I’ve been backsliding y’all. I mean really backsliding. I act like I forgot how feminism saved me, way back when. The way it taught me how to listen more closely to the music that moved me. The way it stopped me from saying things like “I don’t really hang out with girls because they’re too catty” and appreciate sisterhood. The way it showed me the intersections of my black face, my gendered body, and my poor status. The way it beautifully awakened my consciousness. I forgot about my feminist rebirth.
In the beginning, my new born-again identity caused me to scream it from the rooftops. I was suggesting that everyone I ran across read Angela Davis’ autobiography and read Patricia Hill Collins Black Feminist Thought. Studying the good books was everything to me. I was alive and engaged during discussions. Eager to hear the testimonies of others who have been saved and excited by the potential of a world on fire with a feminist politic. I was that feminist. Yes, the one that pointed to the sexism in every single rap song and music video. The one people hated to go to the movies with because I was going to destroy all the fun. The one that wanted to live in a totally feminist world and wouldn’t stop preaching the glories of the mothers!
I became a feminist scholar so I could continue to learn more and do more. I worked with non-profit organizations on a tangible, on the ground feminism that blends theory and practice. I’ll never forget the excitement I felt participating in the First US Social Forum in Atlanta. I was beyond hyped! This is what it was all about. Saving the unsaved!
There was even a point where I would completely write off anti-feminists as ignorant patriarchy worshippers. I didn’t even have the desire to save their minds. Why, when I could just surround myself with like-minded people and just be in complete feminist circles? (That’s super easy in Atlanta). And those days were amazing! Sitting over wine and spaghetti talking about sexism in hip-hop and constructing conference panels. I was on it!
And then things happened in my personal life where I had to be around the heathens more often. And at first, while difficult, I enjoyed the challenge of imparting feminist knowledge into their conversations about phat asses and the difference between a good woman and a slut. (You know the whole Jay-Z “Sisters vs Bitches thing). I enjoyed the opportunity to be around a small male child on a consistent basis and balance his male socialization with feminist contradictions that allowed him to play more with his identity.
But somewhere in between dealing with reading feminist theories that didn’t look like the foremothers I knew, and being situated in the academy that was never designed for my black female self, constantly being around sexist voices, and mothering a child I didn’t birth, I got tired of fighting feminist fights. So I stopped, and let a few things slide. Then a few more things slid by. Then before you know it I was finding more problems with feminism than with the world. And I was critiquing the uptight feminists of yesteryear. And I became quite skilled at theorizing why certain behavior can actually be read as feminists if you looked at it in a different light.
Then I caught myself laughing at something that would have pissed me the fuck off before and in the middle of my laughter something didn’t feel quite right. And I realized, I liked my life better when feminism was more present. It had more meaning and I had more purpose and was much more hopeful. And for some reason I forgot that.
But I’m back! And I’m coming down the aisle today ready to get Crunk for the Lorde once again! I’m excited to spread the word in my intro course this fall and ready to renew my faith in feminism. I have Borderlands open and ready to read. I have my notes from Methodology of the Oppressed pulled up and color-coded. And I have my Erykah Badu on repeat. I am slowly coming back and looking forward to some intentional feminist fellowship soon and reminding myself of the power of feminism for my personal and political life. Pray for me!
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