any two opposite-sex people who meet on the street today and decide to get married tomorrow.

Imagine for a second these rights were taken away from you because the government said your family just “doesn’t look right.”  Imagine also that you are told that your happy and loving family is a threat to traditional marriages. In Hillary Clinton’s speech about gay rights to the UN in December, she said, “Progress comes from being willing to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. We need to ask ourselves, ‘How would it feel if it were a crime to love the person I love? How would it feel to be discriminated against for something about myself that I cannot change?’”

This is what President Obama did when he spoke to the world yesterday and finally voiced his opinion on the matter of same-sex marriage. His words may not bear weight and he may not have changed any laws in those few minutes of public speaking, but he put the topic up for discussion at every dinner table in America. Parents will be forced to explain to their children why their friends are denied rights based on their family structure. Black and Latino voters who make up both Obama’s base as well as the major opponents of same-sex marriage might begin to open their eyes given the strength and courage of their beloved leader. Politicians will see that a marriage equality stance is no longer a career death sentence, but possibly even a good public move.

Most of all, every gay teen and child in the world, every closeted and out homosexual, whether single or busy with the everyday task of family life, will remember the day when the first President of the United States did the right thing and spoke up for the millions of gay families who just want what all the other families have taken for granted from the beginning of time. It gives us an ally. It makes us feel that we are no longer invisible. It tells us that change is definitely coming.

To me, those words are action enough.

Shakira Sison