funny, isn't it?
by jeanne charters

My friend asked me, “Do you consider yourself a feminist?” I felt my spine grow steely and my jaw jut forward as I answered her. “Of course, I’m a feminist…how could I be anything else?”

Why the defensive attitude, I wondered? Then, my mind drifted back to a song I loved as a kid. It was from a play called “Annie, Get Your Gun!”

The song went like this:

The girl that I marry will have to be as soft and as pink as a nursery.
The girl I call my own will wear satins and laces and smell of cologne.
Her nails will be polished and, in her hair, she’ll wear a gardenia and I’ll be there.
‘Stead of flittin’, I’ll be sittin’ next to her and she’ll purr like a kitten.
A doll I can carry … the girl that I marry must be.

I bought it … the whole Donna Reed shtick. I grew up believing that if I just looked pretty and smiled nicely, I would accomplish any goals that were important to me. A failed first marriage and the clear knowledge that I would personally have to put my 4 daughters through college was a reality check I never expected. “Wait a minute”, I thought, “I followed all the rules. What the heck happened here?”

I remember when I got my first job in television sales. This was not a field for women at that time. I called my mother back in Ohio thrilled with my new position and the opportunity to make real money. Her response was, “Does your boss think you’re pretty?”

So, yes, I became a feminist. I read Bella Abzug and Betty Friedan. Frankly, though, I related most strongly to Gloria Steinem. She was gorgeous, you know. Hey, don’t be mad at me. Old habits die hard.

In 1977, I read a book called “The Womens’ Room” by Marilyn French. The women in that book followed the rules, too. They didn’t work any better for them than they had for me. My friends and I formed Women’s Consciousness Raising Groups. Consciousness raising was primarily “man bashing”. It wasn’t productive at all. We groused and complained and drank coffee, tea or wine. The bottom line of that time was that here we were … a group of intelligent, well educated women who were expected to be happy keeping house and being mothers. It just didn’t work!

So, we burned our bras. Why? I don’t know.

In this year of Our Lord, 2004, I think my feminism has softened. I don’t need it as much as I did. I have proven to the world and to myself that I can be successful in a male-dominated industry. I am married to a man who thinks I’m as smart and as clever as he is. If I were hiring right now, I would definitely lean toward hiring a female … not because I’m a feminist, but because I’ve learned through years of experience, that women generally do a better job.

I decided to check with some other folks about “feminism”.

Pauline Frederick said, “When a man gets up to speak, people listen, then look. When a woman gets up, people look; then if they like what they see, they listen.”
My daughter, Caroline, says, “Feminism … is that still a word? I remember hearing it when I was a little girl. I just don’t think it’s relevant any more. I have never been discriminated against in business because I am a woman.” Caroline is a mother of two and a mortgage broker in New York … the top producer in a company which employs many women … and men.

I think Caroline subscribed to the Eleanor Roosevelt school of feminism. Eleanor said, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”
Shirley Chisolm said, “The emotional, sexual and psychological stereotyping of females begins when the doctor says, ‘It’s a girl’.”

My daughter, Stacia, who is a doctor and mom of three, disagrees, “The word carries little meaning for me. It seems like an old word with little value today. It brings up a feeling of woman needing to fight to prove something. There isn’t a bone in my body that feels the need to prove something based on the fact that I am female. I am unbelievably grateful to be female, and it would not occur to me to feel discriminated against for being so. As a physician, being female is a huge advantage. The word ‘feminist’ serves no purpose in my vocabulary.”

Wow! How did those apples fall so very far from my tree? Actually, I don’t think they did. Maybe the bra-burning stuff made a dent!

I asked my friend, Steve, for his view on “feminism”.

“I was living in Southern California when the term and the movement became very prominent. My gut reaction then was pretty much, ‘What are they complaining about?’ I thought all our lives, men’s and women’s, were pretty good, essentially equal. So, for what it’s worth, that’s how it was for me. I hope this will not taint your opinion of me. Good luck with the article and the work you’re doing.”
Thanks, Steve. No “taint” taken.

So, having stewed a bit on my view of “feminism” in the 21st Century, here’s what I conclude. I’m OK … my kids are OK …most of the women I know are OK. However, that just isn’t good enough.

The citizen majority in this country is still under represented in our board rooms, our pulpits and our highest elected offices. Women have been repressed through history because good old boys are afraid of women. Our menses are “dirty”. Our tears denote weakness. Our screams are bitchy. If we’re young, we can’t be trusted to not get pregnant. If we’re old, the “change” might incapacitate us. They have denigrated our Goddesses as crazy and our rituals as pagan. Men who coin phrases like “feminazi” know, in some fearful little place in their souls, that powerful women might jeopardize their own power base.

Funny, isn’t it that the natural yin and yang of a male-female world partnership is being stifled out of fear. Well, boys, here’s my fear. Unless you let us in, our environment, our educational system and our very standard of living may perish from the earth.

Am I a feminist? You’re damned right I am.

Jeanne Charters is a former V.P. of Marketing for Viacom Television. She started her own award-winning broadcast advertising agency in 1990. Jeanne lives in Fairview with her husband, Matt Restivo.
[ charmkt@juno.com;828-628-0023 ]