 |
| Image by Julie Jordan Scott via Flickr/Creative Commons |
If you know me well, then you probably know that I'm a feminist. Actually, even if you don't know me well you probably know I'm a feminist. My students seem to figure this out about me one week into the school year as if it's oozing from my pores. Even the Twitter robots seem to know I'm a feminist, often placing feminist bloggers, writers and organizations in my "Who to follow" list.
Despite all this I've had trouble committing to truly being a feminist blogger. I'm a feminist and I'm a blogger but I've always doubted if I could or should call myself a feminist blogger. I've told myself I can't be a real feminist blogger because I don't have a degree in women's studies, because I don't know enough about politics, and because I'm not in the online feminist in-crowd.
Sometimes I wonder if I even want to be a feminist blogger. Do I want to feel responsible for writing about about every stupid thing clueless politicians say about women and our bodies? That's a lot to keep up with these days. I do have a full-time job, you know. And besides, writing about that all the time could get pretty depressing.
So I considered billing myself as "the joyful feminist," and focusing on positive, uplifting feminist news, but I'm not sure I can live up to that either because sometimes I need to vent. Sometimes I need to bitch and moan about the stupid things clueless politicians say about women and our bodies. Sometimes I need to complain about the way women are represented in magazines, movies, and music videos.
And furthermore, how do I balance this all with my desire to blog about writing?
I've been blogging for over four years and I still don't feel I've found my place here in the blogosphere. And honestly, I'm a bit angry with myself about that. For the past four years I've had a long list of blogging goals that I have failed to achieve because I've just been revving my engine instead of really getting in the race. But I guess I feel that before I can get started I need to make sure I'm in the right lane.
I think you can be a joyful feminist and still address the stupid things that people say. The thing that sets you apart is that, even when you are critical (in the best sense of the word), you remain positive. Easy to rant, not as easy to remain constructive. You do. Plus the South can always use a woman who identifies herself as a feminist. I'll keep reading!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Erin! That's actually really helpful. I appreciate your input.
Delete1. I've got a degree in advertising, and I'm writing alongside a lawyer and a sex worker at a blog founded by a single mother who didn't have a degree but did have an interest in feminism, class, and teen parenthood. It's not about education--it's about paying attention and caring. The education will come.
ReplyDelete2. Like Erin said, the South can always use another woman who identifies as feminist. When I started writing for Feministe, I was shocked at the number of readers who "came out" as southern after I did. As conservative and anachronistic as the South sometimes seems to the rest of the country, it's valuable for non-southerners and for southern women to hear southern feminist voices.
3. Joyful feminism is one of the most important kinds. There will never be a lack of crappy things to rant about, of course, but there will also be plenty of women to write about them. Being a source of both realism and hope can be a very powerful thing. And if, on occasion, you need to vent or gripe or moan or shout? Do it. It's your freakin' blog, and you get to write what you want. Tag your rants "Javacia Is Mad as Hell" and let readers skip over them if they don't want to hear you rant.
4. You're smart and thoughtful. You're a good listener and responder. You have perspectives as a southerner, a woman of color, a married woman, a Christian, and an educator. You have both the desire and the motivation to help people. I'm going to stop now before it starts to sound like I'm sucking up. If you decide you don't want to do this, of course you're not required. But if you do, you're absolutely capable and valuable.
I have a confession. I was really, really hoping you would read this because you have successfully established yourself as a feminist blogger and I really wanted your input. Thanks so much for your kind and encouraging words. They really meant a lot.
DeleteI can totally relate.
ReplyDeleteI need The Ben Franklin Follies to let me explore topics that interest me. I don't fit into pigeon-holes and silos. Neither did Benjamin Franklin, which explains why he's my inspiration.
It's a bit ironic (or maybe just coincidental) but BFF is helping me find a way to focus--through other websites and venues. That's what I'm working on. BFF is my playground, other web venues will serve specific audiences. Several projects in the works. I'd like to talk with you about one of them.
The main thing is that you need to write about whatever it is that you need to write about. If it's about being a feminist in the South, then go there. As others have pointed out, we need more women like you (and Erin) in the South.
Thanks so much, Sheree. I really appreciate your feedback and I'd love to talk to you about the projects you have in the works.
DeleteDitto what Erin said. Your voice is so unique and, no matter what lane you're in, you always present an authentic perspective. People respond to that. Period.
ReplyDeleteThanks, LK. You ladies are such a great support network!
DeleteA few months back I had a moment where I thought about how and if I wanted to take my blog into a different direction. I thought about doing "mommy blogging" but that didn't really work out. So, I just decided to just stick with.. just blogging. Just writing and sharing what I feel on my own personal space.
ReplyDeleteI've struggled with finding my own niche. I used to just write. But then, when I went through my divorce I fell silent, for the most part. When I came back, I came back feeling more vocal, but afraid of losing the remains of the audience that I once had (my voice was much different from when I'd fallen silent)...
ReplyDeleteMy point -- I relate. But you have such a way with words. And so many of us are drawn to that.
Just write. You do it so well!
Thanks, Karla. That means a lot.
Delete