Talking about Feminism...

I was overseas when Prime Minister Julia Gillard made her, now famous, misogyny speech to the Australian Parliament in October last year. It made an impact in Dublin, where I watched it late in the evening and I understand it was a similar sensation worldwide.

Back in Australia I find a country significantly energised by the debate on the role and mission of feminism in the public discourse. Movements such as 'Destroy The Joint' and large, social media driven responses to sexist comments by prominent radio announcers signal a refusal to tolerate a masculocentric view of the world.

But I'm a guy; do I have anything to contribute to 21st century feminism?

Man vs. Woolf

This question has plagued me since high school, maybe uni; whenever I first read Germaine Greer and Virginia Woolf. They opened my eyes to how fucked up men can make women's lives. My reading taught me a little on the notion of a dominate discourse and how minds, attitudes, opinions might be shaped simply by the way we talk about the world.

Virginia Woolf railed against the cacophony of male voices all trying to neatly encapsulate women. A litany of voices, pulled from all walks of life, spoke relentlessly with barely a voice raised against them. Woolf believed in an alternate discourse, created by women.

But to honour all voices some must be quietened.

An example...

Yesterday I went on a training course. In one of my non-blogging incarnations I'm a bartender and this was a cocktail making course, so nothing too strenuous.

Attending the course were about eighteen bartenders from around Sydney. Of our little group only four were female, so not quite 25%. Our instructor was a brand manager from the company running the course. Helping her were other brand managers from the company, again the female ratio was approximately 25%.

At one point during the training our instructor turned and thanked one of the guys for cleaning and clearing the bar while she made the drinks. He turned and responded in a mock, high-pitched voice mumming a maid. It got a huge laugh from the floor.

It was standard, bad pantomime aimed to keep the session light. That's what everyone responded to, with our instructor laughing alongside. On the other hand there was an implicit reinforcement in the mock-female voice that cleaning is predominately a woman's job.

Now I didn't jump up and shout "HOLD ON! Stop oppressing women and reinforcing the dominant discourse!" I'm not sure the crowd would even know what I was going on about. I didn't laugh either, I just sat there and thought about how deeply some of our prejudices go. It wasn't really my place anyway. Our instructor carried on and we all learned some new practical skills, even if some jibes continued.

If men are to contribute in a constructive way to feminist discourse it seems we may have to delve into our subconscious acts before attempting to make any conscious effort. By clearing away some of our assumptions we create the space to hear new ideas. By keeping our mouths shut when they might otherwise flap open we can create the space for those ideas to be spoken.