I am a woman, and I find pride in being a woman. I do not solely see myself as a person who just happens to be a woman, rather it is a part of me. Throughout my life I have had the pleasure of being surrounded by complex and beautiful women. They formed the mirror through which I now see my own femininity reflected back to me. Growing up, the women in my family worked nine to five, cared for their children, and still found time to clean and cook. I admired them, and dreamed of becoming like them. Success had no gender barrier. I could be anything I wanted, whether it be the president, an astronaut, a doctor, or a teacher.
While past waves of feminism have helped to improve life; they often ignored the other intersecting identities women often carry. In recent years, there has been a large push by women of color, disabled women, and LGBT women to make the feminist movement more intersectional, and to shift focus to more issues such as gendered racism, homophobia, ableism and transmisogyny (Felsenthal). To reject intersectionality within feminism is to ignore the problems that women face outside of income inequality and societal expectations of femininity. In order to move forward, women must continue to address the multiple problems that multiple classes of women face, not just the privileged few (Dastagir). We must recognize that intersecting identities are what make women unique and complex, but are also used as means of marginalization and disenfranchisement. We as women must also continue to support each other, allow those without a voice to speak, and to never become complacent in our fight against gender inequality.
I was born July 10th, 1996 in a hospital on the west side of Evansville, Indiana to two loving parents. My mother, coming from an east coast-based family moved to Evansville when she was young, she spent her formative years in much of the same way I did. She left Evansville to go to school in Charleston, meeting my dad in the process. My father, a born and bred southern man, with family in Virginia and South Carolina later moved to be with my mother in Evansville, uprooting his life (a decision he would come to regret much later). Despite my parents’ cultural differences, my life growing up was both fairly happy and uneventful— the hallmark of most midwestern childhoods. The biggest drama of the week came from plot lines in reruns of Lizzie McGuire, and dinosaur-shaped chicken nuggets were a dietary staple. While we did not live lavishly, my family still lived in white, middle class comfort. In my childhood home, the party of choice was Republican and the faith was Christian; this was not up for debate.
Hillary Clinton’s 2016 electoral victory would have signaled another historic presidency, and historic achievement for women. She was supposed to be the woman who broke the glass ceiling. Although I and others remained critical of her during her run, her hawkish foreign policy and her more moderate leanings being big points of contention, I still recognized that the other outcome would likely have disastrous results for many. In the wake of Trump’s election, bigots felt emboldened. They felt that they now had a voice, and no longer had to hide in the shadows. Suddenly the events I knew only from history books felt too real. However, from this fear grew an aggressive need to fight, both within myself and millions across the world; we understood we could no longer afford to live in fear. The election of Donald Trump gave way to a powerful resistance, and it was this resistance that gave women a reason to fight and to march on Washington on January 21, 2017.
As I aged I began to realize that the concept of womanhood was not the same to everyone else. My freshman year of high school a male classmate approached me in the hallway near our lockers and said “You’re smart for a girl, you don’t look or act like it though.” The phrase “I hate other girls, they’re so catty” and its variations also rang constantly in my ears from female classmates. “Slut” was thrown around as an insult in reality shows, and Facebook friends mourned the devaluation of female purity. Womanhood was weakness, maleness was perfect and unquestionable. I soon began to doubt myself and repeat these ideas aloud. I tried to convince myself that I was not like the other girls. I enjoyed movies and bands that the other girls did not, I did not care about Abercrombie or Hollister, and I certainly was not ditzy. Eventually I came to reject these ideas, after realizing that it was not the other girls who were the issue. Rather, it was the beliefs held by society about girls that were the issue.
On November 9, 2016, Hillary Clinton lost the United States presidential election to Donald Trump. It was an outcome that could easily be described as one of the most unpredictable in recent memory (Berenson). Trump’s seemingly impossible victory was the result of an intense, and often very ugly campaign that spoke largely to white voters who felt disillusioned following Barack Obama’s historic reelection (Barbaro). Throughout the election cycle the majority of polls named Clinton the likely victor, placing a comfortable margin between her and Trump (Berenson). However, few actually predicted that the reality television star and businessman would defeat the highly qualified politician. People who were once declaring confidently “He will not win” now were asking “How could this have happened?” Pundits suggested Trump’s victory was a result of “economic insecurity”, and that Clinton’s loss was because voters simply did not find her trustworthy (Ball). Regardless of the cause, Trump’s win left many in the United States and abroad terrified for their safety and the future of the world, myself included.
As I grew and became more painfully aware of my boring existence, I began retreating to the computer. I grew up in the age in which computers in every household was still a fairly new concept, and dial up was the norm. However, I was and still am very much a child of the internet. Then came the dawn of the social media age, and my growth as a young adult. In real life I was an average teenager who participated in normal teenaged activities. I spent time with my friends, listened to music, and went to the movies. However, much of my growth came from my time online. It was through the websites I frequented that I began to appreciate certain art forms, such as photography, and explore different subcultures; which would later to go on to shape my career path as a photographer and graphic designer. I also began to learn about social movements such as feminism. It was through my online community that I gained in education in social activism, that I am still adding on to this day. Before, my political beliefs were simply my parents’ words parroted, now my voice is entirely my own and no one can take it away from me.
In the year 2017, many argue that women in the United States of America have equal rights. While gender equality is much closer to being a reality in developed nations like the United States; it has still not been achieved (May). In 2015, the United States only reached twenty-eighth place on an annual list ranking countries on gender equality; previously it ranked among the top twenty nations. Although the gender gap has been closed significantly since the 1920’s, equal pay is still out of reach, women still face discrimination in many areas of life (Weise), and laws restricting reproductive rights are still bandied about in Congress by male lawmakers (Bassett). Often when I or other women cite these issues as being symptoms of gender inequality, we are silenced and told that women in countries like Saudi Arabia or Yemen have it far worse. We are effectively silenced, and told our struggles do not matter because somewhere someone has it worse.
When I was much younger and naive I still believed gender had no barriers; however, my understanding of femininity was tied to the belief that being a woman meant being a mother and a wife. Now I realize that I alone form my own definition of what it means to be a woman, not others. I do not have to be a mother or wife. I do not have to stay at home or cater to a husband’s every whim and desire. I do not have to be submissive, likable, and pure. I am allowed to be dominant, angry, and empowered. I am proud of being a woman even if others do not feel it is such an honor. I recognize that I have to fight to have my voice heard because many do not believe I deserve a voice to begin with. I have also finally come to see that gender barriers do exist, but now it is my job to break them.