Tag: Feminism

• Green, Gold and Bold: The Matilda Resilience

  September 5, 2023 4:21 pm Comments Off on Green, Gold and Bold: The Matilda Resilience

  Over the last month, all of Australia has had their eyes on the women’s football team, the Matildas, as they progressed against some of the strongest soccer teams in the world. The Matildas’ powerful performance in this year’s World Cup has been capturing hearts across the nation, with over 7 million people tuning in to see them take on the French. The match, which ultimately resulted in the longest penalty shootout in World Cup history (men’s or women’s), only left fans even more eager for their match against the English, where Channel 7 alone recorded 11 million individual views. 
  While so much can be said about the incredible performance of the Tillies on the field, it is their stories off the field that make them even more remarkable. Some of you may know Hayley Raso as the girl with the ribbon, who scored two goals in Australia’s historic win over Olympic champions Canada, and then another against Denmark. Five years ago, however, Raso was told that she may never walk again. While playing in the National Women’s Soccer League, Raso suffered a freak accident, leaving her with a broken back. Just six months later, however, Raso was back representing Australia again, and scored a goal in her first 3 minutes back on the pitch. Ellie Carpenter’s story is similarly inspiring, returning to the Pitch for Australia just over 8 months after tearing her ACL last year.
  Katrina Gorry is another such remarkable player, 48 hours before Australia played France, Gorry’s fiancé, Swedish footballer Clara Markstedt who had travelled down under to support Gorry, lost her father. Despite this personal loss, Gorry remained rock-solid in the game, and scored a must-win penalty against France. Had Gorry missed that penalty, Australia would have faced defeat against Les Bleues right then. In 2014, Gorry considered retiring from football because she couldn’t afford to continue playing, with the Matildas paid significantly less than the Socceroos, andAustralia is incredibly lucky that she didn’t. According to FIFA, Gorry had a stunning 59 tackles, the highest number of tackles in the tournament. That’s potentially 59 goals that Gorry has saved. Among the Tillies, Gorry has also had the second highest number of shots on goal. She also covered the most ground of any player at the World Cup, a staggering 57.68km. Gorry’s game-saving penalty kick also rocketed in at a staggering 106.3 km/hr. She is rapid, strong, and knows exactly where to be on the field. She is also considered to be a massive team support by everyone, with young Matilda Kyra Cooney-Cross crediting Gorry for making her feel confident. Adding another achievement to her belt, Gorry is also a single parent to adorable baby Harper. Gorry has proved to be invaluable both on and off the pitch, and is truly a player that makes you wonder, how does she do it all?
  The list of stories that make up the Matildas is beyond inspiring. Mary Fowler, who has provided the most incredible assists this tournament, is only 20 years old. Sam Kerr and Steph Catley have been so graciously co-captaining the team, maintaining that it’s not about one of them, but instead about all of them. Coach Tony Gustavsson also echoed this, saying that the Matildas have all been putting in the same amount of effort, regardless of the amount of time they expected to play. With five squad members that did not play a minute this World Cup, and another three that played a combined total of 20 minutes, it is very impressive to see players putting the team before themselves. The Matildas are not only here to play, but they know they are part of something bigger. 
  The drive to leave a legacy in this World Cup was echoed by players throughout the tournament, and it was profoundly clear after Australia’s semi-final loss to the Lionesses. Despite being devastated, the Tillies, led by captain Sam Kerr, immediately used their platform to call for greater funding for football, down to the grassroots level. They knew they had the momentum to be more than just an inspiration. Not only did they help achieve the highest viewership and revenue ever for the FIFA Women’s World Cup ( a whopping $887 million), but the government also announced a $200 million dollar investment into women’s sport following the Tillies’ success. The Matildas helped catalyse change that will support decades of women across the country. 
  Many footballers, including Brazilian star Marta and Australian defender Ellie Carpenter, have spoken at length about how they had no female football role models growing up. How wonderful that for millions of young girls in Australia and overseas, the Matildas are now changing that.

  Isha Singhal

• It Is Time for Change

  April 1, 2021 12:53 pm Comments Off on It Is Time for Change

  ⽇日本には、男⼥女女間の不不平等の深い歴史がある。残念ながら、この歴史は今⽇日にまで⾄至り、⼥女女性は 労働⼒力力で成功するために、奮闘し続けている。毎年年、世界経済フォーラムは経済、政治、教育、 健康の4つの分野のデータから分析されて、各国のジェンダー平等の進展を評価している。2020 年年のレポートによると、⽇日本の順位は153か国中121位で、しかも2019年年に⽇日本の順位は153 か国中110位だったと⾔言う。⽇日本に男⼥女女共同参画が繁栄するためには、何が求められるだろう か。⽇日本の性差別的イデオロギーに「続けている」ことをやめるようにどうやって挑戦すること ができるでしょうか?
  ⽇日本にジェンダーの不不平等が存在する理理由を理理解するには、始めに、⽇日本でジェンダーを取り巻 くイデオロギーを⽀支えてきた歴史を明らかにする。⽇日本は歴史的に⺟母系制の社会だったが、江戸 時代に儒教が興った際に、男性の⽀支配と階層は、社会で⼥女女性の⼒力力を低下させた。これが「家制度」 の始まりを示した。⻄西洋史でジェンダーの役割と同様に、「家制度」とは、⼥女女性は家事をしたり、 男性が家族を⽀支えるために働ったりすることを⾔言う。これは⽇日本⼈人⼥女女性の⽣生活の多くの⾯面に影響 を与えた。例例えば、⼥女女性の新しい役割は、⼦子供、特に男性の⼦子供を産み、夫に仕えることだった。 ⽇日本は多くの先進国よりもはるかに遅れて、「家制度」を紹介したので、⽇日本社会でジェンダー の不不平等がどのように続いているかを理理解するのは簡単だと思う。理理解できるということは、⾔言 い訳ができるという意味ではありません。
  では、今⽇日の⽇日本の歴史はどのように社会に現れているのでしょうか。
  ⽇日本⼈人の外国⼈人労働者が書いた「我慢」の概念についての報告を⾒見見つけました。「我慢」とは、 あなたは不不快にさせても、笑顔で耐えるべきだという考えだ。「我慢」という⾔言葉の意味は、⽇日 本で働く⾃自分の将来を悲しく思う。⻄西洋社会では、⼈人々は⼤大声で⾃自分の意⾒見見を共有するように教 えられています。⽇日本のジェンダーの不不平等の⼤大きな理理由は個⼈人的な意⾒見見の拒絶だと思う。⽇日本 は、ジェンダーの平等が当たり前になるまでには⻑⾧長い道のりがあります。 2013年年、安倍晋三⾸首相 は「ウーマノミクス戦略略」と呼ばれる国家⽬目標を発表し、2020年年までに⽇日本企業で⼥女女性が企業の 指導的役割の30%を割りたが、それから、2020年年には、⼥女女性はこれらの役割の5%しか割りてい なかった。⽇日本は急速に成功していませんが、変化はあり得ると思う。
  ⼥女女性が⽇日本で認識されて、地位を⾼高めるには、さまざまな⽅方法があると信じる。多くの報告は、 政治における⼥女女性の割合の増加を中⼼心に⽇日本のジェンダー不不平等の問題を解決するの結論づけて いる。現在、BBCニュースによると、衆議院議員の10%だけが⼥女女性だを⾔言う。より多くの⼥女女性が 政治に参加すれば、するほど⼥女女性の権利利のために戦うことができるでしょう。
  ⽇日本で、伝統的なジェンダー役割に基づいた無意識の偏⾒見見や社会の期待が多いだ。ジェンダーの 不不平等の問題が変わらないものなら、⽇日本の未来は明るくなさそう。⼥女女性が⼀一緒に⽴立ち、⽇日本の ジェンダーの不不公正について発⾔言すれば、私たちはもはや 「続けている」 必要はありません。
   
  ***
  Japan has a deep history of gender inequality. Unfortunately, this history continues to this day, with many women struggling to succeed in the workforce. Each year, the World Economic Forum analyses data from four areas: economics, politics, education, and health which together assess the progress of gender equality in each country. According to the 2020 report, Japan ranked 121st out of 153 countries, and in 2019, Japan ranked 110th out of 153 countries. What is required for gender equality to prosper in Japan? How can we challenge Japan’s sexist ideology to stop “keeping on”?
  To understand why gender inequality exists so strongly in Japan, I first want to clarify the history that has underpinned this social ideology in Japan.
  Japan has historically been a matrilineal society, but when Confucianism emerged during the Edo period, male rule and hierarchy reduced the power of women in society. This marked the beginning of the “family system”. Similar to the role of gender in Western history, the “family system” refers to women completing household chores and men working to support their families. This has significantly influenced many aspects of life for Japanese women. For example, the new role of women was to give birth to children, in particular male children, and to serve their husbands (author’s note: gross). As Japan introduced the “family system” much later than many developed countries, it’s understandable that gender inequality continues in Japanese society. Understandable does not mean excusable.
  So, how has Japan’s history manifested in society today?
  I found a report describing a concept known as “endurance”, written by a foreign worker in Japan. “Endurance” is the idea that you should carry on with a smile, even if it makes you uncomfortable. The meaning behind the word “endurance” makes me sad about my future working in Japan. In Western societies, people are taught to share their opinions loudly and freely. I think a core cause of the sustained gender inequities in Japan is the suppression of personal opinions.
  Japan has a long way to go before gender equality becomes the norm. In 2013, Prime Minister Shinzo Abe announced a national goal called the “Womenomics Strategy,” which stated by 2020, women should hold 30 percent of the corporate leadership roles in Japanese companies, yet when 2020 arrived, women held only 5percent  of these roles. Japan has not seen rapid success, but I think things can change.
  I believe there are many ways for women to be recognised and empowered in Japan. Many reports conclude that Japan’s gender inequality problem will be resolved by focusing on increasing the proportion of women in politics. Currently, according to BBC News, only 10 percent of members in Japan’s House of Representative are women. The more women participate in politics, the more women will be able to fight for their rights in Japan.
  In Japan, there are many unconscious prejudices and social expectations based on traditional gender roles. If the issue of gender inequality remains the same, Japan’s future is unlikely to be bright. If women stand together and speak up about the gender injustice in Japan, we will no longer have to keep on keeping on with gender inequality.
   

  Saskia O’George

• The Productivity Myth?

  March 14, 2021 5:26 pm Comments Off on The Productivity Myth?

  2020 was a tough year in just about every respect. The difficulty of adjusting to online classes, long periods of uncertainty, time apart from loved ones, and heightened anxiety all reared their ugly heads simultaneously. After pushing through to the end of the academic year and finally submitting that last exam to Turnitin, the first thing most of us wanted was a break. No commitments, no routine, just doing whatever we felt like. A proper summer holiday to recoup and prepare for the new year.
  Unfortunately, my brain doesn’t seem to appreciate this sort of thing. Instead, after a day or two of trying to live without structure and routine, I tend to find myself itching to open up my diary and write up a to-do list. At first, I thought that this was just a neurotic gene that I unfortunately ended up with. YetI’m starting to realise that it’s more likely to be a symptom of unfettered capitalism rudely weaselling its way into my holiday time and making me feel guilty for being ‘unproductive’.
  And yet it doesn’t even work. Ever-lengthening to-do lists become another reason to feel guilty about a lack of productivity, rather than a spur to action. This sense of paralysis is often a symptom of burnout, which is driven by the deep internalisation of the idea that we should be ‘productive’ all the time.  
  When I think about burnout, I think about Yahoo CEO Marissa Meyers’ interview with Bloomberg where she embodied the toxic ‘performative workaholic’ persona, saying, “’Could you work 130 hours in a week?’” The answer is yes, if you’re strategic about when you sleep, when you shower, and how often you go to the bathroom.” 
  I also think about Sheryl Sandberg’s myopic “lean in” brand of white “feminism” that tries to teach women about how to get ahead in the corporate world, and I think about Michelle Obama’s response to it – “that shit don’t work all the time.”
  And she’s right – it doesn’t work all the time. Or any of the time, for most women. But the privileged few who are able to fully ‘lean in’, unencumbered by the structural barriers that make it impossible for everyone else, are certainly still susceptible to burnout. The urge to discern oneself through ‘leaning in’ aligns with Boltanski and Chiapello’s thesis that the ‘new spirit of capitalism’ is one which is network-based, rather than hierarchical, and focuses more on individuality and autonomy in the workplace. The supposed ‘freedom’ from the stifling, grey corporate career path of the twentieth century has transformed into precarious contract work, uncertain career paths, the casualisation of the workforce, and ultimately a generation whose working lives are characterised by anxiety and insecurity. This neoliberal false narrative of worker autonomy and ‘leaning in’ therefore becomes one where the individual is fully responsible for their productivity and success in the workplace. The ‘lean in’, #girlboss culture that Meyers and Sandberg advocate for valourises and fully embraces this ‘new spirit of capitalism’, while blatantly ignoring the consequential mass burnout and risk of worsening the mental health epidemic facing young people today. 
  Also, no, ‘self-care’ as we know it isn’t the answer either. This industry is born from the very same culture of individuated productivity that creates the problem, and then distracts you from the subsequent burnout by selling you bubble baths and candles. As it stands, it’s a $14 billion industry that does little more than provide another way to exploit our obsession with self-improvement and turn a neat profit. As nice as a face mask or weighted blanket is, it’s not the solution to chronic burnout or the overwhelming sense of paralysis that arises when faced with any task – it’s little more than a band-aid on a bullet hole.
  Self-care can also quickly fall into being another line on the to-do list; another thing to worry about ticking off, rather than something to distract from all the other incomplete items on the list. Companies are finding new ways to commodify what we do outside of what is deemed traditionally “productive” in a market economy. Apple Watches now track mindful “breathing minutes” alongside other statistics like daily step counts, while a study done on Fitbits found that 30% of the 200 participants felt that the device was their “enemy” and made them feel guilty, and 59% felt that they were ‘controlled’ by it. 
  Even the suggestion of “taking some time for self-care” is starting to sound like a tacked-on, empty catchphrase. It’s been thrown in at the end of ANU student leadership training more times than I can count, but the discussions that follow never manage to move beyond face masks and tea. This completely fails to prevent hundreds of Senior Residents and student leaders from the wave of burnout that hit sometime around the beginning of Semester 2 each year. 
  There is no shortcut to solving this, but certainly the first step is realising that ‘self-care’ as we know it won’t fix chronic burnout – we need to adequately fund professional support. The second, more crucial step is working out how to unravel the total identification of productivity with virtue that we have been fed for our entire lives.
   
   
  Think your name would look good in print? Woroni is always open for submissions. Email write@woroni.com.au with a pitch or draft. You can find more info on submitting here.

  Isabella Keith

• The Cost of Not Educating Girls

  October 19, 2020 8:26 pm Comments Off on The Cost of Not Educating Girls

  At a time when Australian universities are facing devastating budget cuts, taking a closer look at the long-term consequences of directing funding away from education is essential. Investing in education secures the future economic health of a country. Although slashing university finances may seem a tempting option to save money now, the cost of making education inaccessible, particularly to women, will likely be detrimental for decades to come. Australia may not immediately incur the worst consequences of limiting access to education, but the sobering realities currently playing out elsewhere around the world should serve as a stark reminder of how much we stand to lose.
  October 11 marked International Day of the Girl Child. This year, it was a day of especially solemn reflection. The World Bank estimates that the COVID-19 pandemic will push an additional ~100 million people into extreme poverty in 2020, causing concern that global poverty will increase for the first time since 1998. Consequently, girls from poverty-stricken families are being forced out of school and into marriage or work—to the extent that 25 years of progress towards ending child marriage threatens to be undone by COVID-19. The United Nations expects an additional 13 million child marriages to take place over the next decade as a result of the pandemic. Indeed, this ramification of COVID-19 is one of the most dire and severe.
  Worldwide, more than 130 million girls are out of school and two-thirds of the world’s illiterate adults are women. Educating girls not only changes the lives of those girls—it also uplifts their families, communities, and countries. Prioritising girls’ education has a ‘multiplier effect’, ensuring women are able to lead safer, more autonomous lives, increase their earning potential, and invest in their children and communities by encouraging the cycle of education to continue. It is widely acknowledged that educating women is the most powerful way to address poverty, but ironically, poverty remains the most critical factor in determining whether a girl will have access to education.
  For every extra year of education that a girl receives, her earning potential increases by 10-25%, and an educated woman invests nearly all (90%) of her income into her family and community. Increasing the proportion of educated women has shown to encourage economic growth through increased incomes. Having millions more educated women means having a stronger workforce, with the potential to add up to $12 trillion USD to the global economy. Furthermore, educated girls are healthier citizens who raise healthier families. As such, educating girls contributes to reduced rates of maternal and infant mortality as well as reduced incidence of malaria and HIV/AIDS.
  It may interest Australians that supporting girls’ education in developing countries is of global benefit. The consequences of unequal access to education are not issues only affecting far-away, low-income nations. Educating women has a positive impact on agricultural production, thereby increasing global food security. That the 2020 Nobel Peace Prize was awarded to the World Food Programme is evidence that combating hunger is currently one of the most pressing international concerns. Conveniently, it is yet another issue that can be mitigated through educating girls. When women are included in a country’s policy-making process, decisions in the interest of mitigating climate change are more likely to be made. Unsurprisingly, the Brookings Institution has identified high school education for girls as the most cost-effective strategy to combat climate change.
  Educating girls has also been suggested to increase a country’s resilience against natural disasters and public health emergencies. This year we’ve seen that countries with female leaders (e.g. Taiwan, New Zealand, and Germany) have been significantly more successful in addressing the challenges presented by the current global pandemic. Certainly, this is an excellent demonstration of what happens when women are given equal opportunity to learn and to lead.
  Nevertheless, in many countries, particularly in South Asian and African countries, biases against girls are rife in schooling systems. This is largely a consequence of deep-seated cultural perspectives on gender roles. In many societies plagued by poverty, traditional values emphasise a woman as the homemaker solely responsible for caring for her children. Again, there is irony in the fact that these cultural norms making women the bedrock of society—and therefore, causing a woman’s level of education to more strongly influence the prosperity of the next generation than a man’s—actively discourage girls from attending school. An educated mother is more than twice as likely to send her children to school than a woman who was denied an education. Other factors hindering girls’ access to education are period stigma and lack of information about menstrual hygiene. Even when girls are educated about their periods, sanitary products are often unaffordable, forcing girls to skip school while menstruating.
  As students at ANU, most of us acknowledge how lucky we are to have access to the exceptional opportunities and the world-class education we enjoy—even if 2020 has brought significant challenges and endless Zoom meetings. Nevertheless, we can simultaneously be angry and concerned about the wide-reaching damage that reduced funding to universities will cause, particularly given that the students who will suffer most are those who are already significantly disadvantaged.
  With the end of semester drawing closer, bringing with it the stress of final exams and consecutive deadlines, we should still take the time to remember how many girls are denied even the chance to finish high school simply because they were born female. I encourage everyone to channel the frustration this should stir in you into action that advances the education of those denied the opportunities we enjoy as students in Australia, while also advocating for the protection of our own education system. Indeed, education should be a right, not a privilege.
  If you want to learn about what Australian charities are doing to prevent girls from being locked out of education and how you can help, have a look at the work being done by some of the below organisations:
  One Girl Australia: https://www.onegirl.org.au/
  School for Life Foundation: https://www.schoolforlife.org.au/
  Share the Dignity: https://www.sharethedignity.org.au/
  Room to Read: https://www.roomtoread.org/
   
   
  Think your name would look good in print? Woroni is always open for submissions. Email write@woroni.com.au with a pitch or draft. You can find more info on submitting here.

  Ruth Purcell

• A Second-Wave Feminist Take on Family Planning

  July 26, 2019 1:03 pm Comments Off on A Second-Wave Feminist Take on Family Planning

   
  CONTENT WARNINGS: Abortion, Sex, Transphobia, Cisnormative Language
  Feminist writer Germaine Greer published her second edition of Sex and Destiny in 1986. She says in the book that in the modern world (that is to say, the Westernised and global present) that we have lost touch with our senses of self. According to Greer, women who become pregnant and have children become isolated because society does not value children. Thus, a woman’s sexual identity has changed since the past when the whole community would help to raise children, and a woman’s ability to reproduce was valued.
  In this volume, Greer discusses gender roles in many different cultures around the world, but she focuses on Western culture. She mentions that in traditional European societies, a relationship would arise from a prolonged courtship that would have been sanctioned by the community to which they belonged. Men would feel that they had to control women’s reproduction due to their usage of the withdrawal method and abstinence. On the other hand, women would have a long period of time to familiarise themselves with their respective sexual partners. This way, the two people in the relationship would be able to start their own family with the support of the community around them and the resources to bring up their children.
  I think that in the modern context we can adapt this way of doing things. However, this should depend upon: how long it takes to decide whether or not two people are suitable for each other long term, both parties’ networks of friends to draw on as their ‘community’ and both parties’ practices of safe sexual health and family planning. After reading about this, I became convinced that this would be possible in today’s society if both parties in a relationship were part of a supportive community and were to take charge of their own reproduction.
  According to Greer, people in a relationship in which cisgender male-female intercourse is the main form of sexual activity are able to practice coitus interruptus (‘pulling out’). Because of this, they effectively have no need for chemical contraception or even condoms (or, as Greer cheekily calls it, ‘rubber hardware’). Coitus interruptus is a risky form of birth control which may result in unwanted pregnancies, and therefore, abortions. However, Greer also makes a point regarding this: An abortion could be chemically induced at extremely early stages of conception without any harm to a baby or foetus. Additionally, avoiding the pill would allow women to avoid the side effects that artificial hormones could have on their bodies. However, Greer argues that this is not possible unless the couple have a ‘tenderness’ for one another, ‘creativity’ and probably the sense of intimacy and oneness required to be aware of the moment when they have reached the climax. Nonetheless, she focuses heavily on traditional roles in cisgender, heterosexual relationships.
  Regardless of culture, ethnic background or definitions of relationships, the quality of the relationship is generally determined by the amount of energy that each party is willing to put in. People have different ways of showing care. They can show care through physical affection, acts of service, gift-giving, taking each other out for meals and so on. In pursuit of what she feels would be best for society in general, Greer seems to have glossed over what is important for people individually.
  Another point that Greer raises is that when people in contemporary Western countries form relationships, they can have the pressure of what their parents and grandparents have told them they should do. This may have been handed down from cultural traditions, which conflicts with the possibilities that modern technology has enabled. For instance, in some traditional cultures, such as the Italians of Tuscany, a lack of reproductive responsibility was frowned upon amongst men and not required of women. There was a certain kind of Italian man who felt that women’s usage of oral contraceptives could expose themselves to selfish men who would take advantage of them. Thus, they would figure out for themselves how to refrain from impregnating their female partners. However, as Greer argues, this kind of attitude was centred on ensuring that men felt they had complete control over their reproductive capacity, rather than fostering cooperation between the genders.
  I think that if we can understand this issue in terms of biology, in any relationship in which reproduction is an issue, then there is a constant state of change between those who do the fertilisation and who receives it. In humans, there is a stereotype in cisgender relationships that a man can plant the seed in a woman, and that women can get her eggs fertilised and have children. This stereotype is of course highly variable. However, the ability to do something does not mean that either of those things should be done without the complete and explicit consent of both parties.
  Greer’s take on the issue of family planning seems to be connected to her take on the adoption of the ‘nuclear family.’ She argues that we have sacrificed the sense of community that is conducive to raising well-rounded, social children and releasing the pressure, poverty and isolation that parents of these children suffer. She thinks that we should subscribe to the pre-Western traditional roles of the Tuscan, Kenyan or Indian villages, with their ‘wise women,’ ‘shamans’ and group birthing. Incidentally, the kind of community for which Greer advocates bears a striking resemblance to that shown in The Handmaid’s Tale. In this fictional world, the top priority is the health and wellbeing of pregnant mothers and young children. It is also assumed that it is (or should be) the destiny of women to be closely involved with the process of bringing children into the world.
  While it would be considered anti-feminist now, that outlook, if it is modified to suit the needs of people today, is not without its merits. People who have a wider ‘support network’ are undoubtedly better off in relationships. In our modern culture, instead of the traditional village, we have networks of friends and acquaintances from work, school or family. We may keep in touch with these networks in person, by text message or social media. Those who are better connected to their networks will have more opportunities to learn from the mistakes of others, as well as pass on what they have learned. In support networks such as these, it is possible to get any kind of personalised information about family planning you could ever want without fear or embarrassment, and in a familiar environment surrounded by close friends.
  While the ideas that Greer discusses are interesting, there are reasons why her way of looking at these topics could be considered outmoded by feminists today. She looks at these issues from a solely binary perspective, when in fact people’s identities around sexuality are more complex than this. Nonetheless, Sex and Destiny raises some salient issues for relationships, family planning and sex.

  Zena Mason

• Let’s Talk About the Matriarchy Instead

  12:49 pm Comments Off on Let’s Talk About the Matriarchy Instead

   
  Whilst trying to ‘overthrow the patriarchy,’ are we actually giving it undeserved airtime? In a world that tends to recognise negativity over positivity, perhaps it’s time to shift our perspectives and look back to the pre-colonial era at some traditional egalitarian societies. Maybe then, we might be able to discover where it all went wrong.
  Contemporary Indigenous artist Wendy Red Star uses her own image to creatively approach the sensitive subjects of race, gender and indigeneity. Her playful, bright photographic utopias gently present feminism; they are easy for viewers to digest, without compromising artistic intent. Red Star is a descendant of the Crow tribe, which is one of the eight remaining matriarchal clans in which heritage descends through the maternal line. Here, women determine the lineage and bloodlines, proving the power of women outside of post-colonial gender structures.
  Within groups like the Crow, women are not seen as ‘uniquely privileged,’ as the matrilineal principle is based on co-operation and support. The key to success is the allocation of practical and behavioural roles within the clan, dispersed evenly amongst members. Men and women’s responsibilities were equally significant for the success of the tribe. Unfortunately, the latter part of the 19th century saw an attack on these traditional gender roles. The US and Canadian governments implemented schemes to abolish tradition and create a society resembling the familiar Eurocentric concept of a ‘nuclear family’ and ‘civilised’ society. Unfortunately, this shift continues today. However, through the work of artists and activists such as Wendy Red Star, the memory of the Crow’s egalitarian society and cultural heritage prevails.
  Red Star’s double portrait series Apsáalooke Feminist features herself and Beatrice, her eight-year-old daughter, posed and gazing steadily at the viewer.
  In these images, Red Star’s daughter represents the enduring ancestry of the Crow tribe and her descendance through the female bloodline. Every pose Red Star makes, her daughter copies, but with an added air of child-like playful disobedience; where Red Star’s hands are neatly clasped, Beatrice adopts a mischievous smile and slumped shoulders. Within these playful scenes of colour and familial comfort, female strength is celebrated. Beatrice and her mother direct unwavering outward gazes at the viewer, challenging and defying the colonial notion of Indigenous peoples as passive objects. In this way, Red Star dictates the importance of maternal teaching, lineage and female power.
  Alongside their portrayal of feminine power and identity, these images satirise colonial misinterpretations. Firstly, the artist’s use of vibrant red and blue along with patterns on the clothing are eye-catching, creating a theatrical aesthetic of the stereotyped ‘American Indian.’  Those of you familiar with the work of Aboriginal artist Tracey Moffatt, can see a clear similarity with the use of a theatrical diorama or backdrop to display colonial assumptions and misunderstandings.
  Furthermore, Red Star and her daughter are set against psychedelic wallpaper, which engulfs them in a hypnotic, dream-like atmosphere, as if they are apparitions instead of living people. This is, in fact, their living room at home. By setting the photo series in her own home, Red Star enforces the continuing resilience of Native Americans alongside the paramount importance of family and bloodlines.
  Contrasting with the theatrical backdrop, Red Star and her daughter are dressed in traditional elk-tooth dresses, shawls and beaded bags, highlighting the importance of female identity within the Crow society. Dresses carry great significance for women and girls within many Native American tribes, as they represent their connection to ancestry, community and family. Within the Crow community, men’s roles constituted more dangerous operations such as hunting, warfare, weapons manufacture and political matters. The elk-teeth, therefore, tell the story of a traditional custom in which a man would collect teeth over years of hunting and then save them for his mother or sister to sew onto the dress of his prospective wife.
  On the other hand, women would take charge of physical labour, including agriculture, building tipis and foraging for wild plants, alongside household and child-rearing responsibilities. At a glance, it could be argued that the gender ratio here remains unequal. However, these women held a unique political position due to their place in a matriarchal society. They were allowed to divorce, unlike contemporary American women at the time, and to keep the land and house, as they were in ownership of them. Additionally, women were revered for their healing powers and craftwork, and were enlisted to care for sacred objects: an esteemed responsibility. Interestingly, art was something both men and women were involved in, whether it be embroidery, carvings, music or storytelling.
  Through examining the structure of pre-colonial societies such as the Crow, we can begin to understand the importance of unique historical roots and traditions. Wendy Red Star uses her artistic flair alongside familial connections to heritage to create a powerful, engaging piece of work that gently provokes thought and understanding. Crow society no longer works entirely as it used to. However, all is certainly not lost thanks to the endurance of memory and representation of history by visual artists such as Wendy Red Star.

  Eloise Rattle

• Chill girls

  October 13, 2018 11:42 am Comments Off on Chill girls

  Somewhere between high-school and college, I became frantic to adopt a fabulously chill and complacent attitude; the esteemed and famed persona of a ‘chill girl’. I have tried endlessly to pinpoint the exact shift in my perception of myself. I continue to fail admirably. I realised that I was looking for some critical juncture in the past scattered year for some enigmatic eureka moment that made me strive tirelessly to become easy-going, complacent and ‘one of the boys’. That being said, many of my closest friends would immediately scoff at this because of how miserably I have failed at being chill. Of late, I’ve retaliated to this by ironically captioning all my social media in my own brand of humour, with ‘I am SuCh a CHiLL GurL’. But why am I so obsessed with conforming to this cookie cutter identity? Why am I so willing to absolve myself of my empowering characteristics of being passionate, at times slightly (edit: very) argumentative and quirkily exuberant?
   
  In answer to this, moving out of home, immersing yourself in an intense college culture and starting to work out your own adult identity is super difficult. There is every reason in the book for women to look to some simple way to ensure that they would be liked, celebrated and popular within their own social circles. I would argue that it’s human nature to adapt and conform to established social practices in order to fit in. It happens to be that this brazen unfazed aura and magnetism of breeziness is what most young women seem to aspire towards.
   
  A chill girl’s laid-back outlook instils a sense of emotional stability. It attracts friendships and the male gaze. A chill girl’s inherent willingness to go with the flow is a staple in forming long term relationships that are ‘low key’ and low maintenance. An aversion to committing to romance or even engaging in political discourse lends to the development of her seemingly aloof impartiality. To chill girls, I would assume their grievances seem utterly avoidable. Their perennial sense of complacent apathy allows them to remain detached in a buffered margin, away from argument and conflict.
   
  To me, it seems adopting and harnessing that chill girl vibe could only occur in some altered reality. If the personal traits I mentioned above were found all in the one person, would I even want to be their friend? Perhaps our society has molded a feminine persona who abandons all curiosity and all drive in order to just make it easier for us not to be challenged.  Someone who is willing in every conversation and in every interaction to lay themselves down as a ‘doormat’ has to abandon all drive, sacrifice and curiosity. That drive and curiosity is intrinsically connected to a unique personal and female identity.
   
  I came to realise that attaining a chill girl vibe wasn’t achieved through the process of changing my loud, sometimes obnoxious traits into a chiller and more demure version of myself. Rather, I was simply adding things to my personality; choosing to ‘chug a few beers’ before Moose or electing at dinner not to pull my friends up if they made a political statement that I didn’t agree with. The word ‘chill’ for me wasn’t so much ‘chillin’ out’ but rather adding activities that were deemed ‘chill’ to my already enthusiastic agenda. So, retrospectively, it really did nothing except allow me a quasi-orgasmic rush of feeling ‘cool’. So silly.
   
  I know I can’t speak for the entire female experience but being the ‘chill girl’ or actively labelling yourself as one can be dangerous. I embrace getting heated, laughing out loud, being excited and adventurous without having to adopt a backseat attitude towards life. I think that women in the 21st century are taught by the implicit structures within society that their personalities will never be good enough and that men will forever be in search of a figment of their own imagination, for an extension of themselves. Look to 500 Days of Summer, a Year 11 English staple, an awakening for all, which showed that cool and aloof Deschanel was just not what Levitt made her up to be. It’s these kinds of tropes that can fuel, but also harness, the innate sense of female passivity to which some women subscribe.
   
  ‘Chill girl’, ‘cool girl’ feminism is a mixed bag of issues, some of which I agree with and others I wholeheartedly refute. At the end of the day, I think cool girl feminism is just a very sexy way of promoting sisterhood. While the chill girl ideal rests upon a singular attribute, ultimately I believe feminism is contingent on embracing an intimate understanding of yourself and your idiosyncrasies whilst accepting that the female experience is transformative both for ourselves and others.  I know it may come across as existential and extrapolated but flashed against a projector, it’s these feminist trends that stare blankly and starkly back. Adopting a chill girl vibe is only a half-step in the direction of empowerment.
   
  So after writing this comment, I flicked back to December 2017 in my Google history right before the New Year, and amidst all the pirated Friends episodes Isaw a blinking WikiHow article: ‘How to be Chill’. Cringe worthy and alarmingly pre-pubescent. REMOVE WEBSITE.
   
  “Fuck being chill”.

  Stella Slack

• Is Intersectionality Exclusive to Third-Wave Feminism?

  September 24, 2018 2:17 pm Comments Off on Is Intersectionality Exclusive to Third-Wave Feminism?

  I like to define the feminism that I practice as the fight to dismantle interconnected systems of oppression. The patriarchy, white supremacy, capitalism, cisheteronormativity, the list goes on. My feminism is decidedly intersectional. Potentially this makes it most closely related to third-wave feminism, which is often hailed for its consideration of women of colour, LGBT+ women, disabled women and working-class women. With this in mind, can it be said that the previous waves of feminism lack the inclusivity that the third-wave prides itself on? Or have we been too quick to judge the feminism of past decades due to the potentially stereotypical light in which they are painted?
   
  The Suffragettes
  The first wave of feminism served primarily to campaign for women’s right to vote. It also sought to achieve equal economic, educational, trade and property rights. By the late 1800s to the early 1900s, women were beginning to realise their status as second-class citizens. Rightfully many felt that this should be changed. In the United States, first-wave feminism began off the heels of the 17th Amendment, which granted African-American men (although not women) the right to vote. Despite this, the tireless campaigning of first-wave feminists held a fundamentally racist undercurrent. Women of colour tended to be excluded from the fight for equal rights, often on the perceived basis that they were less ‘educated’ than white women. But if it were not for the women of colour such as Sojourner Truth who participated in first-wave feminism, the suffragette movement may not have achieved the success that it did. So, while this incarnation of feminism benefited from the efforts of women of colour, such efforts have not received the same recognition as those of white women.
   
  Reproductive Rights and Sexual Liberation
  Many ideas central to second-wave feminism of the mid to late 20th century are still pervasive today. The rights to birth control, abortion, freedom from sexual assault and domestic violence are issues which have been integral to feminism since the 1960s. During this time, many women felt that they were being denied the sexual liberation that they should be granted. Second-wave feminists criticised the notion that women belonged solely in the domestic sphere. And the fact that they were so closely associated with their husbands (in cases of heterosexual relationships). This new blossoming of feminism came alongside the civil rights movement and for many, the two went hand-in-hand. But women of colour nonetheless believed themselves to be alienated from the movement. White feminists placed importance on isolated problems like infant mortality and forced sterilization in the communities of women of colour and disabled women. But, the overall struggles of these groups and others, they ignored.  This created somewhat of a division between these two groups of women and ultimately led to the establishment of the womanist movement, a space where women of colour could freely talk about equality. Moreover, during second-wave feminism, ‘lesbian’ was a term which anti-feminists frequently used to degrade feminists. The very fact that a descriptor for women who experience sexual attraction to other women was turned into an insult is something which is likely to have been hurtful and alienating to queer women.
   
  Intersectionality
  With third-wave feminism came the increasingly common usage of the term ‘intersectionality.’ Originally coined by Kimberlé Crenshaw in 1989, this term refers to activism which crosses axes of oppression and views all systems of power as interconnected. Crenshaw intended for intersectionality to act as a crossroads between sexism and racism. Nowadays, the term has been reinterpreted to include the struggles faced by queer, disabled and working-class women. Intersectionality is not the sole focus of third-wave feminism. In fact, ideas from first and second-wave feminism such as economic equality and pro-choice attitudes on abortion have largely shaped the movement since the early 1990s. And sometimes, third-wave feminists do not achieve intersectionality. Still, when talking about issues mostly relating to women, it is easy to forget that other oppressed groups may have similar experiences. It is clear that third-wave feminism has been the most successful thus far at weaving intersectionality into the conversation of gender equality.
   
  What About the Fourth Wave?
  Since the beginning of the #metoo and #timesup movements, there has been much debate as to whether these progressions within feminism should be viewed as another wave altogether.  Sexual harassment and assault have always played a significant role in feminism throughout the years. However, the recent myriad allegations against powerful men in Hollywood have only affirmed the need for further discussion on this all-inhabiting problem. This ‘fourth wave,’ if we can call it that, has provided opportunities for the inclusion of other axes of oppression. The founder of the #metoo movement was Tarana Burke, an African-American woman who has also contributed greatly to the civil rights movement in the United States. In this way, this movement is connected strongly with anti-racism and seeks to include women of colour in the conversation. Unfortunately, the group that has continuously been left out is transgender people. Transgender women and men both experience sexual assault disproportionately to cisgender people yet somehow, their voices have gone unheard.
   
  Is complete intersectionality truly possible? Arguably, no.  The most recent incarnations of feminism have attempted to include the voices of women who may previously have been silenced. But, it is nonetheless difficult to overcome implicit biases and consider the experiences of being a woman that are not your own. All feminists can do now is at least try to ensure that our activism helps all causes of social justice, rather than hindering them.

  Phoebe Lupton

• Stop telling me not to walk alone at night

  August 14, 2018 12:12 pm Comments Off on Stop telling me not to walk alone at night

  To those who never understand,
  Stop telling me not to walk alone at night.
  I’m not telling you to stop because you need to focus your efforts on our broader social attitudes towards women and men’s respect for them.
  I’m not telling you to stop because you have no right to try to frighten any woman into changing behaviour she has every legal, practical, and physical right to engage in.
  I’m not telling you to stop because your incessant warnings cause many women intense and unnecessary anxiety every time they go out at night.
  And I’m not telling you to stop because every warning offensively implies that we, having lived our whole lives in fear of being little more than victims to men’s violence, would know nothing about its existence.
  Although I agree with all of these reasons, I’m not telling you to stop for any of them. I’m telling you to stop because, quite simply, I cannot afford not to walk alone at night.
  The simple fact is, I’m working two to three jobs, studying full-time, living alone, and largely supporting myself. I cannot afford to avoid those 8pm, 11pm, 3am and 6am walks to paying shifts.
  I don’t choose to walk alone at night because I enjoy it, or to make some kind of political or feminist argument. I do it because trying to get by when you are living alone in a new city, and on a junior minimum wage, is fucking hard. Trying to do it without a car, whilst studying full-time and struggling with your mental health is even harder. Trying to fit work, study, and life into a sun-up to sun-down schedule is straight-up impossible.
  I am definitely not the only young woman who has experienced this anguish. Yet our voices are continuously drowned out by the hypothetical arguments of the more privileged (often white and male) students who believe that victim-blaming is just plain ‘common sense’. Please, take a step back and realise what the common reality is for young, working-class women.
  To get to my last job, almost every day I had to walk past the same deserted corner my friend was sexually assaulted at months earlier.
  To get to my current job, I still walk past stores at which friends have been sexually harassed by colleagues and customers whilst working, where reports have been ignored, and where they cannot afford to quit.
  And this reality – of almost daily early morning and late-night walks, and of harassment – is one which is never truly grasped by other students.
  In a university population of which the majority is composed of students from high-SES income backgrounds, and only a minority that works to survive, explaining my financial independence and the requirements that come with it is almost impossible.
  Not only is it impossible, but it is exhausting. The feeling of being alone in this unique obligation can be all-consuming on some nights. As much as other students appear to support women’s right to walk home alone at night, not many truly understand the emotional fatigue that comes with not having any other option.
  As much as I would like to – as the police framed it in the wake of Eurydice Dixon’s death – ‘take responsibility for my safety’, young, working women do not have the same resources or capacity that everyone else does to take on this responsibility. We cannot be responsible, and therefore cannot be safe, especially when society is overly focused on victim-blaming and slut-shaming.
  So again – to those who don’t understand – stop telling me not to walk alone at night. I know the risks, as I’m constantly reminded of them.
  I, and many other working women however, have no option but to take them. In an age in which girls are encouraged to become more independent, perhaps it is about time that we stop trying to discourage their hard work and success and start making a real effort to facilitate it.
  Women have shit to do, and it’s about time we start acknowledging it.

  Anonymous

• What’s the deal with Canberra nightlife?

  May 20, 2018 10:23 pm Comments Off on What’s the deal with Canberra nightlife?

  If someone told me after my first week in Canberra that the local nightlife was not limited to trashy vibes and mainstream clubs, I would not have believed it. Ten months later, and two whole semesters of exploring the corners of the capital, I should retract my statement. Canberra nights have real potential.
  It would be wrong to describe Canberra as a boring capital or without culture. Admittedly, it is true that Melbourne or Sydney have distanced it in the eyes of the Australian youth. As an outsider used to the Parisian nightlife, I took a critical look at Canberra. I observed my fellow students following the same rhythm all semester. A back and forth from Mr. Wolf to Mooseheads, where the only originality was the booking of an interstate DJ on Fridays. For too long, public authorities have not considered the role of night culture in the attractiveness of the city. Besides, most students seem to enjoy this routine, limiting even further the possibility for Canberra to proclaim quality and original parties. Today, this is changing.
  The trigger? A new generation. There is now a momentum and dynamism in Canberra with many events at night, but also during the day, especially around the artistic scene. Since January 2018, the parties on offer have been more intense than ever. Outdoor raves led by local crews, edgy warehouse nights with international DJs, all-out art parties like Renaissance: local actors are shaking up Canberra.
  They are young and willing to create an alternative night, outside the traditional venues. One of them, Nick Trivett, DJ and co-president of Univibes explains: “There are not enough good nights-out and clubs run by the current institution in Canberra. Univibes, Pickles, Orbit, all that shit was started by local kids who aren’t happy with what’s currently happening – which means the honor falls on us to throw proper events.” All those names, including CBR House Social and Good Content are the leading party collectives in Canberra you should check for your next weekend.
  Although the diversity of models multiplies, they all gathered under the same desire: creating a more progressive, aesthetic and inclusive night. Mission accomplished for the Degenerate & Six’s team. These students and artists have proven their ability to bring an audacious concept to the capital. On Saturday gigs, a new crowd embraced the pop-up gallery where art pieces blended with dancers.
  I believe the power of the night shouldn’t be diminished. The party is our way to express ourselves and blossom. We share political questions, try to call out, to create a timeless place.
  Giving a quick glance around you during a gig should draw your attention to the representation issue within the club industry. That’s why initiatives such as Woroni DJ training for women and non-binary people or all-female lineup are necessary, and should inspire more eventplanners to respect gender equality. As revolutionary as it sounds for a place like Canberra, locals promoting queer or women DJ are still ahead of most of the parties in the country. Any party-goer should be aware for example that women represent only 23 per cent of Australian festival lineups!
  Our current clubbing culture reflects many social issues, as questions of domination, gender, race and sexuality. Today, we must stop minimising the political dimension of the night and start to consider party spaces as a relevant location for empowering minorities. It is not about tokenizing by inserting a few diverse people into the lineup, but rather giving people the opportunity to assert their identity through an event.
  This is the ambition of Canberra’s new night scene. I believe this change of mentality is essential because it could transform Civic nightclubs from a place where we go to mindlessly dance or drink to a living space of innovation, liberation and culture.

  Romane Fuentes