Feminist Origins: My Childhood

First an outfit that I wore last week for a day of teaching.  Honestly, this was one of my favorite outfits in a long time.  It turns out that wearing silk pants is even more comfy than wearing pjs.

(Pants - Club Monaco (remixed), Tank - Target (remixed), Cardigan - Target (remixed), Boots - John Fluevog Mallory (remixed) Scarf - Jones New York, Earrings - New York & Co. (remixed))

I have been thinking a lot about feminism lately.  It's not just because of our CFP (enter by Friday 2/25!) either.  I don't want to get into a political rant, but I've been feeling lately as if women are under attack from certain political constituencies in the United States, who want to redefine rape and who want to pull funding from organizations like Planned Parenthood, which provides annual exams, STD testing, and birth control to women with low income who do not have sufficient health insurance.

But like I said, I don't want this to become a rant because I don't think that's productive.  Instead I want to explain my stance on feminism across a couple of posts over the next week or so.  The first of these has to do with the origins of my sense of gender equality through my childhood experience.  It was my upbringing that helped shape me into the essentially liberal feminist that I am.  I rarely write a post this personally revealing, but here goes.

I was lucky enough to grow up in a household where limitations were not put on me because of my sex or gender.  From an early age, I believed that I was just as capable as any bo(d)y, and my parents fostered that.  To the best of their abilities and limited income, my zoologist/teacher/professor father and my teacher/housewife/computer geek/counselor mother gave me equality of opportunity and taught me to shun stereotypes and stereotyping.  I believed and still do believe that discrimination on the basis of gender, class, race, physical appearance, or religion is wrong and that women's work should be appreciated and equally compensated.

Growing up, I had cowboy boots and a couple of barbie dolls.  I had dump trucks and Anne of Green Gables books. I loved Spiderman, Indiana Jones, Wonder Woman, and Jane Goodall.  I climbed trees, fished, and camped.  I put on lipstick and had a favorite clutch purse.  I did cartwheels.  I rode my bike and popped wheelies.  I had pet snakes and pet hamsters.  I was good at math and reading.  I wore jeans.  I wore dresses.  In the first grade I got in trouble at school for telling one of my classmates at lunch that shithead and doodoo brain meant the same thing.  At home, my parents agreed that I was right about that but suggested I not use such language at school.  As I got older, I did science fairs.  I did Model UN.  I was a cheerleader.  I did kung fu.  I curled my hair.  I cut my hair short.  I watched football.  I painted my toe nails.  I took Calculus and AP English.  In essence, my parents didn't gender my toys, my opportunities, my academic achievements, or my activities.  They let me decide what I wanted to do (so long as I mowed the lawn and didn't incur huge long distance phone bills and kept my grades up), and they supported me while I pursued those things.

It was never suggested to me that I should be anyone but me.  My parents encouraged me to be smart, strong, capable, opinionated, politically aware, intentional, independent, generous, and a third wave feminist.  They encouraged me to call bullshit when I saw it or heard it.  They raised me to make my choices without the constraints of gendered assumptions.  So much so, that I'm still occasionally surprised that these constraints exist and are still so deeply embedded in much of American society.