On Blaming, and Being the Patriarchy, Part II

I'm harping on this stuff. I know. But it's something (or a bunch of somethings) I can't stop thinking about. I don't want to stop thinking about. Having said that, I know that my thoughts about being a feminist man (who also happens to be white and middle-class and able-bodied and parts of various other opressor groups) are probably ever-evolving, and this is one place where I bounce my ideas around my own head, and the heads of those willing to comment.

Kareem asked in a comment why I care what people think. That is, why do I care that various people and groups don't encourage me (or even want me) around. He's got something of a point there, but I think there are good answers to this question. To some degree, I ought not care. That is, on a personal level, I ought to try to just strive to do what is right, regardless of whether or not others agree with me. But we do not exist in a vacuum (in fact, my flavor of feminism takes this as one of its central ideas); hyperindividualism--the view that one should just do the right thing in one's own life, among other things--is part of what I'm fighting against, as a feminist. The connections we have--I have--with others are important on various levels. First of all, it seems to me that if I want to have a full impact on the world, if sexism is indeed going to be adressed in a way that induces change, it can't just be various individuals acting against sexism. Groups are necessary.

But also, it's important to my mental and emotional states that I have people 'in my corner' in this regard. That doesn't mean they have to agree with me on everything, or such things. Lex and I are disagreeing in some important ways right now, but I still feel she's in my corner in lots of ways, for instance. Thing is, I don't have many feminist friends in my life at all--explicit feminists, at least--and don't have many, then, that are in my corner. And this not only makes dealing with the negative stuff more difficult, but also makes it harder to understand the concepts involved.

On the other hand, I think I've been downplaying the possibility of finding some good feminist men to interact with, and finding some good community there. Part of the reason is just the pervasiveness of the "Men's Rights Movement"--lots of 'mens groups' tend to be right-wing conservative-ish, anti-feminism, misogynist and the like. This is discouraging and sort of depressing. But there are many more profeminist and feminist men out there than I at first thought. One great resource turns out to be Michael Flood, who had a great magazine, XY, that is now a website that has all sorts of thinking about what I'm thinking regarding being a feminist, and being a feminist man. And there's a 'profem' mailing list that Michael Flood created. So I'm getting a bit more hopeful at least at the prospect of understanding what I'm going through as regards being a feminsit man, and even a little hopeful that I might find some more community--even among men, which, frankly, isn't something that I really considered before.

There's even a mailing list! And we all know how many problems mailing lists solve.

In a more serious vein, though, I am coming to terms with a lot of guilt and sadness and alienation that revolves around how my politics and my identity are rejected not only by 'most people', but also by those with whom I would want to be allies. Reading (and rereading) an article from XY written by Victoria Kannen, I begin to be able to articulate my thoughts and feelings about this stuff better.

Kannen says:

Pain has brought many of us to feminism – people of all genders – or it has found us once we are there, but feminist consciousness can bring meaning back to chaos, to loss, and to oppression. To be a critical ally to the feminist movement, one must understand that, “as part of various oppressor groups (white, male, able-bodied, heterosexual, middle or above in the class structure), they did not individually bring the situation about and they cannot just reach out with goodwill and solve it” (Bishop, 2002: 110). Men, who are disillusioned by their problematic expressions of gender and are seeking refuge in a new identity, must not appropriate or ‘pass’ in order to gain feminist ‘cred’, as they would not be reliable allies. Feminist men, then, must take responsibility for helping to solve issues of historical injustice without taking on individual guilt, as it limits constructive and inclusive activism (Bishop, 2002).

I tend to agree. But how to avoid taking on individual guilt, when not only is one's identity sort of guilty-by-default (at least in part), but also when one's own feminist allies don't often feel like allies? I need and want to have a conversation with others who don't trivialize the effects of this built-in guilt and recognize that (I believe) the causes of this guilt/self-hate come from (in part) systems of patriarchy. This is not to say (once again) that I think I have it in any way as bad as various groups that are systematically oppressed--just that I have to find ways to deal with my oppression, to whatever extent I think I'm oppressed. (And if I ought not call it 'oppression' because that trivializes what others' go through, then tell me what to call it.)

One way men in my position might deal with this, Kannen suggests, is to keep in mind that somebody's identity as a 'man' isn't, of course something unchanging and timeless. Utilizing Judith Butler's analysis of subjecthood, Kannen notes:

Feminist discourse has long attempted to (re)claim what it means to be a woman – what it can mean and how it will be received. A dualistic approach has often been used to understand how women are in relation to men, how the diverse identities of women are somehow essentially different from those of men. Feminist men can challenge this dualism, as they can embody the permeability of gender. In Schmitt’s (2001) personal narrative, Proud to Be a Man?, he states, “[b]ut since we are not profeminists with unspecified gender but specifically profeminist men, we struggle, in fact, against ourselves, against what most persons in our society expect us to be, and against what we were raised to be” (399). I argue that Schmitt is expressing a form of self-conscious partiality, as his male subjecthood and identities do not ‘belong’ to any one feminism or masculinity, but rather exist within a state of continual hybridization.

I'm unsure about this, really, because even if my identity is malleable, that doesn't change the facts that it's not infinitely malleable, that others play a part in creating my identity, and that it takes time/effort both to maintain and/or to change one's identity. Still, I think it is important to keep in mind that I have some say in what it means to be a man, and what it means to be a feminist man and the like.

What Kannen has to say later on gives me some solace, too, because it fits with some of my intuitions about feminist men and our place in the world. She articulates things that I have only begun to articulate for myself:

Many feminist theorists have argued that focusing on the oppression of men further marginalizes women who are oppressed and situates men as the ‘subject’ once again. As an activist for women’s rights, I understand women to experience oppressions that men – as a privileged group – will never experience, but this fact does not negate my advocacy for human rights. To varying degrees, both men and women can be oppressors and oppressed , and as such, my attention here turns to the oppression of feminist men.

Furthermore, Kannen's practical optimism is contagious, for me. Her hope gives me hope:

Butler states, “[f]eminism is about the social transformation of gender relations. Probably we could all agree on that, even if ‘gender’ is not the preferred word for some” (2004:204). This social transformation is happening now – men are resisting oppressive regimes; men are supporting women and women’s spaces; men are renouncing their unearned privileges. I believe this because I see it everyday in my classrooms, in my culture, in my home – I know it is possible.

Filed under:Feminism