“The thing is,” my mother said to me the other day, “you’re not a feminist.”
“I’m not?” I said in some surprise, having always vaguely thought of myself as such.
“No,” she said. “Feminists, at least in the main, feel strongly about underrepresentation of women, whereas you recognize that while it might not be the way it’s spozed to be, it’s the way it is.”
I suspect this is largely true. I do subscribe to the radical idea (and to me amusing definition of feminism) that women are people too, and I’ve been known to go to the mat over issues which are based in feminist beliefs (ask me sometime about the insurance company wanting me to prove I was married because my last name was different from my husband’s). But I have been exceedingly fortunate. It has never occurred to me in any way that I might be prevented from or incapable of doing something because of my gender. As far as I can tell, I never have been prevented from accomplishing anything on the basis of my gender.
And I am afforded these things because I stand on the shoulders of giants. I am wildly grateful for and fully aware of that which has gone before. I am indebted to the women (and men) who have fought the battles that let me have a credit card in my own name, let me participate in sports (that’s one I just cannot get over. I *know* the previous generation didn’t get to participate in school sports, but the idea just blows my mind), and many, many other things. Furthermore, I absolutely understand that I have it good, and huge numbers of women around the world don’t, and I wholly agree with and support an agenda that continues to fight to equalize men and women across the globe. I think International Women’s Day is a good idea, and I wish it was one that we didn’t need.