where the unicorns are...

once, many moons ago, when i was a very different sort of person and just stepping into the vast and often painful abyss of radical feminism, i had a hugely frustrating "conversation" with a room full of liberal "feminist men".

mind you, there were feminist women there as well, but they sat by silently while the men and i argued over "men's place in feminism" and whether or not they had a right to define, critique, or take on leadership roles within it. i argued that they absolutely don't and the fact that they would even consider it only illuminated their sexism and ridiculous sense of entitlement.

this did not go over well, as you can imagine.

the men rolled their eyes, dismissed and talked over me, deferred to one another on the subject, (because men are "experts" on women's oppression, just as they're "experts" on everything else) and waved their "reverse sexism" flags frequently. obviously, they busted out the "if you want us as allies you have to play by our rules" card, pronto. alas, at the time i had yet to read twisty's brilliant post so did not have the "it is either wrong to oppress people or it isn't. what's it gonna be, assholes?" phrase at the ready.

instead, my argument basically went like this:

"no, you don't have a right to define a women's movement since you're men. no you don't. no you don't. no. you. don't! stop talking over me! keep your partriarchy out of my feminist movement! see? this is a perfect example of men silencing women! stop ignoring me! it's my turn to talk! who cares what he thinks about feminism, he's a man! see? this is why you can't be part of the movement, you ignore women!"

and so on. not very productive and needless to say, i was frustrated and deeply hurt at the end of the night. not only by the men, but by the women who sat by silently, never coming to my defense (our defense, really) or joining in the discussion at all, likely out of fear of being labeled one of "those" feminists. the unfun ones. the ones like me.

and while my ostracism from the group was swift, their silence kept them secure in their positions within this "progressive" circle. it was then that i fully acknowledged that men cannot be feminists, they can only be pro-feminist/feminist allies, and even then, only if they put a lid on it and stay out of our way.

we appreciate the support and the signatures on our petitions, but leadership roles, agenda, direction, et cetera must be decided BY WOMEN. you can try to divide us and say you'll withdraw support if we don't "play nice", but that only makes you an asshole. women's liberation is right and if you're against the movement because you think i'm a bitch then you were never an ally anyway.

which brings me to the fucking point of this tirade which is this post: "How Can I Be sexist? I’m An anarchist!” that i found via staged awareness via feministe.

an excerpt:

Nilou, holding my hand, patiently explained, “I'm not saying you're an evil person, I'm saying that you're sexist and sexism happens in a lot of subtle and blatant ways. You cut me off when I'm talking. You pay more attention to what men say. The other day when I was sitting at the coffee shop with you and Mike, it was like the two of you were having a conversation and I was just there to watch. I tried to jump in and say something, but you both just looked at me and then went back to your conversation. Men in the group make eye contact with each other and act like women aren’t even there. The study group has become a forum for men in the group to go on and on about this book and that book, like they know everything and just need to teach the rest of us. For a long time I thought maybe it was just me, maybe what I had to say wasn't as useful or exciting. Maybe I needed to change my approach, maybe I was just overreacting, maybe it's just in my head and I need to get over it. But then I saw how the same thing was happening to other women in the group, over and over again. I'm not blaming you for all of this, but you're a big part of this group and you're part of this dynamic.” This conversation changed my life and it’s challenge is one I continue to struggle with in this essay.

that is so much how my argument back then started, but with a much more productive ending. this guy left the table with new insight and the will to challenge his own assumptions and question his privilege. the guys left my table pissed off and offended, thinking i was one uppity bitch. which i am. and i get less and less fun with every passing year.

someday i shall learn diplomacy, for now i rant and rave. huzzah!