I have identified as a feminist since I was in high school. Yet when I was 15 I didn't entirely understand what that meant, or what connotations went with it. While I am grateful to be a more informed feminist, there's a part of me who misses the innocence of not knowing. I miss not knowing that there are people who hear the term feminist and are turned off, or, more frighteningly, filled with anger or hate. I miss not knowing the word "Femi-Nazi" or "man-hating feminist". I miss not having a pocket-speech about the difference between feminism and misandry, or the wage gap, or rape, or the million other things I've had to defend and validate my views on. I miss the feeling of goodness and pride, untouched by the tired feeling of holding the weight of so much history.
Being a feminist is not an easy feat. There is an ever-present backlash, both from those who do not support your views and those who do, just not the word feminist, or feminism. Still, as exhausted and defeated as I may feel at times, there are still moments that amaze and inspire me, moments that remind me what I'm doing is necessary and important, moments that again fill me with feelings of goodness and pride free of that tiredness. One of the most profound moments for me as a feminist was the Women's March in Des Moines, Iowa on January 21, 2017.
As a carful of friends and I drove to Des Moines that morning, we spoke excitedly about the march, confessing we weren't entirely sure what we were driving toward. Upon arriving at the capitol building, we were blown away. We didn't know how many people we were expecting, but the crowd was certainly more than we had anticipated (we later found out the estimated number was 26,000). March chants and words of empowerment rang through the air, nearly moving me to tears.
As we slowly began to maneuver through the crowd, we marveled at all the different people who had come out to march. Men, women, gender non-conforming individuals, children, elderly people, gay people, straight people, a myriad of different races, and so on. The mere fact that so many people had set aside their Saturday morning to march in solidarity was enough for me. Yet my awe did not end there. With every cleverly written sign, every pink hat, every chant, every supportive car horn, my heart filled with an overwhelming sense of pride and love.
What moved me the most was one little girl, about 7 or so, who was holding a sign about as big as she was, high above her head. She had clearly painted the sign herself, and as she marched next to her mother she shouted the march chants in unison with those around her, her voice rivaling those of the grown men and women walking beside her. This little girl was not the only one I saw at the march that day, and the fact that so many parents had brought their children, sons and daughters alike, made me genuinely happy for the future. Too often I have seen people my age who are uneducated and/or complacent, often refusing to learn or take action about that which moves them. Knowing there will continue to be both marches for these issues and people willing to march gives me hope.
Perhaps at any one of these marches around the world was the next Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Susan B. Anthony, Gloria Steinem, or Malala Yousafzai. Perhaps these marches will inspire a new generation of men and women to fight for equal rights for all. Perhaps these marches will serve as a stepping stone towards equal pay, improving treatment of sexual assault survivors, securing and protecting women's health rights, removing the tax from feminine hygiene products, and so on. Perhaps these marches will remind our young people that who they are and what they can do is not and should not be limited by their sex, gender identity, sexuality, sexual history, or anything other than their ambitions.
More immediately, may the Women's March serve as a source of strength and hope these next four years. I can say that following this past election, I was feeling very unsafe and frightened for my, as well as the country's, future. These feelings have carried through to the inauguration and into this new presidency. However, the Women's March was, for me, the perfect way to enter into this next chapter in our country's history. The feeling at the march was one of safety, inclusion, hope, and love, which was everything I needed following the inauguration. While this presidency continues to worry and anger me, I carry all that I felt at the women's march inside me as a reminder that I am not alone and that, to quote J.K. Rowling, "Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one only remembers to turn on the light".
I encourage everyone to take care of each other in these coming months and years5q and to respect the needs and fears of those around you. I also encourage you to take care of yourselves, whatever that looks like for you. Whether it's time with friends or family, a warm bath, a cup of coffee, a good book, do something for you. And do not be afraid to stand up for what you believe in, do not be afraid to let your voice be heard, do not be afraid to care about things, because this matters.
