Name: Anonymous 2015-12-20 0:29
I've tried to be quiet about these kinds of issues. Out of fear for my professional reputation, out of fear that the social backlash for speaking up would be too great. All too often I've watched as any male who questioned anything about contemporary feminists was metaphorically tarred and feathered.
And also out of fear that my criticism would be misused, that feminism's political opponents might take my criticism as support for their misogyny.
Let me begin by saying that for years I identified as a feminist. In college I had an amazing professor who taught me that feminism was about empowering women, giving women the same rights and privileges that I, as a man, enjoyed. That was something I could get behind completely, and without hesitation. I believe most thoughtful men of my generation would agree. I still have massive respect for her, as she opened my eyes to an issue I had previously been blind to. One of the amazing things about her was that she was incredibly positive about sex. Before taking classes with her, I had a vague notion of feminists as angry women who wanted to demasculate men. I learned that this was not true. She respected masculinity and male sexuality, and helped me understand that working towards a world of equality did not threaten either of those things.
When I chose a new career path a couple years ago, and began the process of integrating myself into the community of software developers, I noticed something odd. There was a very vocal movement, a movement that labeled itself feminism, which was working to bring women into tech. I had noticed the strange lack of women in technology, and thought this was a noble cause. I still do. But for some reason, many of the people involved in this movement, seemed threatened by male sexuality. It was incredibly frustrating for me to find myself in a culture where a very important part of my identity, the part that enjoys a good dirty joke shared with co-workers (male and female alike), flirts shamelessly (but remains respectful of boundaries), and revels in punnery and innuendo, was considered something bad, something to lock away, something I must hide. I had previously worked in fields where genders were more balanced, or even during my brief time as a teacher, in a field where I was the minority. Yet never had I been told, or felt, that this aspect of my personality was problematic, or something bad, or hurtful. In those environments, women were just as likely to tell a tawdry or ribald joke as the men, were often the first to initiate flirting, and as likely to ogle any attractive men around them as the men were to ogle them.
The last time I'd felt like this, actually, was my childhood. I was raised in a very conservative Christian church until I was about ten years old. A church where pre-marital sex was a sin, and married people were only supposed to be having sex in order to procreate, not to enjoy it. The kind of impossible standard no one could possibly live up to. The kind of standard intended to make all people feel shame and guilt.
And also out of fear that my criticism would be misused, that feminism's political opponents might take my criticism as support for their misogyny.
Let me begin by saying that for years I identified as a feminist. In college I had an amazing professor who taught me that feminism was about empowering women, giving women the same rights and privileges that I, as a man, enjoyed. That was something I could get behind completely, and without hesitation. I believe most thoughtful men of my generation would agree. I still have massive respect for her, as she opened my eyes to an issue I had previously been blind to. One of the amazing things about her was that she was incredibly positive about sex. Before taking classes with her, I had a vague notion of feminists as angry women who wanted to demasculate men. I learned that this was not true. She respected masculinity and male sexuality, and helped me understand that working towards a world of equality did not threaten either of those things.
When I chose a new career path a couple years ago, and began the process of integrating myself into the community of software developers, I noticed something odd. There was a very vocal movement, a movement that labeled itself feminism, which was working to bring women into tech. I had noticed the strange lack of women in technology, and thought this was a noble cause. I still do. But for some reason, many of the people involved in this movement, seemed threatened by male sexuality. It was incredibly frustrating for me to find myself in a culture where a very important part of my identity, the part that enjoys a good dirty joke shared with co-workers (male and female alike), flirts shamelessly (but remains respectful of boundaries), and revels in punnery and innuendo, was considered something bad, something to lock away, something I must hide. I had previously worked in fields where genders were more balanced, or even during my brief time as a teacher, in a field where I was the minority. Yet never had I been told, or felt, that this aspect of my personality was problematic, or something bad, or hurtful. In those environments, women were just as likely to tell a tawdry or ribald joke as the men, were often the first to initiate flirting, and as likely to ogle any attractive men around them as the men were to ogle them.
The last time I'd felt like this, actually, was my childhood. I was raised in a very conservative Christian church until I was about ten years old. A church where pre-marital sex was a sin, and married people were only supposed to be having sex in order to procreate, not to enjoy it. The kind of impossible standard no one could possibly live up to. The kind of standard intended to make all people feel shame and guilt.