The F-word

There's been an ongoing discussion over the past couple days, spawned by the lovely Sarah about the big F-word. Feminism.

International Women's Day seems to have gotten more than a few of us thinking about feminism: where it's going, where it's been, and if we agree. I've already blabbered on enough both in Sarah's comments and on the 20-Something Bloggers' discussion board.

To sum things up: yeah, I'm a feminist. I think that all women are, deep down. Feminism, to me, is not about refusing to shave your legs, or burning your bras -- I would fail miserably if that were the case. It's about wanting the best for all women (and even men). It's about standing up and supporting other women around you. It's about the desire not necessarily to be treated exactly the same as men, but to be given the same consideration, respect and opportunity. It's about being able to make your own choices and be confident in those decisions. It's about being able to walk down the street with your head held high because yes, you can do anything you set your mind to.

All this talk about the F-word has taken me back to my undergrad days. I minored in philosophy, because I'm somewhat of a nerd and I found that a lot of my electives quickly became philosophy courses. Those philosophy courses included women's studies and feminist philosophy and both enraged and thrilled me (which is probably why I kept enrolling in them).

One of the best things I took from my first year women's studies course was this poem:

Phenomenal Woman

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I'm not cute or built to suit a fashion model's size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I'm telling lies.
I say,
It's in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It's the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can't touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can't see.
I say,
It's in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Now you understand
Just why my head's not bowed.
I don't shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It's in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
The palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
'Cause I'm a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That's me.

Maya Angelou