This post almost made me lose faith in humanity.
I don’t want to be too harsh — it’s a thoughtful post and I agree with its conclusions, and I have a good deal in common with its author — but my heart was half-broken by just the title.
Uh oh.
Now, let me make this clear, in case I didn’t already: I agree with the conclusions of this post. I’m just really, really sad that we’re still asking this question.
The post continues:
One unfortunate consequence of feminism’s emphasis on the personal as political is that it becomes too easy to discriminate against people for not being “feminist enough.”
This is the opposite of what “the personal is political” is supposed to mean. “The personal is political” is not an excuse to bash other women or take away someone’s feminist membership card. It’s the idea that our ostensibly “personal” problems — like rape, domestic violence, and sexual harassment — are actually part of large-scale systems of oppression. Many personal hardships are the result of political injustices.
Now, of course individuals should be held accountable for their own unfair or bigoted actions. But wearing lipstick — for example — is not an act of bigotry, even though it’s caused by a bigoted system. The fact that women wear lipstick is a function of the gender system, but the fact that women wear lipstick doesn’t itself cause sexism. We could have an egalitarian world with lipstick; we couldn’t have an egalitarian world with a wage gap.
I try to be comfortable with my naughty subservience, but as a feminist and a fiercely independent person, it’s an awkward thing to feel and admit to. I get this niggling sense that I should be large and in charge all the time, like my personal politics should be carrying over into my sexual preferences. I’m trying to overthrow gender roles, here. Being submissive in bed is a stereotypically feminine thing. Bad feminist!
I happen to be not at all stereotypically feminine, but nonetheless, I totally disagree that “stereotypically feminine” = “bad/worse feminist.”*
My best friend is a heterosexual with long hair, and I’m a dyke with a buzz cut. She can’t help liking men any more than I can help liking women, and she might feel as uncomfortable with very short hair as I would with a ponytail. Am I therefore a better feminist?
My girlfriend wears lots of dresses, jewelry and girly shoes, while I prefer to wear pants, t-shirts and motorcycle boots. We both wear the clothes we like, feel comfortable in, and look best in, and our choices are both, inevitably, influenced by the gender system. Am I a better feminist?
Of course I’m not.
So getting back to the original question:
Can I Be a Feminist and a Bottom in Bed?
I don’t know, can you?
Do you like being tied up because you think women are inherently inferior? While your partner is telling exactly you what to do, are you secretly thinking that the state should outlaw contraception? While you’re being spanked, are you thinking that boys shouldn’t cry and girls shouldn’t learn math? Are you thinking that everyone should be in a heterosexual marriage in which the man is the head of the household? Are you thinking that women who are date-raped and men who are raped prison deserve what they get? Are you think that sexism is permissible? That equal pay for equal work is a bad idea? While you’re having sex, what are you thoughts on suffrage? How about your thoughts on the ERA? Are you having on ideas about whether women should be allowed to own property?
Our actions are undoubtedly influenced by the gender system. People’s sexual proclivities may be influenced by the gender system — I honestly don’t know, and I really don’t care. At the end of the day, if you’re opposed to sexism — if you believe men and women should be equal, that the gender system in unjust, that our freedoms, both legal and cultural, should not be dependent on our genitals, chromosomes, or our gender presentation, that every person has a sovereign right to reproductive justice — then you’re a feminist in my book, regardless of how you choose to use or not use make-up and handcuffs.
* The author of the original post explains that she disagrees with this, too — this post is not a take-down of her post, really, just of the ideas that caused her to write it in the first place.
Posted under Politics, Sexuality
This post was written by Daisy on October 15, 2008
Brilliantly put.
I think the degree to which our actions (and the range of sexual expression we consider possible/permissible) is a very interesting topic.
If you act a certain way in bed purely for enjoyment, that’s one thing. But if you fill a certain role because of discomfort stepping outside its bounds, all the while being aware enough as a feminist that said discomfort comes from our sexist culture rather than personal desire, then I think there is a problem.
Its kind of the reverse of privilege, where you are the victim rather than the benefactor, and you are aware rather than unaware of the problem.
I agree with the post’s conclusion, a feminist is a feminist, regardless of sexual preferences. But I do think something else is going on if while being handcuffed and spanked a female feminist is thinking “this is how I *should* express myself sexually” rather than “this is how I like to express myself sexually”. The reverse would hold true for male feminists. I think this problem also applies to how one consider’s one’s partner’s role.
I agree with your assessment (and, just for the record, I’m not the author of the post just another contributor at the same blog) and I definitely agree that things like this shouldn’t be an issue anymore, that it shouldn’t matter what we do in bed or in our personal fashion (for example) as long as we’re doing these things because we want to do them and not because we think we have to because of societal expectations for our gender.
However, here’s the problem:
This is the opposite of what “the personal is political” is supposed to mean. “The personal is political” is not an excuse to bash other women or take away someone’s feminist membership card. It’s the idea that our ostensibly “personal” problems — like rape, domestic violence, and sexual harassment — are actually part of large-scale systems of oppression. Many personal hardships are the result of political injustices.
Yes, the “personal is political” is supposed to mean that personal issues are also political, but I disagree that idea is not sometimes used in just the opposite fashion. As ridiculous as it may seem, it’s still not uncommon to be accused of being a “bad” feminist because you like to wear makeup and heels. Or the other way around: that being a feminist in the 21st century doesn’t mean what it mean in the 1970s–you’re allowed to wear lipstick, etc., so why are you still going around not shaving and not wearing a bra? Fashion, sexually proclivities and other seemingly “trivial” personal matters are still at issue. It sounds as dumb to me as it probably does to you, but the fact is that people are still sometimes judged on whether their personal choices are feminist enough. I think that’s what she means by the reversal of the “personal is political.”
I agree, Dan. A lot of (radical) feminist, though, have a very persistent habit of assuming that female bottoms have never asked themselves those questions — “Am I doing this because I like or it because I think I have to?” — and then telling them the answers. I tend to assume that folks who have that kind of preference have asked those questions and answered them to their own satisfaction (and that’s usually the case).
I absolutely don’t want women or men doing anything in bed because they feel like they have to — anyone who generalizes their own preference to “all women or men should do it this way” is doing a seriously sexist thing. But the only self-identified feminists I’ve ever heard say something like that are the ones who are against this kind of sexual freedom. I’ve never heard a feminist-identified bottom say that all women are really bottoms or should be bottoms or deserve to be bottoms. I have heard anti-porn radfems say that all men are really violent tops, though, and that all women should enjoy the sex that they enjoy and if they don’t they’re not real feminists or, even worse, not real women.
All of tis is to say: I totally agree with you. But I think that problematic thinking — “this is how I *should* express myself sexually” — is coming from the other side.
Daisy,
I think its difficult to know who has asked themselves these kinds of questions without some kind of formal study. I do agree that the assumption of ignorance is condescending.
That brings up an interesting question: Is it ok to have sex for purposes other than personal enjoyment?
I’m curious. Do you consider us, both as a blog, and as individual bloggers, to be feminists?
I apologize for my slowness in responding! The internet at my house is down.
Hi aviva,
It sounds as dumb to me as it probably does to you, but the fact is that people are still sometimes judged on whether their personal choices are feminist enough. I think that’s what she means by the reversal of the “personal is political.”
You’re completely right — if it sounds like I disagree, that’s my fault for not being clear. This happens all the time; I was trying to criticize the fact that it happens and reject it, not deny that it happens.
Hi Daran! I actually asked myself that very question as I was writing this and decided not to address it. I figured it was outside the scope of the post, but maybe I made a poor choice.
Feminism is a movement. I think it’s self-evident that someone who is fundamentally opposed to a movement and who is working to end it cannot be a part of that movement. One can be highly critical of the movement and/or its actions and/or its members, but as soon as one is actually working against the movement or working to end it, one is obviously no longer a member of that movement, regardless on one’s opinions about the movement’s stated ideals.
So, I’ll qualify my earlier statement: you’re a feminist in my book if you believe that men and women should be equal, that the gender system in unjust, that our freedoms, both legal and cultural, should not be dependent on our genitals, chromosomes, or our gender presentation, that every person has a sovereign right to reproductive justice, and if you’re not opposed to feminism. That qualification does seem kind of obvious, but it’s clearly important.
So, my answer to your question is, are the FC folks, as a blog and as individuals, opposed to feminism? I think the answer is different for each of you — I’d suspect that ballgame, for example, probably is a feminist in my book, while TS probably is not.
To clarify this distinction: I disagree with a lot of feminists. I think a lot of what passes as feminism is bullshit, both in the form of radical feminism and in the form of Jessica Valenti-style feminism (profoundly ignorant, racist, classist pro-straight-white-wealthy-Western-women-ism). I think feminism had a condemnable history or racism and that racism, classism, heterosexism and cissexism (is that a word? should be) continue in the movement today. I’m probably more closely aligned with Renegade Evolution, who of course does not identify as a feminist, than I am with most mainstream feminist blogger. The feminist thinker I most admire is bell hooks. Etc., etc.
But at the end of the day, I do share the goals of most mainstream feminist organizations (even if I have other goals, too), and “feminist” still seems like the most useful word to describe my gender politics (for now, anyway), and, though I disagree with much or even most of contemporary (straight white wealthy) feminist writing (the afore-mentioned Valenti, Linda Hirshman, etc), I rarely find myself opposed to feminist action. Therefore, though I’m very critical of feminists and feminism, I’m not opposed to feminism.
A simpler clarification: do you think feminism does more harm than good? If so, you’re probably opposed to feminism, and therefore not a feminist.
Or, another way: if feminism does harm (and it clearly does some harm), should we end feminism or reform it? If you think we should feminism, you’re probably opposed to feminism, and therefore not a feminist.
The real question is equality of what? Pick the equality and then deal with the resulting inequality (and consider reading Amertya Sen’s Inequality Reexamined). I think the equality goal goal should be to help (and allow) people to achieve the highest level of personal fulfillment that the person can achieve regardless of gender, race, etc. Quit worrying about something as impossible as total equality in a completely diverse and complex world.
It’s time to quit demanding generic equality and be specific about what you want. We should begin with removal of barriers that benefit either gender and instead allow people to get as close to their capacity for human experience as possible.
Political equality is obvious given – even though unfairly a lot of ignorant people will vote for McCain . . . I mean differently than me (the inequality that comes from one person one vote).
Physical and mental equality – let people perform to their capacity in math, science, art, and WTF – sports (as if they really matter). The emphasis should be on access and opportunity. Some people are more endowed than others, but the goal should be to allow people to achieve the highest level of their capacity.
Social equality – the reality is that women own this space. Men for the most part lead impoverished emotional and social lives compared to women – unless you think playing a round of golf at a men only club is somehow the peak of existence. Women have controlled this part of the culture in the modern era. Women can do whatever they want – they should allow some equality and let men have the same rights without holding it against them.
With regard the bedroom question – if you have to think during sex about equality then you need to rethink your sex experience. My mind is usually on my girlfriend’s experience and the moment – no matter who is on top or the bottom (and I will tell you right now – no sane person should really care). The equality should be in the enjoyment.
‘thinking “this is how I *should* express myself sexually” rather than “this is how I like to express myself sexually”.’
I think this is really the crux of it, isn’t it? If you usually conform to a traditionally gender-identifed role, but decide one day “No, I think today I feel like the nontraditional gender roles”, do you get all uncomfortable and avoid doing it because you feel like you shouldn’t….
Or do you just go ahead?
On the famous clothing front:
Do you *like* to wear lipstick, or are you *afraid not to* wear it?
For men: do you *dislike* skirts, or are you just afraid to wear them?
The same applies in bed, obviously. Honestly, most people I’ve ever heard of like to swap their ‘typical’ roles in sex at least *occasionally* or *experimentally*, so it’s kind of a good test: are you actually willing to do that when you realize that you want to?
Well, anyway, thanks for saying something which has been said before in many places. I swear people have an innate desire to force other people to act like them (heck, I know I do), and it’s rather hard to turn it off and remember that other people are *different* and *unpredictable* and you *don’t know what’s in their heads*.
Thanks for reading, Nathanael! And right on — that’s a great way to put it.
Thanks for the useful info. It’s so interesting