I’m always a little distrustful of conference dances. You know, the Saturday night affairs in the ballroom of the hotel where all the scholars you’ve seen pore over papers with academic language or activists you’ve watched try to fit their work into words, shed their pens and lexicon and shimmy to a bad DJ?
Well, I approached the National Women’s Studies Association’s annual conference dance, back in June, with the same apprehension and was pleasantly surprised to find that feminist scholars—especially those of the third wave variety—were out on the dance floor, doing their thing, and doing their thing remarkably well. One such dancer was Astrid Henry, who I later found out wrote an important book about intergenerational feminism called Not My Mother’s Sister: Generational Conflict and Third-Wave Feminism. She teaches at St. Mary's College where I'll be heading later this month to talk about my own book, thanks to her colleague Amanda Littauer.
The book is academic in its approach and no doubt dense, but it is written with a vocabulary that the average college gal wouldn’t have a hard time getting through. The content is largely focused on the spuriously (see, I can sound academic too) framework of feminist mothers and daughters as a substitute for second and third waves.
For the uninitiated, “second wave feminism� is thought of as that generation of ladies who were radicalized during the 60s and 70s, largely inspired by the spirit of the civil rights movement, but discouraged by its misogynist leadership. The “third wave� is positioned as those who were at the forefront of re-writing feminism into the mainstream dialogue again starting in the early 90s (Naomi Wolf, Katie Roiphe, Rebecca Walker etc.), on up through all of Seal’s great books (hint, hint), Manifesta, and today...
Henry writes eloquently about why it makes sense that the two waves of feminism have been pitted against one another in a mother-daughter fashion—after all, many third wavers actually were raised by second wavers—but she also makes a strong case for why this dichotomy is limiting and inaccurate.
There is no monolithic feminist identity, after all, at any age. Some women who were radicalized during the 70s were really focused on sexual politics, like the late, great Ellen Willis. (Speaking of which, Ellen's daughter Nona is setting out on a big ole' tour of the country to talk to young women. I'll keep you posted on that as it evolves.)
Sex positive feminism, is not, as so many third wavers have framed it, an invention of the young and hip. Likewise, while many second wavers act like the next generation is unconcerned with real, political issues—apathetic except when it comes to shoe shopping—one need only look at this blog or the Third Wave Foundation to see that there are some really committed political thinkers coming out of the youngest generation.
Too often, Henry argues, the third wave has used a shallow process to define their process—“disidentification.� In other words, we have defined our feminism by what it is not—not dowdy, not anti-men, not angry (all popular misconceptions of what second wave feminism was/is). The second wave defined their feminism in opposition to the patriarchic leftist movements of the time, essentially inventing themselves from scratch with a strong homage to the first wave (notably, a group of feminists that were long dead, unable to talk back to their characterizations.)
Our feminism is essentially a mash up of already existing tracks. We must define ourselves in opposition to a version that is still alive and kicking, sometimes irritated by our reinvention of what they see as a movement that already dealt with some of the issues we are convinced we invented (sex, work/family balance etc.)
So, the answer? Shed the comfortable skin of mother and daughter. Seek alliances across generations. Find sex positive 70-year-olds and politically conscious 14-year-olds. Join forces. Make change. Learn your history. Listen to the youngins. Refocus on the true enemy—oppression and ignorance. Henry ends her book provocatively:
The attention on generational differences has dramatically shifted feminism’s focus from external enemies to internal ones. If feminism is indeed like a family, it would be wise of us not to forget its absent father.
Next Week: Brother, I’m Dying by Edwidge Dandicat
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I love this book! It sparked many conversations with my own mother and made me reevaluate my own opinions about what it means to be a third wave feminist.
Thanks for the tip; the book has been ordered and I look forward to reading it!
If feminism is indeed like a family, it would be wise of us not to forget its absent father.
I can't be the only one who found that phrasing a little bizarre. Or am I?
Loved dancing with you and Astrid, C! Great read on NMMS!
I am so excited to see this review! I love this book and highly recommend it. Also, I thought the part regarding the absent father was a really powerful conclusion :)