From A Womyn’s Ecdysis:

There is no current US Women’s Movement. There is no US Feminist Movement. What is it that we face? The face of the US movementS change with community and by geography. It changes with all the things that make up the intersection of intersectionality. It is no wonder so much argument and fighting occurs – so many women believe their agenda is the most important. Intersectionality is the tool to help you clarify the dynamic of your own kyriarchal oppression and ALSO to equip yourself to ultimately CHOOSE how to resist. Understanding intersectionality has become the limbo for US media-driven feminists. We wait there until we “get it.”

The danger of intersectionality is that it is often mixed in as an objective of US feminism, not a tool of alliance work or consciousness-raising. It’s a method, not a goal. The perception is that we can’t move forward until we understand the condition of Asian Americans, or disabled womyn, or Black lesbian and queer activists. That is not intersectionality, that is stupidity. There is and should not be One Movement for US womyn because we are as diverse in need as we are in faith, values, and life exposure. Intersectionality is a TOOL, nothing more. We are to first understand ourselves in the context of a kyriarchal system before we can critically understand the condition of other womyn. It’s not oppression olympics, it’s humbling self-decentering. My own story is significant. It is sacred. In studying my own life’s meaning, I uncover the stories of others whose own lives are also significant and sacred. Holding both is not giving up my own power or agenda. Recognizing other lives and individuals and populations does not negate or change the course of my struggle. It enriches it with the power of knowledge, alliance, and shared hope.

I’ve learned that I can carefully be an advocate for womyn’s liberation, but I must fight and live with chosen direction and purpose to truly impact my own community.

There must be action. There must be a statement

Yes.
We don’t all have to fight for the same thing. There doesn’t need to be One Cause that we all fight for. We should all be fighting for what is important to us in our little corner of the world, with other people that think that is important too.

For example, I don’t give a fig about Michfest. OMG, yes I said it!
I don’t care that women aren’t being allowed into Michfest just cos they aren’t ‘womyn-born-womyn’.
You see, Michfest happens in another country. A country to which I have never been, will hopefully never have to go. It is a music festival, to which I have never been, and will never go to. I don’t know anyone who has been, or will go, or would even want to go there.

What I care about is HREOC’s Gender Diversity Project. My t-boy groups BBQ’s, lunches, and dinners. Making a float for Mardi Gras. Hanging out with the local trans community. Making sure people aren’t giving me and my friends shit for being who we are. Making sure that those lesbians I know at Uni can get married some day, and have a honeymoon like they’ve been dreaming of.
These are causes that are important to me. I only have so much energy, so much time, so much to give. If anyone comes to me and asks for a concrete instance of help… a donation, a signature, help them paint a banner, write a letter to a member. I will help if I have the smallest sympathy for their cause.
However, my schedule is full. I learn, I try to understand, I try to be aware. I try to tread lightly, and I ensure that fighting for my rights does not lead to the degradation of another minorities rights… however, there are some things that I just don’t care about.
Michfest is one of them.
Solidarity does not mean that I have to lay down my interests and causes and fight only for the One True Cause. It means that we should do our best to ensure our battles aren’t railroading the battles of other groups will less power than us.

I have an acquaintance who’s attitude to people always bugs me. I haven’t been able to figure out exactly why he bugs me so; after all, he isn’t really sexist, or racist, or homophobic. Yet, he still bugs me.

I figured it out this morning on the bus to work.

He is hideously CLASSIST.

He’s a nice, straight, white, middle class boy, with rather leftist views. He reminds me sometimes of the boy in Moulin Rouge, with his romanticised perspective on life. I find his attempts at cynicism vaguely irritating actually, because he is such a hopeless romantic.

He is quite aware of his sexism, and his homophobia, and makes a really worthy effort of eradicating those prejudices. I admire his willingness to ‘check his privilege’ in those areas, and accept a tongue lashing when he’s being a tool.

However, he still says things that rub me up the wrong way. Although he expects humanity from men in general, what can be expected from a truck driver/construction worker/ tradesman? He finds it difficult to find dates in Canberra, cos we are such a ‘bogan’ city. (For any american readers, ‘bogan’ is Australian slang for working class, or unrefined… the reality which Kath and Kim is modeled off)

Sometimes I suppose he musn’t have twigged about my background as the offspring of a single mother, one of those ‘welfare queens’, or he probably wouldn’t speak to me so often.

I think that classism is quite an insidious prejudice. I tell my fair share of bogan jokes, but I also know that ever level of Australian society has its own value, and you cannot disregard someone as worthless merely because they appear to be from a different social class.

Myself, I blend in as pretty much perfectly middle class these days. I am in fact, significantly more educated than the average Australian. Even though I may be ‘broke’, I will never again be poor, and there is a tangible difference between the two.

I love the luxury that I live in. Whenever I am really feeling the financial pinch, I vow to get rich, but my interest in that wanes once I hit financial equilibrium again.

I think that is why some of my friends are so disdainful of my desire for wealth. If you haven’t ever been really *desperate*, then one tends to be able to live by romanticised notions about what is true and noble. Who cares how much you are earning, if you could do something you *love*?

Me, I am terribly concerned about the amount I am earning. I can love anything if its paying me well enough.

My only remaining childhood friend understands. We both grew up ‘poor’. We didn’t have new clothes, we didn’t have enough food, we didn’t have this or that or the other. 

I have never handled a graphical calculator, even though I did the highest level of math at my high school. My nice middle class friends all OWNED graphical calculators. I didn’t have internet access at home. I didn’t get piano lessons, or get to play tennis, or any other sport. (I didn’t even get to play many school sports beyond primary school, I was limited to the ‘free’ sports… soccer, and power walking) Going overseas on exchange was out of the question. My brother might not be a criminal now if my mother could have continued to justify spending hundreds of dollars on schizophrenia medication.

Paul and I, we have a shared dream, to be rich. Last time we discussed this I pointed out that even if we were broke or hungry again, it didn’t matter… we still wouldn’t be poor. He’s most of the way through his medical degree, I have a job as an IT Specialist. Most importantly though, we are educated. We have the social resources to call upon, to ‘blend in’. 

I can be an attractive young lady. If I felt the desire to sell my soul, I could in fact, schmooze some fellow with money, play the patriarchal “You pay for it dear” card, and deal with my money problems that way.

Well, I probably couldn’t do it in Canberra, having been asked on a date by a young gentleman from the ‘wealthy young people’ type set. I unfortunately didn’t realise it was a date, I thought that he wanted to be friends. Anyway, the evening ended in disaster when my feminist sensibilities got me into an argument with him. My reputation for being a ‘complete weirdo’ has no doubt spread since then.

Just a note on that… those people? They are really really fucked up! It was a group thing, and so I got to observe Rich Snobs in their native habitat, first hand, for the first time in my life. Can I just say, the patriarchy is ALIVE AND WELL there.

Also, I have never been so aware of my gender/sex conflict, as standing there amongst fashionably attired young ladies, who were all vying to be the cutest/prettiest/sexiest.

Frankly, selling my soul for security isn’t something I am willing to try. After all, I tried it with my ex-fiance, and he didn’t really pay off. I have a new plan for getting rich, since discovering feminism. Instead of marrying a ‘good catch’, I shall BECOME a ‘good catch’.

Its much more reliable, and a lot more fun. (Going along to HIS work functions, doing the cute, attentive, *sober* girlfriend thing? YUK.)

I just realised. I’m classist too… just against the top end of the scale, instead of the bottom end…

So I spent my New Years Eve reading Man Made Language, and Full Frontal Feminism. (I really must get around to reading some of the negative opinions of Full Frontal Feminism, cos I didn’t see much of a problem with it… but then, that is probably my white privilege showing)

This is the sort of dorky behaviour that got me labelled a ‘Square’ in high school. Alas, I have never been cool. 

Anyway, I was thinking, as I read Full Frontal Feminism, that I wish I had discovered feminism when I was in High School. I read Kaz Cook’s ‘Real Gorgeous’ and loved it, and a bunch of stuff on gender, and was generally a smart cookie, so I kinda guessed that I was onto something. It would have been nice to have the reassurance that I was right, though. 

I was battling day in and day out. 

I remember arguing that the Bible wasn’t fair to women, but I was always shot down. 

Why is Adultery was the only divorce-worthy sin? What if my husband never cheated on me, but beats me every day?

“Well, thats why you marry a good Christian man. He wont hit you.”

Why does it say that a wife should obey her husband, but not the other way around? What if I know better?

“One member of a partnership has to be able to make the final decision. Besides, your husband will love you, and want what’s best for you”

What if I am a lesbian? What if I keep liking girls?

“Ha ha ha… Oh, you have such a track record with boys, we don’t need to fear that.”

(My ‘track record with boys’ was two boyfriends… I had quite a ‘reputation’)

When I came up with solid examples of these ideas gone dreadfully wrong, I was dismissed, and it was pointed out that the parties involved weren’t 100% Christian, or were living in sin.

Because the woman that was being beaten by her non-Christian husband shouldn’t have married a non-Christian! Silly woman!

I was so confused, had so many questions, but no one paid me heed. Eventually to deal with the cognitive dissonance I threw myself into religion to such an extent, I just blocked out the conflicting information. I went through a period of being intensely pro-life, and anti-feminist. I figured I would just grow up, get married, and that would be that.

Damn it, why was it going to take Paul so long to graduate Medicine? 

(See, I even had me a good Christian doctor to marry. We would probably be missionaries together, or something)

It will probably come as a great surprise to many of you reading this, that I actually planned on going to Bible College to study teaching. In preparation for my missionary-wife days, you see. I giggle when I think of it now.

Everything has changed.

Its happened step by step.

This is the handy 10-step map of my change from Good Christian Girl, to jumped up Trannie Feminist. I wrote it partially in l33t, cos I feel like a w4nk0r tonight.

1. No Babies. Not now. Not EV4. This womb be BARREN.

(No one actually believed me, even after I had stuck to that line for more than two years)

2. OMG Feminism is TEH WIN! I’ve been such a n00b!

3. Oh… my boyfriend is a dickhead. Maybe I wont marry him even though we’ve been living in sin. DUMPZORS

4. Wow. Girls are made of win! I still think so, after all this time. Maybe I am bisexual after all?

6. I am so not ever getting married. Ever. EVER.

7.  Hmph. Girls are REALLY awesome. I’m such a dyke. LOLZ

8. WHADDYAMEENICUDTRANSITION??????

9. OMG OMG OMG I COULD TRANSITION

10. So am I a dyke, or a straight man?

Hat tip to Samhita at Feministing for this one.

I laughed my arse off watching this. I think that I found it even more amusing, because it kinda reminded me a bit of my current relationship.

EDIT: I fail at posting Video’s… here’s a link to the original, if its not showing up

At the moment there is a massive amount of controversy in the feminist blogosphere surrounding a book by Robert Jensen, called “Getting Off: Pornography and the End of Masculinity”. I have not read the book yet, and so I cannot really pass judgment on it for itself. Much of the commentary surrounding it has been absolutely fascinating, and many of the comments threads have been as informative and interesting as the articles themselves.

I first heard of the book when Courtney at Feministing reviewed it in a Not Oprah’s Book Club post. Courtney concludes that she needs to think about and analyse her position on pornography before coming to a final decision, but that she feels that Jensen’s writing was “reeking with self hate and desperation” although he made valuable points.

Amanda Marcotte at Pandagon also reviewed the book, putting more focus on the concept of masculinity, and what ending this really means for men, rather than just on pornography. She agrees with Jensen that pornography is deeply misogynist, but she says that she thought he was a little unfair to the diverse variety of men that watch pornography.

Hugo disputes Courtney’s interpretation of Jensen’s ’self-hatred’ in a rebuttal post, and again in a the second part of a three part series of posts that he published on the book. He also disagrees with Amanda’s idea that the book is too hard on men.

It seems that both Courtney and Amanda Marcotte took a more sympathetic view of men that use pornography than does either Jensen or Hugo. I find this gender division really interesting, and in some ways disturbing, especially in light of Hugo’s first post in his series on this book, and Jensen’s own statements that are along the lines of both men and women are fooling themselves in regards to misogyny and pornography, because it is uncomfortable to think about it in such raw and honest terms.

I would really recommend reading all the posts, in particular Hugo’s. I cried after reading Hugo’s posts. I haven’t yet formulated an opinion, having not actually read the book, I don’t feel inclined to pass judgement on it, but I think that the idea’s expressed in the debate surrounding the book all have merit, and that this sort of discussion of pornography is really needed in our society.

A friend commented to me that other day, that just like brands show the ownership of cattle, getting a tattoo can show that a person feels they own themselves. This idea made a lot of sense to me. It also made me realise that is probably why so many people have issues with women getting tattoo’s beyond any distaste they may have for tattoo’s on men. Society hasn’t quite come to grips with women owning themselves yet.

I have been thinking of getting a tattoo for quite some time now. The day when I actually get it done is moving closer and closer.I have finished the design for my first tatt. It’s below the fold.

I chose the Australian Brushtail Possum as the subject for this design for a couple of reasons. The Brushtail Possum is a furry marsupial, but it is also brave, mischievous, and curious. They are not dreadfully popular around here, as cute as they are. They eat people’s roses, cause house fires by nesting in roofs, make loud possum-love-making noises, and generally remind people that we are invading their natural habitat, and if they can’t nest in a tree, they will nest in a house, and keep us awake all night long.

I feel like I am metamorphosing into a new person… a person somewhat more like the possum. It’s not making me very popular, but its certainly a lot more fun.The design is deliberately abstract and tribal, mostly because I like that style of tattoo, but also because my love of possums has more to do with what they symbolise for me, than the actual marsupial.

I want to get a bogone moth design as well. I am still working on that one. The bogone moth is a large native Australian moth. They migrate in big swarms every few years. They can grow as big as the palm of my hand. I love them, because they are soft and grey and beautiful.
Most people don’t see eye to eye with me on that one. Lots of people are afraid of them, and the rest tend to see them as an annoyance.

I really identify with moths, even more so than possums. Like a moth emerging from my cocoon I have changed so much this past year. Moths fly for the light, even though it may get them burned or killed, which on a symbolic level is what I would like to do. Also, like the moths that are feared in spite of their harmlessness, and beneficial impact on the ecosystem, feminists are also feared and despised.

I drew a goanna tattoo design as well, but the goanna isn’t really that symbolic for me. I just like lizard shapes.

There are a few things I have come across in the last few days that I don’t have time to comment on, but think are well worth looking at.
Just imagine me imparting some pearls of wisdom in regards to the following:

Finally, a scientific study that shows why feminists are ‘humourless’. We have right to be, when the humour is sexist.

According to the news, being a lesbian is bad for our health. Maybe being the part of any persecuted minority is bad for our health? After all, non-gender conforming youth have a suicide rate approaching 50%.

US-centric, but am I the only one that finds the recent spate of homophobic ’straight’ American politicians arrested for public homo-sex amusing? Especially when their supporters say shit like this.

This last one, I don’t think needs and commentary from me. Go read it, beloved minions. Just go read it.

There is a fabulous post about Feminist Identification over at Feministe from their wonderful guest blogger, La Lubu.

She has a comprehensive list of ways in which she feels a disconnect from the feminist movement, and it got me to thinking about my own identity, and ways in which I overlap with the feminist movement, and other ways in which I feel alienated from mainstream feminism.

I have privileges. I am white, and able-bodied. I conform to a mainstream beauty standard. I am relatively educated, and so have a greater economic and class mobility than average. Parts of the mainstream feminist movement that mean a lot to me include area’s relating to my career in business, reclaiming my sexuality, and fighting against sexual violence. I have the privilege of not needing to worry about various issues, such as the rights of the disabled, the very young, the very old, people of colour, including Indigenous peoples and immigrants, the very poor, the homeless, the ill-educated.

I feel myself growing more aware of the marginilisation of the minorities I belong to as time goes on. I am queer. I am pagan. I have a mental illness.
In turn it makes me eager to address issues that I have the privilege of ignoring, that I can leave invisible if I so desire, in empathy for those times when I wonder “What about lesbians?” in response to a post.

Here are the area’s of feminism that I would like to see more focus on in my blogging, because if I don’t… who will?

Links to blogs that deal with these issues are more than welcome in the comments, cos I am always after more information!
Of course, this is not an exhaustive list, but simply three area’s that I am interested in focussing on for the foreseeable future. I will also continue blogging about sexual violence, the representation of women in comics and pop culture media, and other issues that Cheerful Megalomaniac is known for covering, this is just a reminder to me to cover things that are of great interest to me, but that I tend to neglect because information is a little harder to locate… after all, these are issues marginalised by the mainstream feminist community.

This post is also a call out to anyone that feels marginalised or invisible in response to a post. Call me on it. Make me see when I have neglected to address how you may be effected by the issue being discussed.

Reclaim the Night was awesome!

It was pouring down rain, and so I was worried that no one would show up, but lots of people still came! I have many bad photo’s saved to my 2MP mobile phone, but thankfully Amanda has kindly agreed to let me have a copy of the photo’s she took with her much more impressive digital camera. I will create a photogallery and link to it from here.

Unfortunately the only name that I can actually remember from the panel of speakers is Kate Lundy’s. The panel was interviewed by someone from the ABC. An actress apparently, but unsurprisingly (given I don’t watch television) I didn’t recognise her. There was an Aboriginal Artist, a Islamic Studies researcher from the ANU, and the head of the Youth Coalition there too. I was really impressed by the artists words regarding recent interventions in the Aboriginal communities in central Australia. I felt she was the charismatic speaker, and found myself nodding along with everything she said. The other speakers were very good as well, although not nearly as memorable.

The march was great. The police accompanied us, and there was quite a lot of bystanders watching us. I was amused to see a guy trying to block his girlfriends view of the march. I watched them as I passed, with her trying to see around him, and him standing in her way, and trying to distract her attention. It made me extremely curious, and wondered what their story was.

Over all, a fabulous night. I made new friends, which always pleases my social little soul, and enjoyed myself greatly.