what does feminism look like today?

In its formative days (in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, and then in the 1960s and ‘70s), feminism was, above all, about promoting equal social and political citizenship for women. Contemporary feminism – the “third wave” – is, like today’s world, far more complex than its predecessors. It’s not just about equality anymore (though this is and always will be an issue). To me, today’s feminism is less about getting equal pay and spouting catchy phrases (“down with the patriarchy!”) and more about fostering a world in which women, men, and transgendered people all have the opportunity to live healthy, happy lives as whole and fully valued human beings. To me, feminism is about turning current concepts of gender, sexuality, rape, and more completely on their heads. I could spew statistics galore about unequal pay, but the fact of the matter is that inequality is only one piece of this massive, multifaceted puzzle.

Give me a world where rape (not only of women, but of men, children, and transgendered people) is obsolete, and I’ll show you a world where feminism isn’t needed.

Give me a world where ze and hir are as common and widespread as he/she and him/her, and I’ll show you a world where feminism isn’t needed.

Give me a world where women and girls are valued primarily for their intelligence, humanity, and personalities rather than their physical attributes, a world where sex trafficking doesn’t exist, a world where politicians don’t bicker about what a woman can and can’t do with her body, where music about raping and killing women isn’t popular or mainstream (such as Eminem’s album Relapse, which sold over half a million copies just upon its release and contains the lyrics: “whore you’re the kinda girl that I’d assault and rape and figure why not…”), a world where sexual violence isn’t sexy, where young girls aren’t taught that in order to be a “pure”, happy, healthy member of society, they must jealously guard their virginity, a world where sexually active women aren’t called “hos”, “sluts”, “whores”, or any other multitude of demeaning and dehumanizing names, but rather are considered to be normal and healthy human beings.

We need more than systematically defined equality. We need a world where men and women aren’t forced into constrictive, harmful, and untrue sexual stereotypes such as the passive woman lacking in sexual desire (and thus needing to be convinced or coerced into sexual activity) and the man who is predatory and hypersexual. Let’s build a world where the foremost method of combating rape and rape culture isn’t telling girls and women ways to protect themselves (don’t drink too much, don’t wear anything too revealing, never go anywhere alone at night, don’t ever leave your drink alone, carry pepper spray, don’t lead men on, don’t leave your house, become a nun, et cetera) – thus preemptively placing the burden on potential victims – but a new paradigm where men and boys are instilled with the values of healthy sexual relationships and taught to view women as human beings who are sexual creatures, as are all human beings. (This is opposed to the current images of sex in popular culture, in which sex is portrayed as a commodity, something that women “have” and men must obtain through force or some other non-mutual, unilateral action.)

Give me a world where all these things are true, and I’ll give you a world where “feminism” is a thing of the past.

I love music. From Tchaikovsky to T-Pain, my iPod has it all. I also love to sing. I’m not all that good at it, and my off-key crooning is usually confined to my shower or car, but nevertheless I enjoy it. It puts me in a good mood.

On my way home this afternoon, I was listening to my usual pre-set pop radio station when a relatively new song called Extraterrestrial by Katy Perry and Kanye West came on. I’d heard it before, but never paid much attention to anything other than the catchy beat. It wasn’t until today that I realized what the lyrics were actually saying. For those of you who aren’t fans of top-40 radio, here’s a partial transcript. You can also listen to the song here.

“They say be afraid
You’re not like the others
Futuristic lover
Different DNA
They don’t understand you

Your from a whole other world
A different dimension
You open my eyes
And I’m ready to go
Lead me into the light

Kiss me, ki-ki-kiss me
Infect me with your love and
Fill me with your poison

Take me, ta-ta-take me
Wanna be a victim
Ready for abduction

Boy, you’re an alien
Your touch are foreign
It’s supernatural
Extraterrestrial”

Infect me with your poison? I wanna be a victim? Really?

Of course misogynistic lyrics are nothing new – women have been objectified and called “bitches” and “hos” in rap lyrics for years, but what I find most disturbing about this particular set of lyrics is that a woman is actively and with conviction insisting she wants to be a victim. A victim of what, you might ask? Well, perhaps I’m reading a bit too much into this, but it sounds eerily like the articulation of a female rape fantasy played out in lyrical form.

Ms. Perry recently admitted to the British tabloid OK! she has no desire to be a role model and would prefer kids look up to girls like (*gag, choke, vomit in mouth*) Miley Cyrus.

You have GOT to be kidding me.

Too bad she doesn’t really have a choice in the matter. She’s a role model (albeit not a very good one) whether she wants to be or not, and she should know better than to think she’s not culpable just by saying she doesn’t want to be. Shame on you, Katy.

Songs like “Extraterrestrial” and Rhianna’s “S&M”, where the songstress states “the pain is my pleasure” and describes how excited she becomes by whips and chains (surprising given the brutal and widely publicized beating she received from ex-boyfriend Chris Brown), leave me wondering what a conscientious feminist is supposed to do? Can I like these songs and still claim to be fighting patriarchy? Can I sing along without compromising the part of myself that hates the message the lyrics are promoting? Of these things I’m not sure. But what I am sure of is that my daughter won’t be listening to them.

These women know they are influential. They know their lyrics reach millions of teen girls and young women on a daily, if not hourly, basis. They also base their entire careers on the notion that the cultural products they produce will resonate with people, and Rhianna has experienced first hand one of the ugly and painful products of patriarchy. So why on earth are they loudly and proudly proclaiming their desires to be brutalized by men?!

Perhaps they don’t claim to be feminists, and that’s perfectly fine, even appropriate given the content of their music, but that doesn’t get them off the hook when it comes to promoting violence toward women. We’ve come to expect it from many male artists in the popular music industry (i.e. 99% of male rappers), but I find it tragic that even a former victim of such violence now seems to be promoting it, even glamorizing it.

If Katy wants so badly to be a victim, I’m pretty sure she’s gotten her wish. She’s yet another victim of the hegemonic, patriarchal ideology that has relegated women to nothing more than objects of male sexual pleasure. I sure hope she’s happy.

Katie E also writes for Figuring out Feminism

Grinding...truly a subdued picture.

I had been at college for three days, and my friends and I were anticipating the First Chance Dance, an annual tradition meant to facilitate fun and friendship during the notoriously uncomfortable orientation process.  My dorm’s resident advisor encouraged us to go, advising that it provides “a great opportunity for sexual exploration.”  Some of my newly minted classmates obviously saw it that way; the First Chance Dance would be better described as “a room full of sweaty teenagers in varying states of sobriety engaging in fully-clothed sex on the dance floor.”  Not an exaggeration.

First of all, the “grinding” phenomenon demands a discussion.  Let’s be honest: grinding is basically simulated sex on the dance floor.  I try to be sex-positive and am generally comfortable with open expressions of sexuality.  But isn’t dry sex in a public setting, and with someone who you’ve known for less than a week, just kind of awkward?  For me, yes.  Maybe for some it’s not, but this questions leads to the broader idea of consent and its applications. 

Consent doesn’t only belong in the bedroom; consent should follow ambiguity wherever it may lead, which, in this setting, is the dance floor.  “But,” my friends object, “isn’t it super awkward to be dancing and then to suddenly be like, ‘Hey want to grind?’”  Yes, that is awkward, but wouldn’t it be easy to ask, “Is this ok?” as you move closer?  Or even to pay attention to your dance partner?  ?I recently witnessed a girl engrossed in gyrating against a fellow freshman’s groin, as he TEXTED.  I’m not implying that he wasn’t appreciative or consenting.  However, this situation clearly lacks mutual interest and communication. 

I love to dance, meet new people, and sing along to blasting music.  But when the lyrics are “Shush girl, just shut your lips…  do the Helen Keller and talk with your hips” (shudder), it’s hard to dance to the beat while completely ignoring the words and the underlying message of objectification and misogyny that they promote.  As much as I want to dance to 3OH!3 or Lady Gaga (and I do dance, despite my unease with her word choice about disco sticks), I often feel like a hypocrite at dances where I should just be enjoying myself.  I feel like a strange superhero: young feminist by day, self-objectifying dance-floor maven by night.

the good old days?

I’m wary of criticizing youth dance and music trends, because there exists a long tradition of censorship of American youth popular culture.  I’m not one of those anti-rock n’ roll fanatics à la “Footloose” who claims that the new dance styles are the devil incarnate and that our country is going to hell in a hand basket as a result of promiscuous dance floor antics.  In fact, my first week at college has indicated the opposite: overall, my classmates are a smart, articulate, generous, interesting, genuine, diverse, and empathetic group.  But imagine a dance with music that doesn’t objectify women, or music whose beat could be conducive to dancing that consists more than just simulated sex—dancing that would be more inclusive, more inviting, more energetic, and more fun. 

Ok, so maybe the DJ was just bad.  After all, his turntable did have a sign that advertised “Phat beats, skinny bitches.”  But, as many people my age would surely corroborate, the grinding trend is indicative of our overly sexualized culture that extends far beyond my college campus.

I’m looking forward to the Feminist Prom, sponsored by my school’s feminist organization.  I just wish that my friends and I, both male and female, didn’t need a special event to dance to music that doesn’t reduce us to vehicles for sex and nothing more.