Then I went home and Facebook immediately reminded me why I never actually attend feminism-oriented events, though I support them in theory: Status update - 'If you don't agree with feminism, then you should lose your right to [fill in a bunch of stuff here].' (paraphrased)
You couldn't launch me onto my high horse faster without help from the Mythbusters team. That, up there, is the crux of every single varied-decibel match I've ever had with a feminist...and I've had a lot. I think I might be alive right now because SUNY New Paltz FMLA couldn't afford to take a hit out on me.
If you can't see the irony in a feminist telling other women that they should lose their rights if they don't mindlessly agree, then you need an emergency room visit for chronic mental anemia. This isn't the first time I've run into the attitude, though. It's not even the 6th. Somewhere in third-generation feminism, every chick with an ax to grind decided she was the personal representation of feminism, and disagreeing with her is exactly the same as stabbing Susan B. Anthony in the back. (After saving Hitler with your time machine, I can only assume.)
It started with paintball club. Rather, we didn't have one, and someone decided to start one. Except FMLA stepped forward to argue that they shouldn't be allowed to form, because some dudes at some other college shot some women with paintball guns at some point in time. Paintball is, therefor, obviously anti-woman. The paintball rep stated they had a girl in the club - and they had to produce me as proof - in order to be approved.
Then I had to take a Woman's class for a pre-req. The professor, who defined the gender by a collection of shared flaws, weaknesses, and traumas, culminated the class by asking us to dump our boyfriends for our final project. I had to tell her I was a future FTM to pass.
I had a girlfriend who, after repeatedly calling me a 'bad lesbian' for not listening to certain bands or having seen certain movies, and refusing to believe that I was bisexual, yo, for realz, finally concluded I was a gender traitor.
I've had countless arguments on the topic of what I 'should' be wearing, who I 'should' be listening to, what my vote 'should' be, and how I'm betraying an entire force of history by not falling into auto-lockstep. Someone even managed to say, with a straight face, that I would be a great feminist if I would just stop arguing all the time, and put my faith in womyn. I've also been stuffed in lockers, beat up, gossiped about, told to sit down, shut up, be quiet, or stop reaching for what I want, and a woman has been at the other end every time. I do have good female friends, don't get me wrong, but bitches ain't shit till they establish some cred in these here parts.
It doesn't matter to me who is at the other end of "Sit down, shut up". 'But I'm a feminist!' is not a magic spell that will stop my reaction, which is fairly succinct.
Piss.
Off.
Feminism is not an esoteric sphere that exists outside of human experience. It's a political movement at it's heart: Feminism is made of people identifying as feminists, and these are the people I run into, over and over and over. I can't wave them away with a wand and say, "They're not real feminists, so it doesn't count!" One, maybe. But they are legion, and I can't just summarily discount 30-odd extremist encounters in less than 5 years. Something in the subculture of the movement is spawning these people, and then they end up in positions of leadership. Pushing agendas I may or may not agree with. Taking media at it's word...or taking it way too far. And regularly becoming judgmental and divisive. Demanding the whole thing be taken as one pill - all 100-odd years of it - to swallow or reject wholesale? I don't buy it. And that, in a nutshell*, is my problem with the movement today.
In conclusion, I'm still considering the fair - I'm not going to write it off just because of repeated bad experiences - but Valium could feature in my marketing plan. And with all these bad examples of feminists gone wrong, may I please draw your attention to my new favorite style/fem power place on the 'net?
http://rookiemag.com/
Blessed Be,
Pennanti
*The fairytale nutshell, obviously - the sort that's big enough to fit dresses and castles and small laughing dogs.
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