Click.... when we knew we were feminists

[Kobi]

I am reading a book called "Click. When we knew we were feminists" by Martin and Sullivan.

It is an anthology of stories by women and a man about the events surrounding the moment when the lightbulb clicked and they knew they were feminists. Some stories are sweet, some sad, some maddening, all educational.

So, I'm wondering, what were the events surrounding your Click! moment?

For me, it was a Sunday back in the early 60's. My Dad, a stereotypical macho Italian man, was driving me and my brothers home from our weekly visit to the Grandparents. My Mom was home recovering from recent surgery.

When we were almost home, I asked my Dad to drop me off at my cousins cuz I wanted to go play. I was greeted with a tirade on his expectations of me as the girl/female when my Mother was sick. It blossomed into his overall expectations of females period.

I was 6 years old. That was the moment I knew I was a feminist.

And you?

[The_Lady_Snow]

My Abuelita introduced me to her Coven, a bunch of women from the vecindades around her were all there. They were discussing politics, households and some of their families. My Abuelta refered to my Mom as a non feminista and pointed to me saying " she'll ruin la pulga" if I don't keep doing what I'm doing. My Abuelita paved that road for me..

[Nat]

My mother - who doesn't describe or think of herself as a feminist - made it pretty impossible for me not to be a feminist. My dad left when I was 3, and my (very strong) mom dealt. She moves mountains. And she talked to me about her experiences being treated as though she were stupid at work and also being blatantly sexually harrassed at her first job. After her divorce, she said she would never remarry, and although she dated, she was clear about not wanting to be serious. She doesn't suffer fools and she doesn't put up with bs. Since my first memories of her, she went from being a secretary to getting 2 masters degrees, having a full and rewarding career while researcying for and writing a book (non-fiction, history). She's also an artist who has over the years made some beautiful art and had some really interesting hobbies. She's also a musician who plays both the cello and the viola di gamba. She's interested and curious about the world and about life and nature and how things work. She's just awesome and a powerhouse.

I am not a powerhouse in the same vein, but with her as an example there was never a time when a blatantly sexist statement couldn't be counteracted by my own mother's realness.

I think the first time I remember being really offended by sexism was when my 8th grade spanish teacher stated to our class that she would never vote for a woman president because women's periods make them crazy.

The sense of indignance and feeling of betrayal that a woman, a teacher, would say that to our class - pissed me off enormously. It still pisses me off. So I guess if there was a *click* it was that.

[Julie]

My Dad... Growing up he was the epitome of misogyny. He used women as he wanted and really had no issue with it. Not until he had me. He always said, he knew I was different (then my sister) and wanted so much more for me. Not that he didn't want that for my sister -- we just had a different relationship.

He taught me to be strong and to NEVER sell my soul to the man or to the machine.

So, this sexist - this man who saw women as mere sex objects and women to fulfill his needs in his castle - taught me to be the most amazing strong woman imaginable. Perhaps I was his lesson. He died a feminist. I am proud.

[Starbuck]

Growing up I followed in the footsteps of my mother, the man brings home the bacon, you're a housewife, he has the last say, he's right, you're wrong...that's the kind of attitude that got me into an abusive marriage. I will not detail the horrors of that marraige here but I ended up with PTSD from it, have cut my wrists over that and when I've seen my dad and mom get into fights, been in the psych unit 10 (yes 10) times because of this shit. *CLICK*

I've been in therapy for over three years now and there ain't NO man gonna tell this girl what's what! I don't care if you're my father or a stranger on the street I WILL stand up to you, whether for me, or another woman I see. I don't play! Whoa...I had to take a break for a second there, I got all worked up and angry again; had to watch the birds to calm down.

[Violette]

Wow, so many times I shook my head as a child. I was raised in a house with mostly boys. I was raised *to be a girl*. I was responsible for most of the house work. I had a different set of rules I had to live by (much more restrictive). I was told that if I wanted to go to college, it would not be paid for (and my father said he wouldn't co-sign loans)...I remember my mom saying that she would never go to a female doctor...the list goes on and on.

I had several jobs to work my way through college. I remember one disgusting guy sexually harassing me and thinking to myself: 1. What a shit head, 2. I deserve better than this, and 3. It dawned on my how much I undervalued myself as a woman, person, worker, human being. I knew something had to change.

When I finally worked my way to university, I became very active in our women's center. I loved that setting. So, I guess it took something disgusting to make it finally click for me. I know I cam to the party a bit late because of how I was raised. Thank goodness something inside of me told me I was of value. It has taken many years of therapy to really know how valuable I am...and still sometimes I forget, but only momentarily.

[Violette]

Originally Posted by Starbuck

Growing up I followed in the footsteps of my mother, the man brings home the bacon, you're a housewife, he has the last say, he's right, you're wrong...that's the kind of attitude that got me into an abusive marriage. I will not detail the horrors of that marraige here but I ended up with PTSD from it, have cut my wrists over that and when I've seen my dad and mom get into fights, been in the psych unit 10 (yes 10) times because of this shit. *CLICK*

I've been in therapy for over three years now and there ain't NO man gonna tell this girl what's what! I don't care if you're my father or a stranger on the street I WILL stand up to you, whether for me, or another woman I see. I don't play! Whoa...I had to take a break for a second there, I got all worked up and angry again; had to watch the birds to calm down.

Well done, you!! You are walking a brave walk!

[ScandalAndy]

I was in first grade (7 years old) when I had my moment. There was a boy in my class who was the only person who could keep up with me academically. We wrote our second grade play together (it was about dinosaurs and a time machine, and a bunch of child archaeologists), had friendly competitions / discussions regarding schoolwork, and interviewed for the gifted school at the same time. I told my parents I was going to marry that particular boy because he was named "Jesse Anderson", and that way I would never have to change my last name.

There has always been a part of me that knew I could never capitulate to patriarchal restrictions on my life.