Today I had the awesome opportunity to speak at the National Press Club in Washington DC to deliver remarks around girls and feminism, due to winning the Women's Media Center "Girls' State of the Union" contest earlier this year. Feminist icon (and tremendous role model) Gloria Steinem introduced me, and I delivered the following remarks.
I’d like to
thank the Women’s Media Center for the tremendous opportunity to speak here
today, and Ms. Steinem for the introduction—I’m honored. I’ve looked up to Ms.
Steinem ever since I knew what feminism was. It’s not every day that you get
introduced by an icon, so I may have to, at some point, pinch myself. I’m
grateful for the introduction because, to be quite honest, it’s very hard for
me to choose how to introduce myself sometimes—I feel like I have to choose
somehow, because of the wide range of things I do, causes I support, or roles I
embody—student, writer, teacher, activist. So a defining moment for me was when
we were asked to introduce ourselves on the first day of my philosophy course
at Stanford over the summer. I looked around the room, opened my mouth, and
said: “I’m a feminist.”
My convictions didn’t start with finding a way to
introduce myself, of course; they started gradually, and in some unlikely
places. You see, growing up, like probably a lot of you, I loved princesses. I
loved their fancy tiaras and elaborate dresses, convoluted names and inherited
power. Now, this could have easily gone in the other direction—the influence of
too many princesses getting rescued by Prince Charmings on white horses could
have made me buy into this image of feminine as weak—except for the fact that I
loved history, too. So in the pages of books, I did find my role models, just maybe not the role models most people
would expect. I found Elizabeth the First infinitely cooler than Cinderella,
because being imprisoned in the Tower of London while evading the possibility
of your sister calling for your execution seems a lot tougher than throwing
down a glass slipper. The lesson that being a bookworm taught me was that for
every Snow White or Sleeping Beauty or Cinderella, there was a Catherine the
Great or Joan of Arc or Eleanor Roosevelt. And when I starting writing my own
stories, I determined that there had to be some characters who didn’t fit the
stereotype of the “good little girl.” That came naturally to me, because that
was around the same time I decided I was a feminist.
But I wonder why those three little words, “I’m a
feminist,” can be so hard for girls and guys to say. When it is said, it’s
often followed by some sort of apologetic qualifier—“…but, I still like when
guys hold doors for me” and the like. Or it’s used in a pick-and-choose way,
like “I’m a feminist when it comes to this,” or disavowed entirely “I wouldn’t
call myself a feminist,” but then followed by an acknowledgement of current
wrongs in society and a belief in equality for women that basically makes the
speaker a feminist in all but name.
Be honest—you’ve probably done it, or you’ve seen it
done.
We shouldn’t ever feel like we have to qualify, deny,
or apologize for our belief in what’s right: equality. We can stop being scared
of feminism. We need to make it cool, not scary or weird, to say, “I’m a
feminist.” In Iowa during the Republican primaries there was a pledge going
around, asking the candidates to affirm their family values. I would love for a
feminism pledge to go around Congress. That might sound radical to some people.
“Aren’t feminists those scary man-hating ladies in giant shoulder-padded power
suits?” they might think. Not quite. According to the dictionary, feminism is
just advocating “social, political, legal, and economic rights for women equal
to those of men.” Definitions have power, because when you tell people that’s
what a feminist is they sit up and say, “Well I guess then I’m a feminist.”
If we all take this step, of affirming the importance
of feminism, it will have a huge impact. But the people who will ultimately be
able to make the most change--the people who should speak up the most--the
people who will ultimately carry the feminist movement onwards--are today’s
young people. Us. We need to make sure that today’s boys and girls know at
least as much about the lives of Susan B. Anthony or Gloria Steinem as they do
about Kim Kardashian or Snooki. That’s a vision of the girls’ state of the
union that I as a teenage girl, hope to see. One where equality, respect, and
fairness for all are more than ideals for the nation, but words embodied each
and every day. Yet this vision may seem elusive in the present day. Talking to
my peers, opinion seems to be split; some are well-informed and know that the
work of feminism isn’t over; others point to how far we’ve come and question
the necessity of the movement’s modern continuance.
And society has, in many ways, conditioned us to
think that way, with artificial constructions of token “girl power” yet
excessive segregation and limitation in the merchandise we’re offered, media we
consume, and more. If we go on a shopping trip, a simple jaunt down the toys
aisle can tell you that something is wrong. It’s easy to see what’s for girls
and what’s for boys. The boys get star wars figurines and superheroes, and the
girls get Barbies with feet made for high heels or Disney princesses sitting
pretty and waiting for Prince Charming to rescue them.
Now you wander down to the magazine section and start
looking at the selection for teenage girls: Seventeen, CosmoGirl, Teen Vogue,
Girl’s Life. Relationships, celebrities, gossip, hair and makeup advice, “how
to get flat abs” on every cover—what more could a teen girl want?
Now you’ve come to the clothing and shoes section.
The high heels get higher and higher. In the juniors’ clothing section, almost
every bra’s a pushup. You wonder why.
This department store experience might be virtual,
but the merchandise within it isn’t. As a five-year-old, I had proportionally
incorrect dolls; as a teenager, I see magazines marketed to girls that seem to
value beauty over brains, and I see clothes that sell too much on the basis of
“less is more,” especially if it’s lacy and pink.
I don’t think that the women I look up to got to
where they are now because of Barbiesque figures; I think it took smarts and
persistence and hard work. These aren’t the traits that are emphasized on store
shelves with merchandise for girls. And misrepresentation of girls continues
through adulthood. On TV we see the exploits of the Real Housewives of *insert
city here*--stereotypical catfighting—and on Jersey Shore, the drunken
adventures of Nicole Polizzi, aka Snooki. Is it right that Snooki, who I hope
will never be an influence in government and policy, has significantly more
name recognition than Valerie Jarrett, the president’s senior advisor? Who
would you rather have your daughters looking up to?
We teenage girls hear a lot of mixed messages. We
hear things like inside beauty is more important than outside beauty, love who
you are, be yourself; and then we hear things like a quote from Representative
Jim Sensenbrenner, discouraging Michelle Obama’s healthy eating campaign by
saying, “She has a large posterior herself.” Is this an appropriate comment for
anyone, man or woman, Democrat or Republican, to make? Hillary Clinton once said, “If I want to knock a story off
the front page, I just change my hairstyle.” Michelle Obama’s outfits are
headline news items. Is this how you would want to be evaluated all the time,
by your outward appearance? Step out the door and everything you wear, how you
look, whether you’re wearing makeup or not, is scrutinized?
If there is any silver lining to growing up in an
environment that tells us appearance is everything, it’s this: we should know
from reading enough issues of CosmoGirl or Seventeen how to make something look
good. But instead of lipstick or foundation on our skin, we can use feminism to
give society a makeover. Making over society is what the Women’s Media Center
is doing. Girls are taking action. The SPARK Summit petition asking that
Seventeen Magazine provide girls with images of real girls, unaltered by Photoshopping,
led to Seventeen vowing to change their ways. High school students Emma
Axelrod, Sammi Siegel, and Elena Tsemberis successfully pushed for a female
moderator in the presidential debates. Emma is a graduate of the Women’s Media
Center Progressive Girls’ Voices training.
This kind of action is grassroots, it’s effective,
and it’s needed. You see, by staying silent, apologizing for speaking up, or
criticizing those who do, we’re falling into a waiting-for-Prince-Charming
trap: the idea that someone else will come along and do the heavy lifting to
rescue us.
But by fighting for ourselves, not being afraid to
speak up, and using media to amplify our voices, we can do the rescuing
ourselves—because progress doesn’t work the way of fairytales. Progress is a
story we ourselves get to write. There are girls who aren’t waiting to write
this story. They are taking action now, and it’s worth remembering on this
International Day of the Girl that in some other countries, girls are risking
their very lives to do so. Fourteen-year-old Malala Yousufzai, an activist for
girls’ education in Pakistan, was shot and grievously injured by the Taliban
for her courageous work. Malala is still fighting for her life in a hospital.
But what is uplifting in this story—aside from the tremendous bravery of one
girl—is the solidarity of her community. Men, women, and children condemned the
hateful, cowardly action of her attacker. And this quote stuck with me, as I
watched the nightly news last night—a girl from Malala’s hometown, saying
something along the lines of, “For every girl they try to silence, there will
be thousands of us angry and ready to speak up.”
Are we angry?
Yes we are.
Are we
ready to speak up?
Yes we are.
Thank you.