Are You a Feminist?

Are you a feminist?  There is a new book out called “How to Be a Woman.”  I haven’t read it yet, but yesterday I listened to Terry Gross interviewing the author, Caitlin (pronounced Cat-lin) Moran.  This woman is English, has two young kids, is a writer/television personality married to a music journalist, and is only 37.  I say “only” because the wisdom and humor – and by humor, I mean hilarity – that she gives off are usually the hard-won products of a much older person.

She came up with the idea for this book after numerous conversations with women of all ages, who routinely denied any connection with feminism.  “Oh, God, I’m not a feminist!” was a typical response when she would make an offhand remark like, “Of course, we’re all feminists here.” 

What do they mean by that, she wonders?  Her point is that we are now all, by default, feminists – we’ve just forgotten the battles that were fought in feminism’s name.  You’re not a feminist?  Then you should probably contact the federal agency responsible for these things and tell them you’d like to turn in your voter registration card, because you’re not smart enough, or important enough, to vote.  Are you using birth control? If you’re not a feminist, you should accept the fact that you have no right to plan the size of your family, and simply throw caution to the wind.  If someone at work were harassing you sexually, does it seem radically feminist to report him to his superiors?  Or should you suffer in silence, and look for another job?  Do you realize how unbelievably common this scenario was before feminists put an end to it?

Moran is bawdy, brilliant, and killingly funny.  Her mind races a mile a minute, and her mouth has no trouble keeping up.  She’s the oldest of eight children, from an impoverished family, where there was frequently not enough food, and she and most of her siblings developed eating disorders.  Of the non-anorexic  variety.  They were also home-schooled, and her tales of her and her seven  obese, socially awkward siblings will have you on the floor.  Several  times I burst out laughing during my walk yesterday. 

And that, more than anything, is what I love about her.  Yesterday morning was a vulnerable, anxious time for me, for reasons that escape me now, but after listening to her for 30 minutes, my mood turned on a dime.   I felt strong and powerful – laughter will do that for you.  What’s that expression?  “Do you see your life as a soap opera, or a sitcom?”  How freeing, how empowering, to be able to laugh at yourself.  Why can I never remember that?  Why do I have to keep learning this lesson over and over again?  Do I need to put a sign up on my bathroom mirror so every morning I can remind myself to NOT TAKE MYSELF SO DAMN SERIOUSLY?

I just got back from today's walk -- 20 minutes with Banks, and an hour and ten on the Stacy Park Hills -- and my strong, sassy mood remains in place.

I will be getting this book, and this one won’t be from the library.