Why I’ve Toned Down My Feminism A Notch Or Two

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Abstract

ot listen when faced by facts. When trying to convince someone to change their mind, we tend to try and convince people to change their belief systems.Hear, hear. I know that if someone finds feminism a hard pill to swallow then their belief systems need a SERIOUS revamp.The simple notion of advocating rights for everyone so that the playing field is equal should not cause someone to screw up their nose in disgust. Yet, I was faced with that same reaction more often than not.Another common trend was having respectable male teachers or students boil my blood with their pseudo-antifeminism. They weren’t really antifeminist — they just wanted to get me to fight.I, unfortunately, responded to every chord of their violins.That was when I realised that being a feminist shouldn’t mean that you were the predictable jester of the school. So I gritted my teeth and ignored their sexist jibes.Recently, the Joe Biden scandal proved to me that I am still a feminist. Though ‘scandal’ seems to be the best fit for a teenage slip-up rather than a sexual assault allegation by a potential president of a first-world nation. The news of the allegation made me quiver in disgust and anger.I admit I’m not too fa

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miliar with US politics. So forgive me when I observe that the American selection of presidents (whether current or campaigning) has, what you might call, a hundred cans of slimy, grimy and sordid worms.Perhaps I say this a little arrogantly, as this side of the pond at least know who to elect to run the country. Yes, I admit, we have our fair share of greasy-haired creeps in the UK, not least Professor Snape. But they are locked up in jails and not getting people to elect them.I repeat I’m not familiar with US politics. To be frank, I never care to be, especially after Hilary Clinton was undermined in her presidential campaign on the grounds that she was a woman. It’s no secret, is it?In fact, Trump feeds this ravenous sexist American minotaur every time he calls Clinton “crooked”. I think he should look twice in the mirror.I’m not the same obnoxious and boisterous feminist I was 2 years ago. I have a quieter voice. I listen, observe and then lay out my argument like a court case. I don’t have the energy or effort to be the loudest voice. It never yielded much 2 years ago and I doubt it ever will.Sometimes, a quieter, colder voice is louder than the most passionate and obnoxious.</article></body>

Sometimes a quieter voice is louder

Sometimes quieter is louder — Illustration by Author

I read every feminist manifesto by the age of 17. I nominated myself as my school’s chief feminist. I was the girl that picked a fight with teachers, students and colleagues at my workspace — all in the name of feminism. I did not shy away from political correctness and my voice was loud and demanding.

But then, at the start of university, aged 18 and full of life, I quit feminism.

Please don’t misunderstand me. I’m still a feminist but I just don’t shove my politics down the throat of anyone passing by anymore.

I’ve realised that not everyone cares to hear from you. And if they do, they aren’t listening. And we all know there’s a distinct difference between listening and hearing.

James Clear in his newsletter talks about Why Facts Don’t Change Our Minds. Here, he unpicks the reasons why people tend to not listen when faced by facts. When trying to convince someone to change their mind, we tend to try and convince people to change their belief systems.

Hear, hear. I know that if someone finds feminism a hard pill to swallow then their belief systems need a SERIOUS revamp.

The simple notion of advocating rights for everyone so that the playing field is equal should not cause someone to screw up their nose in disgust. Yet, I was faced with that same reaction more often than not.

Another common trend was having respectable male teachers or students boil my blood with their pseudo-antifeminism. They weren’t really antifeminist — they just wanted to get me to fight.

I, unfortunately, responded to every chord of their violins.

That was when I realised that being a feminist shouldn’t mean that you were the predictable jester of the school. So I gritted my teeth and ignored their sexist jibes.

Recently, the Joe Biden scandal proved to me that I am still a feminist. Though ‘scandal’ seems to be the best fit for a teenage slip-up rather than a sexual assault allegation by a potential president of a first-world nation. The news of the allegation made me quiver in disgust and anger.

I admit I’m not too familiar with US politics. So forgive me when I observe that the American selection of presidents (whether current or campaigning) has, what you might call, a hundred cans of slimy, grimy and sordid worms.

Perhaps I say this a little arrogantly, as this side of the pond at least know who to elect to run the country. Yes, I admit, we have our fair share of greasy-haired creeps in the UK, not least Professor Snape. But they are locked up in jails and not getting people to elect them.

I repeat I’m not familiar with US politics. To be frank, I never care to be, especially after Hilary Clinton was undermined in her presidential campaign on the grounds that she was a woman. It’s no secret, is it?

In fact, Trump feeds this ravenous sexist American minotaur every time he calls Clinton “crooked”. I think he should look twice in the mirror.

I’m not the same obnoxious and boisterous feminist I was 2 years ago. I have a quieter voice. I listen, observe and then lay out my argument like a court case. I don’t have the energy or effort to be the loudest voice. It never yielded much 2 years ago and I doubt it ever will.

Sometimes, a quieter, colder voice is louder than the most passionate and obnoxious.