How I Became a Feminist
Zen zealots would shudder at the average middle school yoga class. These are not always the quiet meditative adult style classes full of peace seeking vegetarians and people full of quiet deliberate contemplation. These are middle schoolers, the bullet train phase of human development. Moments of peace come but it is often a hard fought peace full of frequent redirection. Moments of peace occur, however, and over persistent time it will become a true yoga experience.
We were halfway through a series of sun salutations when Ashley blurted “Jeff, who did you vote for?” Ah, politics. It was two days after Obama’s victory and it was fresh on everybody’s minds. Although I frequently engaged in politalk with staff I generally avoided that topic with students. I told Ashley that I preferred to keep my vote to myself. She persisted, however.
I was still stuck in my low lunge so I sat on the ground and said.
“Well, I prefer to keep my vote to myself but I tend to favor candidates who believe in the same things I do: social justice, equality for all etc. And of course since I work for schools I tend to favor candidates who will support public education both philosophically and financially.”
“I knew it! You voted for Obama didn’t you!?”
It’s easier to lie to my mother than to lie to a middle schooler. The election was over. It was a historic occasion and so I figured what the heck.
“Yes I voted for Obama but I actually favored Hillary in the primary.”
“Why did you vote for Hillary?’
Without skipping a beat I said “I voted for Hillary because I’m a feminist. I think it’s time women got a chance to be president. They’ve only been able to vote for less than one hundred years. Plus I think we need a no nonsense person in the Middle East.”
Ashley was briefly quiet. A strange, awkward and uncomfortable look came over her face. Then she blurted out again.
“Oh my God, you’re a homosexual? But I thought you were married?!”
“What?”
“You just said you were a homosexual. I thought you were married.”
“No, I said I was a feminist. What makes you think I’m a homosexual? Besides what if I was? Would that make any difference in how you looked at me?”
Kids who came into my room knew I had zero tolerance for bigotry of any stripe. I had a familiar mantra that perhaps some had memorized through their years of contact with me. I do not allow ethnic, racial, religious, gender, class, social, sexual preference or political slurs of any type. They knew this but still slipped with the common and familiar slurs of puberty.
“Faggot”
“That’s so gay.”
With these slips I had another refrain I repeated.
“You know evidence shows that the more people make fun of gay people the more they are confused about their own sexuality. And that’s no big deal because I want you to know I support you in any choices you make. But I’m the drug and alcohol counselor so I don’t really know much about that stuff. I can, however, refer you to a specialist in that area if you wish. Would you like to stay after group so we can talk about that in private some more?”
I would often follow this up with stating that sometimes I really wished I was gay because when I talked to my wife I often had difficulty transcending the male female communication gap. I would joke and say if I was talking to a man at least we’d be talking the same language.
I consciously played upon their insecurities while at the same time reinforcing my zero tolerance policy and it usually worked to get my point across. Inevitably one kid would ask if I was gay and I had the same comeback every time.
“No I’m not actually but would it matter if I was? Would you treat me differently?”
Ashley had sat through more than one of these lectures but clearly had missed a few key points. She clearly hadn’t paid attention during my “you girls need to stick together and quit tearing each other down because there’s plenty of people waiting in line to tear you down” lectures either.
I began to grasp the tendrils of Ashley’s thought patterns. She equated being a feminist with being a homosexual. Wow. I still had a lot of education to do.
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