Seeking A Foundation For Beliefs

At a conference recently, I had an experience that has stayed with me - an experience in which I had to decide who I was.

A woman came up to me in anger: “You used to be a feminist,” she said. “But I can tell from your talk today that you aren’t one now. Your work has been important to me, but now you’ve turned out like all the rest. I’ll have to find others to inspire me.”

The next afternoon, a man came up to me. He, too, was very angry. “I’ve read all your books. You seemed to be an advocate for men. But after your presentation today, I can see you’re just another feminist. I’m so tired of the feminist line. I’m sorry to see you get sucked down that black hole.”

“I’m an advocate for men and women,” I wanted to say. “Aren’t you? We’re all larger than the boxes people put us in, aren’t we?”

On and on I could have gone, but I held my peace with both people because I sensed that there was a gift for me in these conversations. I sensed it was one of those times each of us reach, at least a few times a year, when we are challenged by fate, crisis, community, family or personal pressure to solidify our identity.

I began my inner search with a look at my foundations. What were they in regard to “feminism?”

The answer came: One primary principle of my community life is to champion the needs of women. I moved on to the cracks in the foundation: I have known for years that the word “feminism” isn’t useful anymore unless preceded by an adjective - “gender feminist” or “equity feminist” or “victim feminist” or “radical feminist” or “new feminist.”

The foundation cracks were the key. For I knew that none of these adjectives really fit me. The foundation of my political identity was not solid. It needed fixing.

The needs of the women’s community are not, I realized, the single-most important need of the whole community. Fixing my foundation would mean re-thinking. So I made a list of other groups whose needs I felt to be just as important as women’s.

I came up with: children, men and larger community .

The sacredness of the individual’s spirituality. By spirituality I mean a person’s “rational faith.”

I wished that angry woman and man were still around. I was glad they had confronted me, because they forced my search. Now, I thought, I could better answer them.

But, still, was I a feminist or not?

The question haunted me for weeks. In fact, hasn’t it haunted me since 1990, when I became known as a “men’s advocate”?

I found myself going through stages of growth as I revisited the history of my feminism. I recalled my infatuation with the term as a teenager and in my early 20s when feminism seemed a way to save our society.

I recalled disappointments and power struggles that followed the infatuation when I realized it was not a salvation but a light to help direct my path.

I recalled turning against feminism, then finding it again.

All this came back to me as I searched my soul for who I was now, in 1995, on the day summer became fall.

And the phrase came to me: “You’re a family feminist.”

I felt the incredible rush we feel when we have worked for days, even months, on a personal challenge and finally heard the voice we have strived so hard to hear.

That this happened to me at the change of seasons seemed fitting. Wouldn’t we all be healthier if we re-visited our identity at least four times a year?

So, I have become a family feminist - a person for whom the concerns of women, children, men, community and spiritual search are all equally important, yet a person inspired in a unique way by the inspiring voices from our community of women.

The gift I received in my struggle following the conference was a gift of identity.

In the last few weeks, I’ve used the term “family feminist” in my presentations and conversations and felt rewards in self-esteem and in my solid contribution to public debate.

I hope everyone will struggle with who they are in their own field of debate and contribution.

What could be more wonderful than to be able to say, even if only for one season at a time, “Yes, this is who I am.”

The following fields overflowed: CREDIT = Michael Gurian The Spokesman-Review