According to Gloria Steinem, "A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle." Until I see salmon pedaling upstream on tiny Schwinns, I'm going to have to disagree. Women without men are many things: independent, healthy, fulfilled. But some are also lonely. Fish don't need bicycles; bikes don't talk or kiss, or drive you to the airport. But people, men included, need other people; and no one can exist without community. We need connections and contact. Men are not enemies, free radicals or even free sex. They are 50 percent of our communities, and they are important. Most women interact with men daily, and as they become our friends, we realize that maybe Steinem was wrong--men and bicycles are nothing alike. My 12-speed has never taken me to a party or dried my tears. My friends have, and they've come in all shapes, colors and yes, genders. I like guys. And dare I say it, they're necessary.
Also necessary is my firm belief in community. That's why I live in the Women's Studies selective living group. It's not because I don't like men, need men or invite men to exist in my life. Yet all too often, because I express an interest in understanding gender dynamics, people think I'm a man-hater who wears combat boots and burns bras. Well, I'll let you in on a little secret: I did attend a bonfire last year. It was for basketball. I didn't burn my bra; I burned a bench, and I did it with a giant group of guy friends.
Many people--girls and guys--work with women's issues on campus. They volunteer at Safe Haven, take Women's Studies classes and support women's sports. The support system for women's issues at Duke is huge. Those involved are crazy, fun, diverse, smart and beautiful. This goes double for my family in Women's Studies. Some people, the ones who have met us, know this. Then there are people like The Guy Who Walked Me Home. He was being a total gentleman--that is, until he got to my front door. "You live in Women's Studies?!" he asked, aghast. "Aha!" he said and glared like a detective, "You're a lesbian!"
If my life had a laugh track, it would start here. I'm not a lesbian. I chose to live in my dorm because it felt like home, not because of my sexual orientation, my major or my politics. It's because I love community, and I have found mine.
Some Duke girls haven't been so lucky. Too often, I hear women say, "I'm not a feminist." Time to cringe. Some claim that outspoken 1970s feminists set the women's movement back by being too vocal. I say what sets it back is silence. All of you "Onot-a-' feminists," listen up: Women at Duke, including you, expect the same rights and privileges as their male peers. With the exception of greek housing (which only grants sections to guys), women at Duke have an equal stake everywhere, and they work hard to make the most of it. From winning tennis matches to discovering chemical compounds, Duke girls do it for themselves. Yet with all their accomplishments, some are afraid to admit that they're independent, strong and even (gasp) feminists. This is a huge problem and a huge shame.
Feminism is not a dirty word. The more public feminists we have, the more the Duke community sees how diverse that word really is. And as far as I'm concerned, if you believe that women should have the same opportunities and quality of life as men, you are a feminist. I hate to break it to you sorority girls campaigning for sections, but guess what? You have joined our bra-burning ranks.
A few months ago, someone told me I wasn't a feminist. When I challenged her, the woman responded, "Oh please; just look at you!" At the time, I just looked down at my Miu Miu wedge-heels, confounded. Later, I felt rage.
There's an unspoken, untrue rule that says femininity and feminism don't go together. Lately it's trapped me in the middle of myself. I like to be "girly," with clothes and makeup, chick flicks and sorority meetings. But I also believe in working for social change. Because of that dichotomy, some people see me as oppressed while claim I'm empowered. I can only claim myself. And that self isn't going to be defined by anyone but me. I'm sorry if I don't conform to your ideals, your fears or your cause. I won't. I'd rather be self-righteous than self-deprived, and if I stay silent, it will only make things worse.
So, here's how to live happily ever after: I'll keep being a feminist, working toward my goals and knowing that my limitations and my sex aren't the same thing. And I'll ask you to picture me in your head. Now envision every woman that works at what she loves and speaks with conviction. We are feminists, and we are all over the place. See, Yo Mama might wear combat boots, but most of us don't.
Last year, senior Alisa Nave invented a project. She walked all over campus, asking people to complete the sentence, "I am a feminist, and _____." I never got to participate in her cause, but if I did, here's what I'd say: I am a feminist, and I dare all of you to discover why you're a feminist, too.
Faran Krentcil is a Trinity junior and trends editor of Recess.
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