Ink Blot

I have never been a feminist scholar. What does scholar mean anyway? That I’ve studied Feminists and anti-feminists of the past and know the history, the path that has been walked. Knowing where the path is supposed to go makes it harder to walk where you want, even to forge a new one. I’ve heard of Rebecca West and Elizabeth Stanton, and Susan B. Anthony of course, but I have never read the tomes upon tomes of rhetoric devoted to the cause by them and others. I wish to walk my own path, never mind where others have walked in the past. Am I re-inventing the wheel? Perhaps, but maybe a wheel is not what I am after, just a way to get from here to there.

Feminism is far more a gut feeling. I am what I am not because of what is between my legs, but what is between my ears. Anyone who says differently is selling something.  One criterion I heard once upon a time for being a feminist is that women’s’ experiences in life are categorically different from men’s’. Well, yes, but my experiences are different from yours because I am me and you are you. Who we are as individuals is, at least in part, the summation of our past experiences. That alone is enough cause for you to view an event one way, and me to see it another, even if we see the same event at the same time. We all arrive at any of our own opinions and beliefs by way of our own lives. We all get equal time in the sun… no matter to race, gender, religion, orientation or any other line in the sand you can draw.

The only thing to elevate the masses is money.