It's been raining outside, little drops of joy from the sky. Tea tastes much better when it's raining. FACT. Unfortunately, the rain also reminds you that every night you are required to go to bed by yourself and feel old and alone and unlovable. Stupid rain.
On Thursday night, Adelaide’s YWCA celebrated the launch of their new public policy platform and brand. The very comprehensive policy platform is the result of two years of hard work by Policy Officer Chelsea Lewis, and identifies the three major areas of concern for young women in Adelaide – violence against women, gender roles and self esteem/body image.
Below is an abridged version of the speech I delivered on the night.
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As critics of feminists argue, there has never been a better time to be a woman in Australia. We have the vote, we have excellent reproductive rights and technically speaking we’re not allowed to be assaulted by our partners (unless of course they play football and have remarkably short turn around times for learning ‘harsh lessons’).
But conversely, there’s probably never been a worse time to be a feminist. Oh sure, we’ve always been seen as man hating, squawking fishmonger’s wives with a predilection for boiler suits and an almost uncanny ability to turn men off wherever we dare to stomp – but at least people acknowledge that in the past there were things to fight FOR.
Argue that the microcosmic world we live in is still rife with double standards and inequalities and you’ll receive one of two answers:
1. Equality’s been achieved so why are you still complaining?
2. Yeah, well you’ve got it heaps better than women in third world countries so quit your yapping and just try being grateful for a change.
It’s as if somehow the state of women’s rights have only ever amounted to an undercooked steak which the chef has grudgingly agreed to slap on the grill for a bit longer. Be grateful ladies. Some women don’t even have a steak.
This is not to denigrate the trials of women whose countries’ laws actively don’t protect them. Of course we are more privileged than those women who, for example, are rejected by their communities for developing fistulas due to below sub par maternity care; or those women currently fighting in Afghanistan against legislation that will legalise marital rape (not to mention the women for whom this is a reality, legislation or not); or the 8 year old girl in Saudia Arabia recently sold by her father as a part payment on a debt, and who has now been told by the Saudi legal system that she is not old enough to ask for a divorce; or the thousands of little girls genitally mutilated every year by people who should be protecting them; or the women who have no recourse to defend themselves against spousal abuse, or who are killed because being raped has brought dishonour to their families, or who are denied the right to even the most basic education.
Yes. We are lucky compared to these women. But our struggles and failure to do anything about them are also inextricably tied to them.
To say boldly that we are equal now and should therefore shut up is not just a stark example of irony, it denies the very real fact that our society, men and women both, are complicit in the continued oppression of women the world over.
When well known personalities assault their partners and are excused by the community, we sanction their behavior. We say that violence against women is wrong but there are some cases where it’s just not AS wrong as denying the perpetrator the chance to score a goal, entertain us, get on with their lives with nothing more than a rap on the knuckles just in case the scandal ruins his career.
When women have cosmetic surgeries butchering their vaginas (and stats show this is on the rise) because porn has dictated what an ‘acceptable’ vagina looks like and popular culture has followed, then they make a mockery of the fact that for thousands of women the world over, this is not a choice.
When we fail to nurture girls through further education or reward their brains and hard work with careers and salaries to match their male counterparts, we may as well be denying them basic education.
And when we still insist on judging rape victims and survivors for their sexual histories, clothing, race and class as if any of these might offer up an excuse for the perpetrator, then we may as well be punishing her for bringing dishonor upon us all.
The truth is, we are all trapped by the same system. It varies in degrees and some corner are tighter than others. We have all the illusion of freedom but we cannot see it balances on a razor thin wire.
For us to change this, we need to empower young girls AND young boys to demand better. We have to help them grow to be the best they can be. We have to teach them that regardless of race, class, nationality, size or gender, we all deserve to be seen as equal in the world – not just in numbers, but in value.
One of the best tools you can give anyone is a sense of belonging and purpose. It’s the hope for a better future – not one which has been handed to you and to which you must resign yourself, but one in which you have had a hand forging.
Queen Ranier of Jordan says that if you educate a woman, you educate her family so if you educate a girl, you educate the future.
For too long it seems women have been silent, muffled, interrupted by protestations that the world as it is is something we should be grateful for.
But I don’t want my daughters to be grateful for scraps. I want them to send back every god damn undercooked steak anyone ever dares serve them and demand that it be done BETTER.
I want them to be part of an army. And all armies need headquarters. Perhaps the YWCA can be theirs.
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Afterwards, I proceeded to the Exeter with my friend Laura and became riotously drunk. I have been indulging in a bit of 'binge drinking' lately and am enjoying becoming a statistic. It's nice to go off the rails once in a while.
I met a girl in Melbourne the other night. She was pretty and I wanted to kiss her on the lips. She's moving to Darwin. My first girlfriend lives in Darwin. They always move to Darwin. Fucking Darwin.
