A while back I introduced myself to a young college student as a “feminist.” I got some dirty looks and then had to explain that no, I did not burn bras (only a few women did, and it was before my time!) Instead, I buy pretty bras, in Paris no less! (Well, not all the time!) now that young woman is in the work force and I bet she might think of herself as a feminist too. Because to be one means that we love ourselves, not that we hate men. We want respect, equality, and opportunities…does not seem too much to ask, and yet we are still not where we should be.
Some words are crystal clear. “Rape,” “violence,” and “abuse” are some words that have it “easy” as compared to their counterparts. They are definite. They are an entity within themselves. They convey without hesitation and haunt without restriction. Then come the words that, by a meager glance, would seem absolute, but dwell deep within and suddenly you are caught, off guard, in a an ocean of contempt, hatred, and power, but at its basic a word misplaced.
Feminism, like most new, badly “translated” words is under fire. It pops up every now and then on our Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr feeds and every time it does it leaves a sour aftertaste, often evoking a raging disgust. Unlike “assault,” “murder,” or “rape,” this word (feminism), which at its very essence is merely an 8-letter word, is regrettably misunderstood today’s world. So here is my attempt to explain feminism…
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