Meshel Laurie

Date

March 2, 2014

Would the real feminists of Australia please stand up?

“My Twitter feed is a feminist battleground at times”  ¢â‚¬ ¦ Meshel Laurie.  Photo: Mike Baker. Hair & make-up by Trish Sousa

Do you believe all people are equal? Do you believe women are people? If you answered “yes” to both, congratulations! You are a feminist.

As contemporary quizzes go, it’s probably a bit anti-climactic. It’s definitely not as Facebookable as the ones that tell you what  Game of Thrones  character you’d be (I’d be Khal Drogo – excellent), or what exotic city you really belong in (LA? No way), or what your pet says about you (nothing – he can’t talk). Yet I like it because it cuts to the heart of what I believe to be a very simple matter. I’m sad to say, however, that my fellow online femos couldn’t disagree with me more, or more aggressively.

At one end of the spectrum are the young women who refuse to identify themselves as feminists at all. It’s not surprising, I suppose, given that some of their favourite gals – who are among the most successful humans, if fame and fortune are our measures – eschew the word with reassuring determination.

“I am not a feminist, but I do believe in the strength of women,” says Katy Perry. What? Those whipped-cream cannons exploding from your bosoms weren’t ironic? Oh, man!

I thought they were whimsical warheads in the battle against the homogenisation of young female artists. Don’t panic, though, we still have Lady Gaga’s meat dress – that’ll teach the sexist media.

“I’m not a feminist,” says Lady Gaga. “I hail men, I love men, I celebrate American male culture: beer, bars and muscle cars.” Well, I’ve officially put my paws down. You don’t have to dislike men to be a feminist, you twit! For the love of God, somebody get me Beyonc ƒ ©.

“I guess I am a modern-day feminist. I do believe in equality …” I should have known Queen Beyonc ƒ © would have the you-know-whats to stand tall for our team. “That word [feminism] can be very extreme,” she adds. Ugh. You won’t even repeat the word, B? Where my (feminist) bitches at? Every time one of these successful, educated, entitled Western women has denounced feminism, I have tweeted my disgust and – unequivocal about my feelings – have often used the word “pathetic”.

My argument has rolled along these lines: it’s pathetic to denounce the title our foremothers fought for and the freedoms they won for us to enjoy today. It’s pathetic to disassociate yourselves from the real, ongoing international struggle. It’s pathetic to ignore the fundamental definition of the word, and to capitulate instead to those who falsely endow it with negative qualities like “man-hating”.

Every time I’ve tweeted about it, I’ve been bombarded by argumentative replies from young women telling me they’re not feminists, either, so I must think they’re pathetic, too. Yes, I suppose I must, and it’s that attitude that places me unhappily at the other end of the spectrum – the battle for Feminist Supremacy.

My Twitter feed is a feminist battleground at times. This one reckons that one’s choking on meaningless outrage and petty gestures. That one reckons this one’s a professional pest with too much time on her hands and a well-thumbed thesaurus. Several are beyond criticism, as their well-trained acolytes will harass detractors into silence. Who needs a patriarchal paradigm with sisters like these?

The accusation of hypocrisy is the AK-47 in the online feminist’s arsenal. It’s ubiquitous and never fails. “She says she’s a feminist and yet she does/says/thinks/appears tothink/tweets/Facebooks/reads/watches/
is friends with/stands next to someone who …? ATTACK!”

Around and around it goes, perpetuating stereotypes and sucking the oxygen out of a conversation and a medium with limitless possibilities for embracing and empowering women. Is it any wonder that young women, who are generally enthusiastic users of social media, find it all a bit feral?

I’m sure I’m not the only woman who followed and friended the leading lights of Australian feminism online, only to discover that on any given day I’m just as likely to witness a snarly slap-down as a celebration of sisterhood. I entered the fray in the early days, defending the credentials of friends and mentors against each other’s criticisms, until I was overcome by the futility of it all. I was also sick of vicious tweets from people who’d likely never heard of me, but had been rallied to fight against me by someone I’d challenged.

I heard an analogy recently that changed my attitude to online infighting forever.

When a monkey at the zoo throws poo at you, you don’t throw poo back. It’ll just pique the interest of other monkeys, who’ll join in, because that’s what they do. When it’s all over, it won’t matter who was right and who was wrong, because everyone will be covered in poo.

I’ve realised with much embarrassment that I was happy to sling a bit of the old you-know-what for a while there – i.e. I was a bitchy internet feminist. It was kind of rotten of me to pick fights with young women because I’d decided they weren’t feminist enough, and

I’d like to take this opportunity to apologise, although I don’t suppose it’s keeping Katy, Gaga or Beyonc ƒ © awake at night.

What irritates me most is that I spent so much time trying to ingratiate myself with exclusive female friendship cliques under the guise of declaring my membership to the feminist movement. Now that’s really pathetic.