Should I Call Myself a Feminist
The Oxford English Dictionary defines femini- just kidding, fuck that.
Feminism is a perennial topic in social discourse at large, and recently in my own life too. As a man, I’ve always been apprehensive to approach the subject or voice any especially strong opinions on the matter because, well, I am de facto more likely to be part of the problem than the solution. But, in the spirit of trying to be a better person etc etc, perhaps I have a responsibility to infilitrate my own gender and dismantle the patriarchy from right under its very nose! If I were to brand myself as a feminist, surely fellow men, previously wallowing in misogyny, will see my example and realise the error of their ways?
Well, I mean, I doubt it. I’m hardly a bastion of masculinity, nor a leader of many men, and frankly I wouldn’t take any notice of what I said if I were anyone else (and neither should you, dear reader). I think there is a credible argument to be made that even if I can move the needle one iota towards achieving gender equality that it would be worth my time, and if it were a true freeroll, then I would absolutely agree. My suspicion is that it is possible that branding myself as a feminist could certainly have a downside - admittedly I think that downside would be to me personally rather than the movement itself, but hey, we all know you’ve gotta look out for #1.
As I alluded to earlier, feminism is not easy to define (at least not for my small, malformed and regrettably male brain), and that is part of my reluctance to take on the feminist label. Given that I spend much of my time in the radically polarised echo chambers that consitute the internet, I’m all too wary of misandry wearing the mask of fighting for equality, and I think that particular strategy is utterly doomed to fail in its quest to make any kind of inroads. For plenty of real people, I very much hope that feminism does simply mean social equality, particularly equality of opportunity, but seeing as I never go outside of never spoken to any of these “real” people.
There is also something very disingenuous in my mind about men who vocally brand themselves as allies of the feminist cause, but perhaps that is simply my relentless cynicism getting the better of me. I am mortally afraid of confrontation, and, rather upsettingly, I am sure the path to social parity is going to be defined by confrontation, and it would seem that I am too much of a coward to be willing to die on that particular hill.
Lastly, I don’t feel as if I have earned the right to call myself a feminist. While it’s a dirty word in certain dark, unpleasant smelling corners of the web, all the women I know who staunchly avow the cause are strong, passionate, intelligent and inspirational. They are the ones who are suffering the great many injustices of modern society, not myself, and who are still resilient enough to fight tooth and nail to change things. I simply don’t deserve to ride on their coattails until I have actually done something meaningful to bring about change, and so until that happens, my reticence to call myself a feminist shall remain.