feməˌnizəm
the advocacy of women's rights on the grounds of political, social, and economic equality to men.
Just so we're clear. That's what feminism means. I didn't know either until my junior year of college. Skipping class one afternoon, a discussion about NPR led me to a beautiful girl with black hair and a pitcher's arm who would become my best friend. Double majoring in political science and history, then heading to law school, she introduced me to the music of Amy Winehouse, held my hand for hours during a particularly bad trip involving magic mushrooms, and provided a label to the lifestyle I had been living for over twenty years by teaching me the word feminism.
Born the middle child, I was raised in a rough-and-tumble manner since my older sister was prissy and my baby brother didn’t come until a few years later, then had to catch up to the age of mowing the lawn. My childhood was the epitome of All-American nostalgia: bar-be-cues smoking and Bomb Pops dripping, lightning bug catching and dirty knee-skinning, all while clad in Umbro shorts, t-shirts and sneakers. When the first Nintendo came out, one was wrapped under our Christmas tree, and my brother and I fought over turns playing Mario and Street Fighter.
Sports were a way of life growing up. I played soccer for thirteen years, my dad never missing a game, shouting “Be aggressive!” from the sidelines. I remember his white Plymouth nearing our house on the way home after a win and hearing Bob Seger’s ‘Old Time Rock and Roll’ crackle over the airwaves. Spinning the volume knob to the max, he would roll down the windows, shouting “Woo-hoo!” as only he could. “We gotta go around again for this one!” Laughing and smiling, we circled the block three or four times, enjoying the moment and singing at the top of our lungs.
I never had to doll myself up in makeup and flouncy tulle to embark on a creepy “Daddy-Daughter Date' with my father, as seems to be the norm in the new millennium. We just spent time together.
As a kid, my aspirations were to be the first female president of the United States and an author. Assigned to write a book as a year-end project in fifth grade, my classmates turned in five or seven illustration-heavy pages about gymnastics and superheroes. I presented a thirty-page masterpiece about a young girl battling cancer while her parents were in the middle of a bitter divorce, leaving her dog as her only friend. I have no idea where the inspiration for this came from, as it couldn't have been further from the truth of my life, but I've always had an incredible imagination and desire to create.
Education was very important to my tiger-parents and post-secondary education was assumed. I was to be independent and fully capable of taking care of myself. It wasn’t an expected goal, but purely a life necessity. I don’t know that I ever even considered an alternative. I've always possessed a strong sense of self and have never been susceptible to peer pressure. Never. As early on as I can remember, I wore what I wanted to wear, said what I wanted to say, did what I wanted to do, and I didn’t care what anyone thought. My value was intrinsic, untouchable by outside forces.
A tomboy most my life, I was surprised that when I turned 18, it appeared that I went from being one of the guys to being perceived as super-hot – overnight – although I looked and acted the same as ever. From that moment on, I never knew if men were genuinely being friendly or just wanted to sleep with me. It can be an uncomfortable feeling. For years, I worked against my attractiveness. I wanted to be recognized for my personality, intelligence, and abilities – not my appearance. Beauty fades, character doesn’t.
I embodied close to zero 'traditional' feminine attributes when I was propositioned for a modeling contract by Paulie Gibson the agency representative, pre-designer and Project Runway fame. Back then he was just Paul. Sexually objectified against my will on a daily basis anyway, modeling seemed like an easy way to make money off of a curse that often plagued me. Paul spent extra time teaching me by example, the two of us switching off a pair of old blue platform stiletto heels as we stomped up and down his office hallways. I was terrible, but he didn’t give up, no matter how hard my shell was to crack. I ended up a pro with a sassy runway walk, arsenal of flattering poses, and unrivaled ability to smize.
My modeling career was promising but the moment the industry's obsession with rail-thin bodies began to compromise my feelings of self-worth, I was gone in a heartbeat. Modeling had never been a dream of mine, and I had no interest in living up to society's unrealistic expectations of women's appearances. However, Paul taught me a new set of skills that I occasionally employ to help me traverse a still-foreign world to this day.
That learned skill-set is only worthwhile to a certain extent, on a superficial level. My natural state and desire to use my brain to be more than just a pretty object has cost me lots of things, not least of which I once called the love of my life. Although considered “brilliant,” with “incredible inspiring passion,” - as a woman - I was also “too ambitious.”
I've learned the hard way that viewing myself as a human who is not bound by my biology doesn't mesh well with patriarchal society. As difficult as it is going against the grain on a daily basis, I can only be myself. And I wouldn't want it any other way.
#emilycarpenter #americanfemale #feminism #kathleenhanna #bikinikill #rebelgirl #grrrl #npr #america #nintendo #umbro #soccer #bobseger #beauty #tomboy #character #pauliegibson #smize #ambition #patriarchy #againstthegrain #IDGAF #human