whoneedsfeminism:

I need feminism because I am 19 and about to start college and I few weeks ago my family was sitting around the dinner table and  my dad said: “I admit it - I’ve never had as high standards for you and your sister as I have had for your brother.” I stared at him, asked him why. He didn’t have to think about it. “Because you’re girls.” When I told him that that hurt my feelings, he shrugged, dug his fork into his chicken, and changed the subject.

I need feminism because my mom - the strongest woman I know - a woman I love and look up to - a superwoman who went through med school while she was pregnant with my brother and worked two jobs while raising all three of us - my mom, who brings home three times as much money as my father because of how hard she works, and who not only supports all of us financially but emotionally, but who is not considered the leader of the family based solely on the fact that she is a woman - this wonderful woman, whom I love, was at the clinic in her boss’s office to file some paperwork, and her boss, a man in his 40’s, reached over her shoulder and turned the lights off and tried to kiss her. He’s married, has three kids, and his wife is dying of leukemia. Let me repeat that - dying of leukemia. My mom happened to be wearing a knee-length skirt with sensible socks, and her boss said to her: “You’re getting a little old for that sexy schoolgirl look, don’t you think?” She’s 40 years old.

She came home, angry as a hornet, and told me this while making the family’s dinner. Rage boiled up inside me - how could he? Here she was, her eyes red-rimmed from crying, her back to me, her tired, arthritic hands preparing food for us, and she was so stressed that red blotches were appearing on her neck. She’s has minor heart problems before from stress. She is beginning to smoke and drink a whole lot more and cry a whole lot more than she used to. She’s sad and lonely and wishes she didn’t have to work so much because she wants to spend time with our family. And she doesn’t need this. She is a human being. She never indicated any interest to this man. He treated her, not as a human being, but as a doll or a fruit that he could reach out and take. It took me a few minutes to swallow this. When I could speak, I asked her if she reported the incident to HR, and she said no. Because “this is just the way men are.”

I need feminism because while this may be the way SOME men are, this is not an excuse for human beings to intimidate or attempt to dehumanize/objectify the human beings they work with.

I need feminism because I have a little sister and she’s 17 and has body image issues. She reads a magazine directed at girls her age and I’m pretty sure that the pages and pages of scantily clad preteens and teens coated with makeup and the heartwarming advice such as “10 signs he’s sneakily lying to you” or “15 ways to get a flat tummy FAST!” are not helping her out. I need feminism because my little sister is not only sensitive and kind and big-hearted but smart. Really smart. She’s in the top 2% GPA at her high school. She’s going to get into any college she wants, but she wants to go to the same college that her boyfriend is going to. She has the same analytical mind I have and the same tendency to internalize stress and beat herself up about it. Add this to the fact that she also happens to be gorgeous by society’s narrow standards. She is scrutinized by her “friends” and stared at by middle aged men and criticized and worshiped and fawned over. Not because of her heart, but because of her appeance. My little sister is the kindest person I know, but all people can ask her at school is “How is your boyfriend?” and “When are you guys getting married?” and “Oh my god, where did you get that shirt?” Not “How are you?” or “What dreams do you have?” I need feminism because I love her so much and I want her to believe that her inherent worth is not a result of her winning the genetic lottery. I need feminism because I want her to embrace herself, inside and out, and LOVE and respect her body but love herself even more. I need feminism because I don’t want her to ask me “Am I fat?” again. She’s the exact height and weight of a model, but that fact and then numbers supporting it should not matter to her or anyone else.

I need feminism because it is up to us to reach out to young women, young men, and everyone we know. We need to believe that our worth does not lie in our appearance, sperm count, babymaking ability, stretchmarks or lack thereof, or lolita-esque sex appeal. My dad needs feminism. My mom needs feminism. My mom’s boss needs feminism. And my sister needs feminism. Because we are not dolls, babymakers, baby incubators, or robots. We’re all human beings with hopes and feelings and aspirations and fiercely beating hearts.