confessions of a born-again feminist

I was lucky to grow up with parents that took great satisfaction from raising a band of Valkyrie daughters: neither myself or my sisters are what you would call easily cowed. my father especially, largely because his mother was pretty much the badass of the ages, seemed to especially delight in anytime we took on something, anything out there and killed it - “just try and mess with my daughters” was the feeling. through to my graduation from university, when it came to school, sports, anything… I never felt held back by my gender in the slightest.

this led to an interesting post-feminist reaction: I had no doubt I was equal so when I’d see a “a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle” shirts in a thrift store, they seemed so quaint. they were relics of time when strong women had to be angry and rally against men and burn their bras and stuff. that just wasn’t me.

I’ve always considered myself a feminist though. so when I cozied up with the Feminine Mystique in my mid-twenties, the part that really stuck out to me was Friedan’s bit on a big part of the battle is showing up. work. continue to work. be present. be good at what you do. I did my best to do that.

anything more vocal than that, more pro-woman just felt… tired. I felt like calling out gender reinforced differences, when I felt to truly fight the good fight meant to just get on with it.

isn’t it great when the world blows things up on you?

in my travels I had the total honor of hanging out with @markfairbanks and his crew at translator in milwaukee. coincidentally, @deziner was working on talk around the film Miss Representation that day and I checked out the trailer.

something about this trailer struck hard. when I saw it, perhaps because I was in non-media travel vacuum that my trip affords me, the imagery really hit me and the statistics and the anecdotes sunk in. it made me realize that I’ve been thinking everything is fine when it’s not. we have such a long way to go.

it got me honestly thinking about my own experiences.

now let me start by saying that the vast, vast majority of men that I have worked with in advertising have been amazing. they’re been friends, colleagues, partners, great bosses, mentors and sponsors.

and let’s be honest: advertising isn’t the most PC place and frankly, I love that it’s not. I love the banter, I love how it can be ridiculous and I, like just about everyone else, have dated in the industry. hell, I’ve married in the industry (and subsequently divorced in the industry)… and then dated some more in the industry and I personally like the fact that we’re not all a bunch of uptight prudes.

but while in the industry, I’ve also been on the receiving end of the line being crossed. I personally have had my ass grabbed, my hair yanked, I’ve been propositioned by people who absolutely should not have been propositioning me (and, for the very clear record, got no where with their propositioning).

these actions suck. but more than just the action itself, there’s then dealing with consequences that sucks as well - sometimes it’s just merely annoying, sometimes it’s more - but there’s always an after-effect that needs attention as well. it can be drag to put it mildly.

ultimately, I always treated these few bad eggs for what they were: a few bad eggs. I personally dealt with it by continuing to truck on, blowing it off and handling people differently who were idiots and needed to be handled differently. truck on truck on, live the dream. I didn’t want to cause a scene, be “that crazy bitch” (I get that enough). I thought that was enough.

but is it?

I have four nieces whom I adore. if anyone ever grabbed their ass, pulled their hair or inappropriately tried to sleep with any of them I think I’d go properly kamikaze apeshit on those jerks.

And yet I realize the empty boldness of that last sentence: I make brave proclamations of how I’d defend their honor in some yet-to-be-materialized situation, and yet I’ve done very little in my own reality to make those hypothetical situations not even happen in the first place.

by just putting my head down and barreling on in light of my own few bad incidents and in light of the fact that women are still not equal going to do anything for them in 15 years when they’re working? or am I just allowing the world to continue to exist and giving it to them to deal with? what kind of aunt am I?

so, my change.

sexual harassment suits? not my thing. I support those that have the guts to do that, but I don’t think it ever will be me (however boys, just try and mess with me. I’ll Lorena Bobbit your ass).

however, I can be better about being vocal about the inequalities, about joining @cindygallop and others in calling out where we need to #changetheratio. I can be better about helping younger women and about taking the time and energy to foster the better ties with women in and out of the business in general. I can be a better feminist.

I’m going to start there and see how it goes. just watch, I’ll be burning my bra before you know it.