Here We Are: Feminism for the Real World

by Kelly Jensen

The role of the artist in society is to hold up a mirror. We’ll stop writing about rape when rapists stop sexually assaulting people.

“Their art becomes more than armor for them. It becomes identity.” Art helps us process emotions and experiences before we can find the words.

Art (visual, music, literature, dance) is a healthy form of armor because it creates in the soul the opportunity for growth and transformation.

When teens don’t have access to art (I’m looking at you, budget-cutting school boards and state governments), they turn to unhealthy armor, like drugs and booze; anything to diminish the confusion and pain.

We live in a world that polices the way girls dress in schools specifically so boys can learn in “distraction-free” environments. We live in a world that actively wants to deny women reproductive rights. We live in a world where a woman’s accomplishments matter less than how perfect she looks and a world where it’s totally acceptable to tear a woman apart if she doesn’t look perfect enough.

I want readers to walk away from the book understanding why, for many girls, speaking up is not always a viable option and knowing how critical it is to create spaces that are safe enough for others so they can speak up. I want them to take a look at the spaces around them and ask whether they’re part of the solution or part of the problem.

Every girl, every woman deserves agency, recognition, and respect just as every boy and man does. Respecting all lives as equal and important is the next great leap for our culture to take.

Toughness is synonymous with boys, but more important, so is freedom, and freedom is what you want. Look at the freedoms of boys: to move around in their bodies without the commentary of others. To take up space. To boast, be clever, ask questions. To assume they are correct. To walk alone in the dark. To speak and know that they will be heard. To have faith that room will be made. To be taken seriously.

Dear reader, regardless of what you believe, of what actions make you feel strong and confident and ready to empower yourself and reach out to others—your faith is not a weakness. It forms who you are, your hopes and your fears and your dreams for a better future. It is your experience, the fuel for your voice and the reason why you reach out to hear and boost other voices.

When love stops being grand, though, accept it and move on.

Love is not enough on its own if you want to be a complete person living a complete life. There has to be more to it than that. There has to be more to you than that. Embrace a feminist love inside a relationship, but never forget to embrace a feminist love of yourself.

Our world makes sure we know that girls don’t get to have things, that we must confine ourselves to the roles pushed on us from outside, with labels like polite, subservient, and compliant. We’re judged by how feminine we are, ridiculed for that same femininity (or lack of it), and have our ideas and insights minimized or credited to men. Do we look right (are we slender, conventionally pretty, white)? Do we sound right (are we soft-spoken)? Do we apologize for existing and retreat when challenged (because only difficult people take up space)? It’s so much easier just to follow the path everyone else says we should.

Daring to want something and going after it is a feminist act. It’s stating that you put your faith in your own intuition over what others tell you, and if you make mistakes along the way, you’ll handle them. When you’re ambitious, you want to do something, and that very act reshapes the world. You cast open doors for those who come after you. Sometimes that means smashing down entire walls. (Well-behaved ladies rarely make history.)

But here’s the thing: other people’s opinions are not the truth. We live in a world that puts us into boxes and labels them with Sharpies, yet those boxes are lies. They flatten us; they limit who we really are. Feminism is about flattening the boxes instead and tossing them out with the recycling.

We’re the only ones who can determine what labels we’ll accept, if any.

Sharing yourself, your thoughts, your aspirations, is a feminist act.

My journey has taught me that, while it’s easy to see the value of success in winning, tremendous benefits also come from the work involved in losing. Because there is value in fighting for something important to you, even when the outcome is not what you hoped it would be.

In my life, I’ve found the things worth fighting for are always the hardest. And there is so much to be gained in fighting the fight, even when we fail.

Teddy Roosevelt’s rousing words: “It is hard to fail, but it is worse never to have tried to succeed.”

If you fail, fail big! Fail with flair! Fail trying to do something real, something hard. And when you do, own the journey with pride. Look at each battle scar you’ve earned as a tiny crack that will heal and make you stronger. And, as we’d say in Texas, get back up on that horse and ride to see another day.

To maintain our privilege, we remain silent in the face of slowly unfolding disasters. We think if we don’t mention it, it’ll go away and we can keep pretending everything’s okay. And our silence invites that tragedy in, entwines us even more inextricably. Of course, our silence won’t protect us or anyone else, as Audre Lorde taught us; instead, it provides the dangerous illusion of safety. And so the cycle continues, unabated.

There is power in what we choose to consume as readers, and there is power in what we choose to amplify, celebrate, and share.

sometimes, when you don’t want to follow the path that’s expected, it’s going to upset people. Even if it’s not really any of their business.

“But . . . why don’t you want kids?” On the rare occasions I was able to get someone to take me seriously enough to go beyond the assertions that I’d change my mind, I’d get this question. Because wanting kids is seen as “normal,” not wanting them is “abnormal,” and therefore, a solid reason is required.

“But, Kody, not wanting kids is just selfish.” This idea has always confused me, but it seems to be a common one. It’s this notion that women who decide not to have children must be spending all of that extra time and money on themselves—on vacations or shopping. On self-indulgence rather than caring for a family. Which . . . I don’t really see how that’s a bad thing?

Women who don’t want children are seen as selfish because they’d rather spend their money and time on themselves rather than on children who don’t even exist yet. That’s not even the primary reason many women opt out of having kids, but if it were, why would that be a problem? Wouldn’t it be more selfish to have kids if you know you’d rather spend the money on yourself? I don’t feel like guys get called “selfish” for making these decisions.

Society, culture, and the media constantly tell us we’re not good enough and that our accomplishments and achievements don’t matter or make a difference. But these are lies. Whatever it is that sets our hearts ablaze and whatever means we choose to pursue change in the world matter.

Every revolution starts with a spark, and every person finds that spark in their own way.