I’ll be meeting my students in my Monday/Wednesday women’s history class in an hour or so. As I prep for my first class, I’m still thinking about the topic of men and feminism, prompted by the exchanges described in my post immediately below.
I’m thinking in particular about this link to Wicked Muse, whom I discovered through Trish Wilson. WM writes:
Do I believe that men can be feminists? Actually, I don’t.
Here’s her reasoning:
I think men who truly support the movement by trying to do something beyond offering lip-service (perhaps in an attempt to ingratiate themselves and/or feel less guilty) are wonderful and I welcome them with open arms. Things are only going to get better by working together, which is one point I agree with Matt on. However, in a society where labels are all important, as much as we eschew them at times, I think the feminist label needs to be left for women to grasp, either to help keep them afloat or to hold high in defiance. If you’re a man and support the cause, I daresay we love you. Men like you are rare… much too rare. The support is appreciated, no doubt, but I, for one, would feel much more comfortable if at least the symbol of the movement was left to us rather than it being yet one more thing co-opted, which is just one step from having it taken away.
“This is my wife, girlfriend, mother, sister, aunt, daughter, niece, neighbor, friend and she’s a feminist. I support her and her cause 100%.â€
“Am I pro-feminist? Damn right I am.â€
I don’t know about you, but that sounds a lot more masculine and sexy than hearing a guy say, “I’m a feminist.â€
Perhaps it all comes down to semantics.
Amen, Wicked Muse, amen. I’m with you, sister (especially the bit I placed in bold).
Because I teach men’s studies as well as women’s history, I’m a bit leery about using the term “pro-feminist” man. In the field of men and masculinity, “pro-feminist” refers to one specific wing of the men’s movement, represented best by the folks at NOMAS (National Organization for Men Against Sexism, and obviously an acronym that forms the Spanish phrase “no more.”) The NOMAS definition of what makes a “pro-feminist” is here. Here’s an excerpt:
Whatever psychological burdens men have to overcome, women are still the most universal and direct victims of our patriarchy. Our organization takes a highly visible and energetic position in support of women’s struggle for equality.
Our movement was born directly out of, and is continually nourished by, feminism. Even if we could not see any pragmatic ways in which we, as men, could benefit from an end to traditional patriarchy (and we can see many), most of us would strongly support women’s struggle, simply because it is so unquestionably just and right. Our support for women’s rights and specific women’s issues is therefore vigorous and unmistakable.
I know that some feminists out there might flinch at the use of the word “victim” in the first sentence, but it’s hard to quibble with the sincerity and guilelessness of the men of NOMAS.
The problem is, there are many others in the men’s movement who approach men’s issues from a radically different perspective. (I had a long post summarizing the other three major groups in the men’s movement; here it is). I’ve spent a bit of time with the mytho-poetic men’s movement, which I think has some tremendously valuable insights that the folks in organizations like NOMAS often miss. For the mytho-poetics, the the term pro-feminist implies a man who rejects the essential archetypal differences between male and female that are so central to what the MP movement embraces. (My mytho-poetic friends are all very big on Jung, to put it mildly). Thus, when I am talking to men in the men’s movement, I avoid pigeon-holing myself with the term “pro-feminist”; when I am working with women’s groups, I happily use the term.
But laying aside the issue of semantics, what are the obligations of a feminist/pro-feminist man? Here’s where I break with Matt Stoller, whose words sparked the whole controversy that’s raging around the blogosphere. Matt, who seems a fine progressive fellow, wrote the following in the comments section:
More to the point, feminism doesn’t belong to women, and until you realize that we’re in this together, the more marginalized you will continue to be.
Well, as usual, I’ve got a “yes” and a “no” to that — and the “no” is much bigger. Yes, we are “all in this together”, and if Matt is in favor of building coalitions (and from reading his blog, I’m sure he is), then he’s absolutely right. But as a man who has been studying women’s history for almost 20 years and teaching it for nine, I am damned clear on the fact that at both the beginning and the end of the day, feminism does belong to women. Men can intellectually assent to the principles of feminism. More importantly, we can lead our public (and crucially, our private) lives in ways that reflect our spoken principles rather than contradicting them. As WM put it above, we can support but we cannot co-opt.
How then can I teach women’s history from a feminist perspective? First off, I don’t try and “unsex” myself in the classroom. (Gosh, what a mental picture that calls to mind. Anyhoo…) I acknowledge up front that I will bring my maleness into my teaching. I don’t pretend that the gender of the instructor is irrelevant. I even use my sex as a teaching tool — I point out every semester that in the minds of some, having a woman’s history course taught by a man legitimates the subject! I wish it were not so, but I know that my sex immunizes me against the charge of being a “frustrated, angry, man-hating feminazi.” (I know full well those words have been used against my fine female colleagues who also teach women’s history). Rather than take advantage of this unearned legitimacy, I try and use it to explore my students’ attitudes towards feminism, challenging them to look at their own overt and subliminal assumptions about women in authority.
Of course, some of my students are convinced I’m as gay as a bunny.
I also make it clear that while I can provide a narrative history of the women’s rights movement, I can’t take even a small leadership role within that movement. I can cheer, support, encourage, and even advise — but ultimately, leadership of the women’s movement must come from women. Feminism is not merely about respecting women, it is about honoring women’s capacity to be full and complete human beings. Given the long history of men’s domination over women, and given how many women are at least somewhat comfortable with being led by men, it is critical that men who do teach women’s studies or work near the feminist movement make certain that leadership roles are held only by women. I don’t think being a teacher is exactly the same thing as being an activist (though obviously, in gender work, there is some overlap). Academics have an obligation to a gender-transcending objectivity that requires that we open teaching opportunities to all those competent and willing to teach. At the same time, we men who work in this field must actively resist our own acculturation that tells us that we can and should “take charge”. It’s not easy, but it is essential.
And even more importantly, we men who aspire to be feminists (or pro-feminists) must constantly, constantly, be willing not only to listen to women but to hear them. We must listen not as guilt-ridden boys or as patronizing father figures, but as brothers who love their sisters as fellow human beings and as equals. It’s a hell of a lot of work, and by God, it’s worth it.
Rarely do I find myself agreeing so unreservedly! Still — and this isn’t exactly a reservation — I wonder if we don’t need a slightly more nuanced language, bearing in mind the wide range of goals and struggles even within mainstream feminism. There are some feminist issues in which men and could should participate actively and wholeheartedly — eg, union struggles for equal pay. There are others where male participation, however well-intentioned, is simply misguided and counter-productive — like trying to tag along on a Take Back the Night march.
I wonder if we mightn’t distinguish between anti-sexism (meaning opposition to both overt sexism and covert patriarchal practices) and feminism (which also embraces wider goals, including individual and collective empowerment for women, and perhaps forms of personal/ emotional growth). I would say that I’m both anti-sexist and pro-feminist, but whereas I hope I’m actively anti-sexist, my pro-feminism is necessarily more passive.
Hugo,
What an excellent post! I’m so glad you commented over on my site, because now I’ve got someone else to read. Thank you! :)
I think the most accurate part of Trish’s post is the final line about how this is really a question of semantics.
The substance of both your posts seems spot-on to me. There are roles and activities in the movement for gender equality in which men should probably not be involved, or their involvement should be limited–absolutely correct.
While I’ve always been in agreement with this position, I’ve always been happy to accept and occasionally claim the label of feminist, and I’m not planning to stop. To my thinking, the minimum requirements for the feminist label ought to be something to the effect of a commitment to gender equality and fairness in both the personal and the political spheres, a willingness to act on that commitment, and a willingness to keep an open mind toward new and emerging evidence and manifestations of patriarchy/gender oppression, etc.
As I see it, I meet these qualifications without too much trouble–which is why I’m able to recognize the importance of women’s continued central role in that struggle.
Here’s my positive case for a “big tent” for the feminist label–feminism should be normal. Feminism should be as uncontroversial a label as “anti-racist”–something all decent and fair people embrace. That it’s not says something quite troubling about our society. I say we rhetorically turn the tables. It’s the men who don’t identify as feminists who should have some explaining to do.
And I hear you loud and clear on the gendered priviledge of being a man teaching about gender. I *know* I get taken a lot more seriously by a lot of students than many of my female colleagues. Which is unfair as hell, but the only way I can think to do anything about it is to keep fighting for gender equality, and maybe someday these preconceptions and fears that students have will start to go away.
Thank you, DJW. Your big tent paragraph is perfect.
Aack. I meant Aurora’s post, not Trish. Although Trish’s comment over there makes an excellent point.
I also agree with the “big tent” , or what I would have called the dictionary definition for feminism. Small tent are what causes many women say things like “I’m for equal rights, but I’m not a feminist.”
Sub-categories of feminism should use adjectives. Obviously, feminists aren’t all going to agree 100% on all policies. You can rarely find 2 people in one room who agree 100% on all policies.