| Undercover feminists: diplomacy
in activism
Whether or not Sommers is right in her assessment of current feminist thought as philosophically bankrupt, she does have a point about the marginalization of the mainstream in its relationship to feminism. Activists today, while often inspired by feminism and its accomplishments, find that there are complications in straightforwardly espousing feminist aims. In settings from middle America to rural Indonesia, the term "feminist" comes loaded with off-putting associations. Many activists are left trying to work around the perceptions of those they work with while remaining true to their own convictions about women’s rights. Leslie Kretzu is postponing her Masters in Feminist Ethics to work for the Living Wage Project. She tours college campuses across the country to raise awareness of the living conditions experienced by Nike factory workers in Indonesia. Her new job has an arduous schedule. Her energetic smile doesn’t express how she misses the long walks she used to take and how she rarely finds time anymore to play the guitar. But Leslie finds what she does compelling, enough, at least for now, to keep her working 6-7 days per week. Given that 80-90 percent of all workers who manufacture apparel and footwear are women, Leslie points out, "the labor rights issues I focus on are inevitably women’s rights issues as well." Not just because of this overlap, but also because Leslie feels her experience as a woman in the U.S. helps her to identify with other marginalized groups, she sees her activism as "feminism in action." But Leslie doesn’t always identify as feminist. Americans in general don’t much like the word. She finds, "It is unfortunately more palatable to the mainstream for feminists to inject women’s rights into economic, social and political issues" than it is for people to advocate outright for women’s rights. She also realizes that the women she’s fighting for, the majority of whom are poor and Muslim, might not embrace feminism with its links to Western, American, and middle-class values. So Leslie looks for means other than the controversial label "feminist" to communicate her stance. At most of the college campuses where she has spoken with her co-worker Jim Kready, "the male students saw me as the ‘accessory’ rather than as an equal presenter," she said. In environments where being called "feminist" might not get her very far, Leslie used inclusive language, evenly divided speaking time, and refocused conversations on issues of gender to fight being relegated to the shadows. Jacob Remes, an undergraduate at Yale, who also sees his feminism as informing his activism, doesn’t have the same problem. Working both with local unions and distant sweatshop workers in pressuring his university to adopt improved labor and ethical licensing policies, Jacob points out the importance of feminism to the unionization of clerical and technical employees at Yale in 1984. But he doesn’t worry that being called "feminist" might detract from his work. Neither does his classmate, Robert Smuts, who has also helped organize labor unions. That’s because it’s not the primary way he is identified. For Robert, "Being tagged a feminist is less of a hindrance to working in New Haven politics than being a Yalie, a skinny white kid, or a host of other identities." Depending on the setting, men coming forward as feminists are more likely to be viewed as anomalies or puzzles, and less likely to be seen as threatening, man-hating, or challenging to the status-quo. Undercover feminists: diplomacy in activism |