New Project: Chapter 5
Five
Equality requires three things: Liberty, empathy, and economic autonomy. When single, I controlled my finances, moved easily and freely in society, and surrounded myself with people empathetic to my situation as a single mom, artist, and business woman. Equality wasn’t something I sought. It was my privilege as a daughter of second-wave feminists and, as such, I seldom gave it a second thought.
That changed when Steve and I merged households. Slowly, like water seeping through a crack, all three components disappeared and my sense of self evaporated. I never saw it coming (and would never have admitted I was responsible in part) because everything I did, including reducing myself to a needy, weeping pulp, I did for love.
It began almost at once. Early in our relationship, I had been invited to participate in a prestigious art show by the director himself. Steve offered to join me in La Jolla for the weekend, help out at the show, and keep me company at night.
The day after we arrived, we went to set up my booth in a hot, asphalt parking lot. The director came over with a packet for me that delineated rules, emergency procedures, and the regular rigmarole. Although he knew me, something in his makeup required him to give the packet to Steve. Had Steve not been there, everything would have been fine. Instead, a comedy ensued that demonstrated my place in the world had declined. Silently, Steve refused the proffered packet. The director withdrew his hand. Small talk continued. The director tried again. His hand went up. Steve pantomimed and then pulled back. This went on until beads of sweat popped out on the director’s forehead and his underarms went dark.
Finally, tired of the game, Steve grinned. “I’m just the boyfriend. You should give that to her,” he said. The director looked at me as if for the first time. He shook his head, thrust the packet at me, and took off with few words.
Here’s what’s amazing about this event. Not once during the entire exchange did I say anything. I didn’t step in and take the packet from that poor man. Instead, I let my boyfriend have his fun. Equality could have been mine, but because I was no longer single I relinquished it. I did this unconsciously, naturally, and gracefully. Instead of making my presence felt, I remained statue-like.
Much of the male oppression that exists today exists because women allow and encourage it. They do it in a thousand tiny ways a thousand times a day all over this nation. Women are not equal because they continue to mimic behavior that no longer serves, even when they know better.
Some readers may be incensed at my words. They might cite advertising and media that reinforce systemic cultural norms, social and economic disadvantages, and fear generators as reasons for women’s behavior and they wouldn’t be wrong. However, once one has become aware of a destructive behavior and does nothing to change it, they become part of the problem. For generations, women’s survival depended on their subservience. For women in the 21st century, subservience is moral and metaphysical suicide.
In this country, three women a day are killed by men who they love or once loved. A rape happens every ninety seconds. Women are still paid less than men in most markets. They do the vast majority of housework and childrearing, even when they also work fulltime outside the home. They are sexualized, marginalized, and idolized all at the same time. Many have given up hope.
New legislation helps. Courts that strengthen existing legislation help. School programs can help. And yet, none of these efforts will succeed as long as women continue to see themselves as victims of a social and economic system that does things to them.
The current feminist narrative runs like this: Rapists rape. Men mansplain. Old white men control the system. The war on women is real and is a backlash against female autonomy and independence. If something awful happens to a woman, it is never her fault. Intersectional awareness and inclusion policy will create solidarity. Discrimination is real and we have to fight for what we want.
Except we don’t. Outside feminist blogs, books, and classrooms, many women go along to get along because, damn it, life’s hard. And there’s nothing wrong with that. Like people the world over, they just want food on the table, a roof over their heads, to love and be loved.
If the world weren’t in danger, if the fabric of our society wouldn’t tear, if the global climate crisis wasn’t threatening our very existence, there might not be reason to change anything, but right now we’re at the precipice. Women are the last great hope and everything is at stake. When we are willing to look that in the face, take the responsibility our liberty requires, and embrace the very femininity the world works so hard to control or erase we will have a shot at equality and Amazing Grace, but first we must learn to give an entirely different way.
