On Feminism

Beastocity: 3
(no, I didn't become a creepy old guy. that would be qualify for 3 to the millionth power)

“Yes.”
Apparently the question had gone around to all the women in the room and I had just pulled out of a side conversation in time to hear “Jenn, are you a feminist?” Without pausing to think, I simply replied “Yes.” Although there are a million definitions and ideas of what a feminist looks like (see popular t-shirt above) I felt pretty confident that I was one of them. I was surprised to hear that I was the only woman in the room that said that they were a feminist. The other women seemed uncertain about identifying themselves as ‘a feminist’ and felt more comfortable describing what was feminist-y about them and some coming to the conclusion of “I guess so…” I don’t blame them! So often feminists are thought of as bra-burning-angry-unshowered-unshaven-she-woman-man-haters. Who would want to identify themselves with that and make all the men in the room break out in a cold sweat and locate the nearest exit? Not me. So recently (since this happened just last week) I’ve been thinking about why I would call myself a feminist.

From an early age I felt a strong desire to break out of traditional gender roles. I refused to wear dresses for a period of time in elementary school. I insisted on running around and climbing trees barefoot. In high school I had one of my guy friends show me how to lift weights because I was so tired of people not allowing me to carry heavy things. Coming into college I gladly told people that I didn’t know how to cook (which I think I avoided learning on purpose) and would find many an occasion to flex so that I could enjoy the surprised looks on people’s faces.

But feminism isn’t just about defying gender roles, especially if most of that comes out of bitterness and angst. My kind of feminism comes from a longing and desire to see everyone become the person that God created them to be without the barriers of gender roles. I desire to see both men and women encouraging each other and fighting the “roles” of society to fulfill their God given purposes. That sounds amazing! I think that (along with processing my own angst!) is why I’m a feminist.
So, yes, I do also have my own angst (which my friends and boyfriend lovingly and patiently help me to work through) which has often given me a little attitude around my office. It’s getting better (although this afternoon I did try to scarily brandish a knife in the kitchen because I was getting annoyed…tee hee) and I was able to keep a level head when I had a particularly interesting conversation with one of the principal architects in our office today.

I delivered this huge box to him the other day and he came up to my desk with it this afternoon excitedly telling me that it was a grill. He was so excited because apparently one of our consultants had sent us a small grill last year and it was stolen (I had never heard about any such story). So he was saying that he wanted a safe place to store it and I assumed that was why he was involving me in this. Ha. Next thing I know someone else asked him what he was going to do with a grill and he looked right at me and he said “No, it’s for YOU. It’s for balcony hour!” Cringe. Poor guy. He was smiling so big and looked so happy and I must have looked like I was in severe pain. Half of me had my mouth open trying to smile and the other half of me was trying to figure out how to look as disinterested as possible so that I could break it to him I wasn’t about ‘fire up the barbie’ on a weekly basis. It’s enough that I slice bread and wash fruit for them every Thursday afternoon for our office happy hour on the balcony but… grilling? No way. I think the only thing that saved me was that I was still slightly amused at situation (who sends grills for holiday presents? Aren’t we in a recession?) Luckily I kept my mouth shut (although statements like “yeah, right” and “YOU can grill, I’m not grilling” were close to surfacing) because after we opened it, it turned out to just be frozen meat from a famous bbq place in Texas (apparently he had just opened a corner and saw the words BBQ). Needless to say, I was spared from becoming “Jennifer the Grill Master” and now I only have to figure out how we’re going to heat and serve several pounds of ribs, sausage, and brisket.

Lucky me :)