I'm teaching my children the 'F' word. It's not something I gave much thought to 13 years ago, when I had my first child. Maybe the 'F' word wouldn't be necessary. Isn't feminism a throwback to the 60s and 70s, when American women burned Playboy magazines while rallying for education and job opportunities, reproductive rights and equal pay?
Feminists have gotten a bad rap. We'll always have outliers, men and women seeking mostly to shock - the cruder the language, the bigger the reaction. However, feminists I know are not vulgar man-haters. My feminist friends and acquaintances are pastors and priests, teachers, business owners, doctors, musicians, firefighters, retirees, writers, nurses, computer programmers ... and many are men.
Some feminists call themselves dykes, shave their heads and dress head to toe in leather and denim. We embrace stereotypes because they're cheap and easy. I embrace wearing lipstick because it's cheap and cheerful. I'm still a feminist.
I subscribe to the definition of feminism that says everyone, male and female, should have equal political, economic and social rights. Women's rights are human rights, said so many of the signs held by men, women and children during nearly 700 women's marches last weekend, where an estimated 4.8 million people (according to Wikipedia) took part. Worldwide protests were aimed at recently-inaugurated US President Donald Trump, and supported causes including health care access, racial justice and environmental protection - all under fire in the Trump regime.
Some people say protests are unnecessary. After all, women and men are already equal. Feminism is obsolete. Hogwash.
We need feminism as long as Sexism and his slithering cousin, Denial, are alive. In many societies, including this one, women still aren't paid on par with male counterparts. In other countries, women (and men) lack affordable health care. Women in Saudi Arabia can't drive; women in El Salvador are jailed for suffering miscarriages; women in Yemen can't leave home without their husbands' permission ... Yet nations that value equality fare better - economically and socially - than those where the rights of men far surpass those of women, according to the World Economic Forum (which also reports economic gender equality is 170 years away).
Statistics New Zealand figures show women earn 12 per cent less than men in full and part-time work. The NZ Ministry of Justice says 24 per cent of women have experienced at least one sexual offence during their lives. That figure was 6 per cent for men.
People on either side of the Pacific Ocean can sit at computers and repudiate rallies, thanks to men and women who had the tenacity to fight for opportunity. Thank Kate Sheppard in New Zealand (Susan B. Anthony in America) for women's right to vote.
Worldwide, females have been beaten, jailed, gassed - even killed - for seeking a voice in elections. Yet many of us can't be bothered to cast a ballot. Just 38 per cent of voters turned out in Tauranga City and the Western Bay of Plenty District in last year's election. Fifty-four per cent of eligible Americans voted in last year's presidential contest (according to the US Elections Project).
Susan B. Anthony said, "There never will be complete equality until women themselves help to make laws and elect lawmakers." Thirty-eight per cent of MPs in New Zealand are women. Nearly 20 per cent of America's Congressional members are female. My adopted country saw its first woman Prime Minister in 1997. My home country, never. Not yet.
We can try to legislate equality. We can't legislate attitudes. I attended a barbeque in Papamoa last month where a man who couldn't see my name tag said, "I'll just call you tits." While he'd had a few beers, I'd argue somewhere in his reptilian brain lies the notion women are the sum of their body parts. "I'll just call you scrotum," is what I never replied. I told him my name instead. Twenty years ago, as I made a first appearance on a live morning radio show in the US, a DJ looked at me and said, "You could suck the chrome off a trailer hitch with those lips." I'm embarrassed to tell you I was too naive to be offended. Just a couple years prior, a man 45 years my senior who out-ranked me in a medium-market TV newsroom routinely demanded hugs from young female reporters. We told our boss, who instructed him to stop.
The nice girl routine falls short of what I want to teach my daughter - and my son. I've already told them their bodies belong to them; worth resides in brains, not beauty; men and women have a duty to look after each other when keeping house, earning money and caring for children. My son and daughter are equally responsible for doing dishes and feeding Ally (though the dog would starve some days if my husband and I didn't intervene).
I struggle to explain more nuanced parts of sexism - parts so deeply woven into society, men and women alike may not recognise them. No one argues it's okay to demand sexual favours in exchange for a job. What's more insidious is time and money spent chasing the feminine ideal of youthful slenderness. Females represent 90 per cent of eating disorders; 85 to 90 per cent of cosmetic surgeries in the US are performed on women versus men.
Our vocabularies are filled with words implying men are stronger than women. When's the last time you heard someone say, "Woman up" or "Grow a pair" [of breasts]? If you're seen as weak, you might be called a "pussy" (childbirth equals strength in my book).
I'd rather not refer to people as body parts. I'm mindful the words I repeat to my children shape their self-concepts. A friend recently told me her 20-something daughter was having trouble sticking up for herself. "Because I called her Sweetie, she thought she should always be sweet and nice." Maybe I'll start calling my kids Fierce Chore-Doers.
Call me a feminist. It's the least I can do for my daughter, my son - and for the future of their communities.