Many visions of power — International Women’s Day by Anastasiia Fedorova
One of the most prominent features in the cityscape of Ukraine’s capital Kyiv is the Motherland Monument, a statue of a woman holding a sword and a shield. The statue is 102 meters tall, weighs 560 tonnes and towers above the National Museum of the History of Ukraine in the Second World War. The monument is one of the many traces of the oppressive Soviet regime and its megalomaniac vision, which is at the core of the devastating war tearing the country apart at this very moment. But the eerie grandeur of the statue of the mother protector is still mesmerising — partly as a display of heavily gendered power. Since I saw it for the first time, I kept thinking, what constitutes the motherly and womanly in its design? Is it the facial features, the lips, the eyes, the clothes, the breasts, the posture, the wrist holding the sword? We all are raised on images and role models from the past. But in the world which is both rapidly moving towards the global digital tomorrow and is seemingly doomed to repeat history, how do we find power as women?
“Power comes in many forms. Power is in creativity, mutual support, agency, freedom of expression, self-exploration, pleasure and joy”
Growing up in the 2000s, I mostly got my ideas of femininity from pop culture — and they couldn’t have been further from silent imposing monuments. Jennifer Lopez in that green Versace silk dress, an array of supermodels like Naomi Campbell and Kate Moss, maybe even Paris Hilton marking the dawn of reality TV. Of course, these examples are very surface-level, but this is how I learnt about femininity and beauty — beauty as a commodity and beauty as a mold to model myself by. In my early adulthood, I continued learning about femininity mostly from books. I read Joan Didion, Audre Lorde and Sarah Schulman and contemplated that they should have a more prominent place in the curriculum, wishing that I had discovered them sooner.
Regardless of the ways we’ve learnt about femininity and its expressions, the political landscape of recent years has been increasingly complex for women. We’ve seen the rise of the #MeToo movement condemning systemic sexual abuse and Black Lives Matter protests worldwide. We’ve been navigating our way through the global COVID-19 pandemic and wars in multiple corners of the world. Whether raising their fists at BLM marches or painting a crimson lightning bolt on their faces to protest the abortion ban in Poland, women have been a vision of power. But we also have to remember that power comes in many forms. Power is in creativity, mutual support, agency, freedom of expression, self-exploration, pleasure and joy.
“We all are raised on images and role models from the past. But in the world which is both rapidly moving towards the global digital tomorrow and is seemingly doomed to repeat history, how do we find power as women?”
Today, we are finding a new language for gender. Non-binary identity (with Demi Lovato and Sam Smith among its role models and advocates) proves that there are ways to think about gender beyond the binary. We are more open to the idea that gender is a culturally scripted performance, based on social norms rather than biology. In the queer community I belong to, this idea is promising, enriching and exciting. Gender can be fluid, expansive, playful — a place of endless possibilities to embrace masculine, feminine, or something entirely new and different.
In the last few years, I have contemplated identifying as non-binary. What seemed unclear is what do I do with the communities, history and experiences acquired as a woman? What I learnt is that my gender identity doesn’t mean these things are less valuable and meaningful — actually the opposite. The meaning of being a woman today is something that can always be rediscovered. It shouldn’t be used for limiting us — and that includes trans women who are often excluded from spaces and movements.
I have worked in creative industries for nearly a decade. Creativity is my profession, my main mode of existence, my day-to-day reality. In this context, it’s easy to forget that creativity is something that wasn’t meant for women. For centuries, art, literature and performance were inaccessible because of the repressive social structures that limited women’s education and professional independence. Even today it remains an issue — I learnt more about it last year through Hettie Judah’s brilliant work on how not to exclude artists mothers and parents.
In 2021, I have worked with incredible women and non-binary people who are continuously rethinking the place of our communities, our bodies, our minds in the world. Designer Sinead O’Dwyer and her radical vision of fashion which forms itself to your body rather than constricting it. Artist and model Jade O’Belle who uses her body and mind to create a new culture of visibility, kindness and sensuality. Meriam Trabelsi a nd Caroline Suinner of Pehmee Collective who focus on marginalised bodies and unapologetic self-care. Photographer Anna Sampson and organiser and martial artist Black Venus who restlessly create spaces for sex workers in the creative world. Ella Boucht (who is non-binary) who works with history and representation of butch women.
“The meaning of being a woman today is something that can always be rediscovered”
I believe that creative representation is crucial. It is a visceral expression of our joy, a direct argument for our existence as cultural subjects not muses. It is an invitation to believe in the future where we dare to imagine endless possibilities.
When I think about women’s day, I want to see more women in science in tech, women designing buildings, fonts, software, and planning cities. I believe that with every coming day there are more possibilities for us to determine how we can be — to be inspired by women who came before us, to outgrow the boundaries which were created to hold us back.
By Anastasiia Fedorova
