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!

[*Anya*]

I had a couple of half-clicks before the full-click.

Never made sense to me as the girl child that I had to cook dinners, set the table, wash dishes, clean the house, wash the clothes, iron and my two brothers only had the take the garbage out!

Then, I got married to escape prison life only to join another. My ex-husband wanted me to wash & iron all his dress/casual shirts and hang them according to color in his closet. I asked why? Answer: "that's your job as my wife".

One day I went to the library and found a book called: "Sisterhood is Powerful". Hello!

I joined NOW, started holding Consciousness Raising groups in my livingroom, refused to accept his abuse (physical & mental) and the full-click turned in my head. Once you see-you can never unsee but nor would I ever want to be without sight again either.

[Julie]

This topic has given me much thought about how I am as a feminist and how I walk through my world. On a day to day basis, I walk among men and women. I defer to no one. I know who I am and I also know the power I wield in my world. I am a mother, who has raised 3 sons to be feminist and should they ever objectify a woman or treat her less than… I would be filled with shame.

Yet, here I am. I have had these conversations with many of my Femme sisters. Those same sisters who are strong and powerful women…. Feminist. With some of these sisters of mine, I share a similar craving. A place where I can let go of all the power I myself have created. A place where I can in fact submit and yes, be objectified by that beautiful masculine energy. To be with a partner who would never think of letting me take the garbage out – the same garbage I would take out, if I were alone.

Am I less of a feminist, when I expect my partner to fill the gas tank? Or to stand when I leave the table. To open the doors for me, and step aside as I walk in? Am I less of a feminist because I crave to dress in the most sexualizing way I can, knowing it will in fact create the exact essence I am wanting? That I might use my body to induce arousal, in a most feminizing way? I am using my body and my most seductive ways to create this.

It’s interesting to me. To be a woman who has created a great power around her, yet to be the same woman who craves one person to give it all to. To be objectified in the most delicious manner!

Is it possible to be both? (for me, I know the answer).

Am I a feminist when I know how to use my body, to sometimes get what I want? To use my wiles and manipulation… Of course, I am not fooling anyone. Those who partner with me, know I wish to be objectified. However, does this change who I am and how I demand equality and respect?

Thank you Kobi – This is an interesting conversation – One of which has given me great thought. I am curious as to how others feel. Are women in our community considered less than, because of how we might in fact choose to wear that apron with nothing on under it… While we remove the meatloaf from the oven and serve another.

[BullDog]

Great topic and great posts. I think my feminism really started in 1969 when the astronauts landed on the moon. It's funny because I was just talking about this earlier on the phone today. I can still remember watching that on a small black and white tv when I was 7 years old. I really wanted to be an astronaut. I asked my Dad (who is in no way, shape or form a feminist) if girls could be astronauts. He said yes. That made me happy and I continued to drink Tang and eat space food snacks and dream of being an astronaut, a cowboy, a writer and working at an ice cream parlor.

I grew up in a very traditional household where my mother was a housewife and father was the breadwinner and was a misogynist. However I also was given trucks instead of dolls when I asked for them, and allowed to be a tomboy and encouraged and praised for doing well in school. I grew up thinking girls could be whatever they wanted to be- girls and women having no limitations on who they are or can be- to me that is the epitome of feminism.

In response to what Julie wrote, I consider myself a feminist Dom so I certainly think a submissive woman can be a feminist and powerful as well. To me the energy exchange is one of empowerment. I have deep respect for submissives. I think it takes great strength, among other qualities, to be one. A submissive woman can be a tender hearted baby girl, a sensual, sexy woman who knows how to work her femininity to get what she wants, have a deep desire to submit and serve, and at the same time be a kick ass professional woman, mother who has raised children, and someone people constantly turn to for advice. I think a feminist submissive certainly knows the difference between dominant and domineering and makes her choice accordingly.

[princessbelle]

What a great topic Kobi!!! Great reading here and so inspiring!!!

My growing up life was like many here, due to our age i suppose. My dad was head of household but my mom always worked. She then had to keep house, take care of me and my brother as well. She had relatively no help at all from my Dad. It was just how it was in many households back then.

I can remember one of the first things that drove me crazy was the mail. The mail would come addressed to Mr and Mrs. so and so and had my dad's first name and our last name. Also, when she would talk to someone she was say i'm Mrs. (insert my dad's first name) then our last name. I can remember arguing with my mom about it when i was around 10. "Why do you do that". "Where is your identity". "Use your name". It used to drive me insane!!!!!

I've never once thought that being a woman, i should not do anything i've wanted. Not sure that came from my family though. I think it came from within me somewhere deep.

As far as being submissive and being a feminist; Just as Bulldog and Julie have said, it takes great strength to give someone your submission. If it is ever done through weakness i don't see how it would work at all. Also, the difference is...it is my CHOICE. I CHOOSE to do this, when i do it. It is not taken from me. Therefore i keep my feminist identity of power, intelligence, strength, wisdom, capabilities, and professionalism right along with me on my path as a submissive.

It's a wild ride and a great journey....

[SecretAgentMa'am]

I'm not sure I actually have a Click moment. If I do, I can't think of it. I was raised in a very religious place (Bountiful, UT - about 98% Mormon), and my mom was devout in many ways, but she never really fit the mold that I can remember. She divorced my father when I was 5 and she was still pregnant with my little sister. The church leaders told her that the divorce was entirely her fault, that my dad wouldn't cheat or hit her if she'd just be a better wife, she brought it on herself. She never believed them. One of my earliest memories was when a very, very restrictive abortion bill was before the state legislature, and my mom took me with her to the protest rally at the capitol. I think I was 6 or 7 at the time. I got a lot of conflicting messages growing up. At home, mom raised me to be a socially conscious feminist. At school and church, I got the standard messages about getting married and having babies, wives submitting to their husbands, temple marriage being the only valid choice for women, women existing to serve men. I firmly believe that it doesn't matter what kids are taught in the wider world, what they learn at home is what sticks.

[nycfem]

I grew up with my dad dominating my mom (and not in the fun way). I used to have panic attacks as I listened to him control her. When I was in high school in suburban Ohio, I found a book in my school library, a massive anthology called "Radical Feminism" published in 1973 (the year after I was born). Thank Goddess for that because it became my Bible! I was particularly intrigued by the essays on Radical Lesbianism Feminism. That is absolutely when I became a feminist, and I began seeking out as much feminist lesbian literature as I could at our local women's/lesbian bookstore, in the "bad" part of town, a wonderful place that no longer exists called "Crazy Ladies."

When I got to college, I remember I'd even introduce myself by saying, "I'm Jennifer, and I'm a radical lesbian feminist." I was fiercely taken by this whole way of thinking and being that was so different than what I saw in my house, my school, and in my community growing up. In college I set up an independent study with a lesbian feminist professor on Lesbian Separatism. I read as much as I could about wimmin's land and the whole radically matriarchal way of life. I was so empowered by what felt like wholly undiluted feminism.

As I got older, I parted ways with a number of aspects of 1970's radical lesbian feminism, particularly with separatism. Butch/Femme was not universally accepted (though it was in some circles), nor was BDSM or bisexuality or trans politics. Because of this, separatist politics became much too narrow for me to fully subscribe to, but I am still thankful for what I learned in this movement. 1970's radical lesbian feminism opened up a whole world to me, and still informs my perspective to this day.

[The_Lady_Snow]

OMG Jennifer I love loved Crazy Ladies!!! I bartended a few times for Donna @ Bullfishes and hung out at The Serpent!!!

Upstairs Crazy Ladies had ledgers filled with tri-state lesbian herstory!!!


Small world it is we live in!

[Kätzchen]

I want to say that I must have been born into feminist ways because there are a cajillion family photographs capturing my look of objecting to male power, control and privilige in my own family.

It wasn't until I learned in covert ways about a lesbian couple - not out, back in the days of the early 60s: they both taught at a private college in a nearby town where our family worshipped together in the same church and we used to go help them take care of their property. Somehow, both women must have identified me as being 'family'. They weren't out because it would have cost them their ability to earn a living and damage their hard-won reputation as professors. It wasn't until much later in life when one of the women (having survived the death of her long time lover and partner) entered into a facility where my mother was a director of nursing. My mother was giving me a tour of the facility and she was a resident of that nursing home (this was years ago) and made the comment that she (the woman we knew for years) would not recognize me, but she did! She took me aside and "never give up your power, ever."

I'll never forget her or her partner who nurtured me privately for years.

[AtLast]

I was pretty young, about8 or 9. It was when my maternal Grandmother met my Grandpa at the door as he completed his last day of his working life. She (a "First Wave" suffragist that worked for the women's right to vote in the 1920's) untied her apron and tossed it over to him and said (in very broken English)- "I'm retired too." From then on he cooked and cleaned the house and she worked in the yard and garden. Actually, this worked out well as he was the better of the cook and she had one hell of a green thumb. Besides, I grew up in an extended family and we all had specific duties and chores as a family unit. And we all contributed to the "family." I kind of feel like my roots were pretty feminist with this kind of cultural and ethnic background. We all worked in some form in the family business as it progressed- I picked up garbage cans along side my Dad and brother in the early days when he started out.

[Soft*Silver]

my two male cousins and I were around the same age. We did everything together! We hiked in the woods, hung from trees, waded in creeks, etc. Then one summer..dammit...when I threw off my shirt because it was too hot, I got scolded. I was a girl. SO WHAT? I was a girl the years before that and I was allowed to take off my shirt. But now, suddenly, I was not. Pffffttt on that social taboo! The moment that really clicked for me, tho was when they got bows and arrows for xmas. And I did not. I got a white cardigan sweater. The year before we got canteens and helmets with flaslights on them! And this year I get a cardigan????

I should have grown up butch but I love my silk and lace and make up! LOL...

oh, and to Ms Snow...how about Fan the Flames?

[CherylNYC]

I was 6 years old and watching the Flintstones on TV. It was 1968. I remember suddenly becoming enraged at the rigid gender roles that were portrayed, and I instantly decided to boycott the show. In that crystal clear moment I understood that the television was promoting and enforcing oppression of women, and that people who watched it would learn by watching that the way the cartoon characters were acting was the 'right way' to act. I never forgot that moment. I still don't have or watch television.

My father had a lot invested in convincing me that men were just better at certain things. I remember him telling me how embarrassing Billie Jean King's showing was in her match with Bobby Riggs. He told me that it proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that men were superior. Later I found out that she beat him handily in straight sets. My father was so vehement in his negativity that I was sure she must have lost!

My mother claimed to be a feminist and told my sister and I that we could be anything we wanted. We were expected to go to college and become professionals in some respectable field at which we would most certainly excel. (Being an artist does NOT count as respectable.) At the same time, she told us that if we wanted to go to college we would have to get scholarships. They would find the money to send my brother to college. Unlike us, he would have to support a family, after all. You can imagine my fury. My mother told me that she was a feminist, BUT....

[Jess]

Second grade. I had joined the Brownies. It was about half way or a little more through the school year when we got our uniforms and were to wear them to school for a meeting immediately after school was out.

Kevin, a boy in my class who I usually played basketball/ kickball whatever with, walks up to me when I arrived in my uniform ( mind you, I had shorts on under it) and yells mockingly: " You Got a GIRLS dress on". I punched him in the face explaining quite vehemently that " I AM a girl!". Short trip to principal's office and I came back quite entrenched in feminism.

[lettertodaddy]

I don't mean this to sound confrontational at all, but I'm a black woman who grew up in the South and I came from a long line of Black Southern women. I don't think I've ever not been a feminist for those reasons.