“Are you a feminist?”
I asked my then-boyfriend, via text message.
I remember sitting in my women’s studies class waiting anxiously for his reply.
When it finally came, it wasn’t what I expected.
I don’t know. What’s in it for me?
Although disappointment is what I feel now as I reminisce about this moment, betrayal is what I felt then. Only I didn’t know enough to call it that or begin to know why I felt this way at all.
I felt alone and unsupported. That’s the best way I could describe it at the time.
In hindsight, I was hurt a lot more than I cared to admit to myself. I was hurt that this man I thought would do everything for me, rejected to be part of a group that had my best interests in mind. A group that simply sought to offer me equal rights in our society. He didn’t want to be an ally to such a simple request.
To this day I don’t know for sure if it was applying the label to himself or being in favor of equal rights that didn’t interest him.
It could have been both too.
I’m going to be optimistic considering I spent years with this person and say that it was probably a label issue.
I personally have no problem with labels. I’m a vegan and a feminist.
But I know a lot of people have problems with sticking those kinds or any kind of labels to themselves.
I get it. The same label can make you feel trapped while it makes another feel free and proud.
Some labels are too hard to bear in some communities and sometimes precisely because of the communities that wear them.
The vegan movement certainly is a good example of that. A lot of people can’t dissociate the meaning of the vegan label from the negative connotation (imagined or founded) that those who wear it have.
It’s a problem in rallying people to the cause and it’s also a problem when it comes to intersectionality.
If you’re not familiar with the term it refers to the idea that systems of oppression are not independent of each other but rather that they interrelate and thus any form of oppression can’t be eliminated without fighting all of them.
When I asked my old boyfriend the feminist question a few years ago that’s when I opened that Pandora’s box for myself.
When I become vegan a few years later, that’s when I started looking at the contents of the box and realizing that I had been as bad as he had seemed to me.
I saw how pieces fit in the giant intersectionality puzzle.
I cared about being a feminist because feminist issues touched me as a woman. There was nothing in it for him.
I could afford to not care about animals for all these years just like he could afford to not care about being a feminist.
I realize now that sometimes the roots of oppression go so deep that we can’t recognize how we’ve grown from and with them.
It’s a scary thought but one that needs to be addressed.
In the past years I’ve learned to care, a lot, about people and animals and it’s overwhelming to think that there’s more.
That there’s always more. More ways in which I should care.
I’m learning that having the luxury to not have to care about certain things means that I should care even more about them.
What do you think?
*I’m by no means a scholar and that familiar with intersectionality theory so please feel free to chime in and correct me or to add to the discussion. Those are simply some thoughts that circle in mind lately.
Thanks for reading!