Do We Need Feminism in 2011?

Yes, says noted feminist scholar Beverly Guy-Sheftall. From young American girls writing rappers to protest lyrics about bitches and hos, to the women standing up in Egypt, Libya and Ivory Coast, feminism is indeed alive, well -- and needed -- in the 21st century.

Do We Need Feminism in 2011?
by Beverly Guy-Sheftall | The Root.com

As part of Women's History Month, The Root is exploring the role that feminism plays in African-American lives, from its role in hip-hop to black men embracing the term to radical women who waged war against oppression over the years. We asked noted scholar Beverly Guy-Sheftall, the former president of the National Women's Studies Association and a pioneer in black feminism, to weigh in on where she sees the movement heading today. Here are her thoughts.

As we celebrate Women's History Month this March, it is important to reflect upon the continuing struggle of women around the globe to live better lives -- in peace and with justice. Given the horrific circumstances facing our sisters and brothers over the past weeks in Tunisia, Bahrain, Egypt, Ivory Coast and now Libya, it is imperative that we envision a world in which every one of us is free from the ravages of poverty, greed, discrimination, war and authoritarian regimes.

It is my black feminist politics that propels me always to think deeply about the human condition: global realities, especially as they affect people of color, women and children; and the urgency of our need to eliminate racism, sexism, classism, ableism, homophobia, religious intolerance, xenophobia and all other oppressions that plague humans wherever they live.

Despite the importance of the politics of feminism and all of the ways in which it addresses oppression of all varieties, I still find myself having to defend my allegiances to the goals of women's movements around the world. I am still challenged about my self-identification as a black feminist. So I want to say what I mean when I use this term.

For me the label "black feminist" enables me to make visible the emancipatory vision and acts of resistance among women who articulate their understanding of the complex nature of black womanhood (in all its diversity); the interlocking nature of the oppressions we suffer; and the necessity of sustained struggle in our quest for self-determination, the liberation of black people and gender equality. It encourages me to express solidarity with other women and people of color engaged in local and global struggles for emancipation.

As I ponder the future of black feminism in the U.S., this is what I see: It is imperative that we find ways to convince black communities -- especially black youths -- that, in the words of bell hooks, "feminism is for everybody." What this means is that we must develop an abhorrence for violence against women and girls and declare a moratorium on rape.

Read the Full Essay @ The Root.com

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Beverly Guy-Sheftall is the founder and director of the Women's Research & Resource Center at Spelman College, where she is also the Anna Julia Cooper Professor of Women's Studies. She has edited or co-edited Who Should Be First? Feminists Speak Out on the 2008 Presidential Election; Still Brave: The Evolution of Black Women's Studies; and Words of Fire: An Anthology of African-American Feminist Thought. She is also co-founder of SAGE: A Scholarly Journal on Black Women.

Am I The Only Feminist Who Liked Perry’s “For Colored Girls”?

Am I The Only Feminist Who Liked Perry’s “For Colored Girls”?
by Janell Hobson

I doubt that I am, and judging from the mostly black female audience that filled the theater where I watched Tyler Perry’s film adaptation of Ntozake Shange’s celebrated “choreopoem,” I believe the word-of-mouth among black women is that Perry got more things right than wrong in presenting the classic narrative on black women’s blues.

Other Ms. reviewers, such as Mako Fitts and Linda Villarosa, point out some crucial problems with Perry’s take–from homophobia to a conservative dismissal of positive black female sexuality to a simplistic portrayal of black men. Over at The Root, Salamisha Tillet argues that Perry severely undermines black feminism through his negative portrayal of Janet Jackson’s character, Jo, a black professional woman.

I can’t help but wonder, though, at the chorus of critics not previously invested in black feminist issues who gave the film overwhelming negative reviews. From Roger Ebert to the early reviews offered in Variety and Hollywood Reporter to Courtland Milloy who wishes to speak “for black men who have considered homicide” after watching the movie, reviewers have condemned the film as “cluttered,” “man-hating” and a “train wreck.”

What none of the critics–feminist or otherwise–pointed out was the transformation that occurred when Perry grounded the abstract poetry of Shange in cinematic realism. On-stage monologues about secret abortions and abuse allow us to go with our imaginations and feel the poems, but seeing these scenes through candid film shots was downright traumatizing. Whatever art and lyricism are conveyed in poetry, there is nothing like the gritty reality of the motion picture. While Shange’s words offer great humor and great pain, along with rainbows and rhythmic movements in jazz and salsa, Perry’s adaptation goes a step further by transporting the dance and the words into concrete scenarios played by concrete characters with names, addresses, relatives, partners and careers.

Read the the Full Essay @ Ms. Blog

Is (Black) Beauty Still a Feminist Issue?

from The Huffington Post

Is (Black) Beauty Still a Feminist Issue?
by Imani Perry

Last night I read my friends' tweets about the Miss Universe Pageant. But I didn't watch it. I am an old fashioned feminist when it comes to pageants. They turn my stomach. I find them embarrassing and absurd. But I can't be preachy about my dislike.

After all, I love fashion magazines, the ones filled with fantasies of over-the-top consumption and impossible beauty and I won't apologize for that indulgence, so I have no judgment for pageant watchers. Pageants just aren't for me.

But out of curiosity this morning I looked at the Miss Universe contestants online, inspired by the internet chatter. And lo and behold I was shocked when I realized that Miss Ecuador, Miss Honduras and Miss Nicaragua, were all Latinas of African descent. Only recently have noticeably Indian and African looking women begun to be featured on Latin American television and film, and still in small numbers.

Despite substantial African-descended populations throughout Latin America, they remain even more invisible in U.S. popular culture, notwithstanding the writings of Junot Diaz, Veronica Chambers, and Rosario Ferre, among others, who insightfully depict the fabric of race, history, and culture in Latin American nations.

I must admit, I was excited, to see these brown-skinned contestants, along with those from continental Africa and the Caribbean. That excitement was similar to the thrill I had earlier this year when I encountered the work of fashion photographer, Mario Epanya. Epanya shared his photos in a viral web campaign to have Condé Nast approve an African edition of Vogue Magazine (which they refused). His models have richly colored bodies, full lips, and bright eyes. They are adorned to dramatic effect. They are frankly, stunning.

I don't quite know what to make of my reaction to this brand of Black beauty. What does it mean for me as a feminist? Third and fourth wave feminists have argued that we should reclaim make-up and sexiness, and cast aside the old image of a feminist as a woman with a naked face and hairy legs. Fine, but the reality is that our beauty culture still plays a significant role in women having poor body images, lowered self esteem, and a feeling of intense competitiveness with other women.

I have often found myself wishing that instead of encouraging every woman to feel she is beautiful (which seems to be the central marketing device of most cosmetic companies), that we could find a way to make it such that beauty is not at the center of self-esteem. Who cares if one is beautiful or not? There are so many other ways to be special, of value, attractive, interesting, sexy! As girls, we are sold an idea of an "ideal way to be" that depends far too much on surface and not enough on substance, and we tragically carry that on our shoulders into womanhood.

And yet, I find myself honestly happy about these images of gorgeous women with hair and skin and lips like mine.

As a Black woman, for centuries now, flesh like my flesh has carried the burden of presumed inferiority. Black women have been cast as hypersexual or desexualized, always available yet undesired, ridiculous and often ugly, the mules of the world. Notwithstanding a few beauty icons, public figures, and celebrities, these stereotypic representations are still common. And perhaps this is why the fantasy of a beauty culture that includes Black women has so much allure. Fantastic images of Black women who are desired yet untouchable, pristine, flawless, and admired, lie so contrary to how we have been cast throughout history. And that feels kind of good.

But of course, as enjoyable as those images can be, we must not allow them to distract us from the daily work of feminism and gender liberation. The recent reports of sexual violence in Haiti and the Congo, sexual exploitation and trafficking here in the States, honor killings in the Middle East, are each the tip of a very large iceberg. The iceberg itself is a global culture in which the devaluation of humanity and the denial of fundamental respect are all too common. Feminism is, at it's very best, a call for humanism with a global reach. Pretty is nothing compared to that.

My personal resolution on the beauty issue is this: When images of physical beauty serve to diminish the depth of a woman's personhood, we should reject them. And when they seem to restore an appreciation of that which has been devalued, or to be attached to an open sense of expressiveness, play, and fun, then we should feel free to enjoy them. But in either case, our eyes must always be focused on actual lives, not just screens and pages in a magazine.

Follow Imani Perry on Twitter: www.twitter.com/imaniperry

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Imani Perry is Professor in the Center for African American Studies, Princeton University

Feminism of the Future Relies on Men

The Female Factor
Feminism of the Future Relies on Men
by Katrin Beenhold

In 1965, my mother was the only female engineering student in her class in Germany. There were no ladies’ toilets except in the basement, where the cleaners had their lockers, and her professor urged her to find a husband quickly so she wouldn’t fail the exams.

Feminism in those days was pretty clear-cut: It was about women closing ranks to battle blatant sexism, get an education and go to work. It was, as my mother said recently, “about women pushing into the world of men.”

The feminism of the future is shaping up to be about pulling men into women’s universe — as involved dads, equal partners at home and ambassadors for gender equality from the cabinet office to the boardroom.

In the early 21st century, women in the developed world find themselves in a peculiar place. With boys failing in school and working-class men losing their jobs to the economic crisis, pundits predict not just The Death of Macho (Foreign Policy, September 2009) but The End of Men (The Atlantic, July/August 2010).

Reality is more nuanced. Women earn more doctorates, but less money. They are overtaking men in the work force, but still do most housework. They make the consumer decisions but run only 3 percent of Fortune 500 companies.

“In theory, we now have equal rights,” sighed one senior female executive at a French multinational, who tellingly requested anonymity for fear of riling the men at her company. “In practice, we still have babies.”

In the Western world, motherhood remains the barrier to gender equality. Until they have children, young women now earn nearly the same as men and climb the career ladder at a similar pace. With the babies often come career breaks, part-time work and a rushed two-shift existence that means sacrificing informal networks like the after hours beer-and-bonding experience often crucial at promotion time.

So far, the instinct of politicians, companies and women themselves has generally been to sharpen their focus on, well, women.

Many Western countries protect female jobs during maternity leave, and several offer mothers a right to cut back their hours. In the corporate world, (female) human resource officers lobby for flexible work time, and (female) diversity officers organize female mentoring programs. Female executive networks where the ladies can bond are booming. At countless women’s conferences, women debate with women about women and bond some more.

At best, those initiatives are good for tips and morale. At worst, they trap women in their role as primary carers. What they’re not doing is getting more women into leadership positions.

“We’ve got to wake up,” said Avivah Wittenberg-Cox, chief executive of 20-first, a gender management consultancy. “We’ve got to start focusing on the guys.”

The only thing that can level the playing field at work is a level playing field at home. And that requires a major shift in public policy and corporate culture.

In the few countries where fathers take paternity leave on a significant scale, that leave is highly paid and not transferable to the mother. Predictably, the Nordics have led the way. Iceland, which comes closest to reaching gender equality according to the World Economic Forum’s gender gap index, has gone furthest, reserving three months — a full third — of its leave for fathers. Nine in 10 Icelandic men take time off with their babies. A lawmaker, Drifa Hjartardottir, described the 2000 law as “one of the biggest and most important steps taken towards gender equality since women’s right to vote.”

It took a male prime minister to sell the legislation to the country, and it took male leaders in Sweden and Norway to pass similar laws. It was a man who championed Norway’s boardroom quota obliging companies to fill at least 40 percent of the seats with women.

Would a female Spanish prime minister have been able to appoint a cabinet that is 50 percent female in 2004?

Unlikely, thinks Celia de Anca, of IE Business School in Madrid. “When you want to change a culture,” she said, “it’s easier for a representative of that culture to sell the change.”

Basically, guys are the more effective feminists because other guys are more likely to listen to them.

Read the Full Essay @ The New York Times

The Media’s Obsession with Unmarried Black Women

The Media v. Black Women:
The Peculiar Case of the Media’s Obsession with Unmarried Black Women
by Diane Lucas

By now, everyone in the country with access to a television, the internet or a book store has gotten the memo that black women marry at a dismally low rate compared to women of other races. We’ve seen and read it in the Economist, The Washington Post, U.S. News, Essence Magazine, Ebony and on The View, Oprah, and Nightline, among others. We know that of the hetero-black male population, there are significant numbers of black men incarcerated, lower rates of higher education, and disproportionate numbers of black men marrying outside of their race, as compared to black women. We heard that even setting aside those factors, there are fewer black men than woman in the U.S. population. No one is denying that there is an issue. It’s been an issue for a while now. So why the New York Times recently published what seems like the millionth and one article on why black women can’t find a man is absolutely baffling.

I have been thinking a lot about this issue and discussing it with friends — black and white, male and female — to pinpoint precisely why these articles bother me so much. I, like many other black feminists/womanists, constantly call for more discussion of issues affecting black women and other women of color in the mainstream media. Black relationships and the black family are important mainstream topics. But the media is obsessed with unmarried black women. One black woman commenting on the ABC Nightline post put it best — she said she is waiting for the article about black women tripping down altars riddled with reporters and social scientists. The inundation of these articles, T.V. specials, and books is an attack on black women. The overall message conveyed is unproductive and harmful.

Specifically, here’s my beef (and bear with me, because I have a lot of it):

Blame Game

The media often places the blame on black women for their perceived inability to find successful black men, especially when black women become more educated and achieve greater success in their careers. Although some articles and T.V. specials acknowledge the disparate number of available black men vís a vís black women due to the racialization of the criminal justice system, the discussion rarely turns to how black men can improve their romantic interactions with black women. Rather, the media often focuses on black women and their “issues.” Many of these articles, T.V. specials and books are purposed to instruct black women on how to be more desirable to black men or how to lower their standards. A prime example is the book The Denzel Principle: Why a Black Woman Can’t Find a Good Black Man, which blames black women for setting their standards too high — they apparently only want Denzel Washington, not the mail man.

The Nightline multi-part special entitled “Why Can’t a Successful Black Woman Find a Man?” sent the message that, as the title implies, black women are to blame for many of their problems finding a man. The Nightline special posed questions that begged for “experts” (including Steve Harvey, a comedian, whose “expertise” on black women and relationships remains unclear) to figure out what is wrong with black women. Are they too strong? Too powerful? Too aggressive? Too demanding? Of course, these stereotypical characteristics of black women are the same traits often attributed to successful people generally, regardless of race or gender. So the take away to black women is that the very characteristics that made you successful are the same ones that will keep you single, lonely, and of course unhappy.

Instead of being asked to make a choice between being either strong and independent or married, black women would be better served if our strengths were celebrated and not demonized, and if we were recognized as individuals. Black women would fare better if writers, experts and social scientists would take a break from hyper-examining and over-analyzing us to figure out what our “problems” are.

Read the Full Essay @ Feministe

Diane Lucas is a Attorney in New York City