My Relationship with Feminism
The first of many attempts at defining it….
I first thought of it with negative connotations. I probably heard of the word first when I was in high school and I thought it was a load of BS because at that point, I never had felt discriminated against in any way BECAUSE I was female. I was grateful for my parents, friends and community who never made me feel like a minority or victim. Maybe it had to do with the fact that I spent my whole school life in all-girls institutions. Maybe it had to do with the fact that I lived in this bubble called Dubai.
I moved to India when I was about 15 or 16 and still, I didn’t feel much about this word or sentiment called feminism. ‘Eve-teasing’ was more of rotten people to watch out for and not thought of as men lashing out against women — that was so evident it never even crossed my mind. It was there in my face when Mount Carmel’s all female comedy sketch group was never encouraged as much as boys college groups.
Fast forward to a few years later when I’m roomies with a 30 year old Russian woman for a week. This attractive blonde Caucasian who had no cellulite which to my naive self was the definition of winning life. We got into this conversation about men, marriage and commitment and she told me how sex ratios in her country were skewed so women were always competing for men. There was a moment when she commended the fact that all said and done, the concept of loyalty exists in Indian marriages. It was true — I thought about the average middle aged Indian couple. Hardly picture perfect looks wise but whoever heard of a divorce because one uncle got a beer belly or an aunty had more tires than saree pleats. Indian women have the freedom to ‘let go’ but a woman from her country, her own 65 year old mother, had to constantly keep themselves looking great because their men had roving eyes. Her taut bod was not entirely genetic, she worked for it. I chimed in with my whole ‘yeah, I’m totally planning on considering this diet next month’ bit and she gave me some sincere tips on how to go about it.
However, we both then recollected how earlier in the day this Indian male colleague was pestering her so openly by over enthusiastically offering to show her around the city. It was my first time in this city unlike her but no such lecherous offers this way. He was probably married so we agreed that Indian men don’t act on it as much but are jerks too. Nothing profound about two gals agreeing on male chauvinism. More diet+exercise talk followed and she was so sincere on getting me motivated that I mentally promised to at least Google her techniques (included one 40 days of tea diet). She said I would be so happy when I saw the results. Then with a sly smile, she added that when a man becomes a quivering mess to your sexuality it’s an effin’ high. I should think about that the next time I see rice.
It wasn’t until the end of 2013 that I decided to consciously do something about my physical appearance. I for one was not having the glorious American experience (I will dedicate a post to this soon) and at any point I had a minimum of five things I hated about Boston (by extension, ‘this country!’), more so this grad school life. But one thing that I immediately noticed and admired was how fit people were — the females especially.
If you say anything about gymming amongst Indian people, it is sure to be met with guffaws. I honestly used to think only brawny men hung out at gyms. I still don’t know girls in India who take squat challenges and FitTea resolutions like the females here. At first I attributed it to the lack of ‘real problems’ here. Women here can afford to reject gluten with a vengeance and run for an hour a day whereas back home she has to use all her energy in NOT attracting attention. Regardless, I had to admit that there is no conversation about fitness and exercise for girls in the Indian context. Body image takes mainstage in a girl’s late teens/early twenties and the aim is to ‘look slim’ — never about embracing YOUR body type or being fit. I knew of girls who were crazy dedicated to losing weight and they did, but it was never a lifestyle. Girls here were all about being strong and fit and they were on this track much, much earlier than their twenties. This was the first time feminism as a sentiment made sense — this ‘right’ to be the best looking you can physically be. By extension, a right to be the best version of yourself.
Are Indian women able to be the best version of themselves?
I will end this unstructured musing with an incident that transpired two years ago in New York. It was my first time in the city and I was going to check out the Statue of Liberty that Sunday. That whole Wall Street stretch was eerily empty, I remember. I can’t believe I am going to revisit this distressing incident. Anyway. I was on the cruise and once I got on board the ferry, I realized that most of the folks were Indians. Families — mom, dad, child, grandparents — and then this trio. Three men, tight shirts, gelled hair, shameless stares. South Asian. Not South Indian. Too familiar.
They noticed the single Indian girl during the ride that. On the island, I was approached by one of these men. He asked me to take a picture of him (?) and I should have just said no, like my intuition was screaming, but I obliged. So awkward. Like, why would you hand me your phone and ask me to take a picture of you? It was probably to see how I would respond, in retrospect.
I was out of touch. Rebuking men is something that you do so routinely in India that you rarely think twice about it. I had softened up a bit and didn’t react as caustically. So far, the Statue of Liberty hadn’t been quite as engaging as my reflexes. The ride back was the limit. The man who wanted me to take his picture spent the whole journey staring at me through the crowd. It’s almost 25 min, that ferry ride. Now usually, I would have ignored this all completely and hoped that the man would soon move on with his life. I wouldn’t want to ’cause a scene’. But something about that day, that moment, got me livid. I had paid some amount — probably $15-$20 — to get on this boat and have this touristy experience. Instead, I experienced two hours of anxiety. Its bad enough that you oppress Indian women back home but to come all the way to fuckin New York City and still have that same mentality? This would not have happened had I been a Caucasian tourist. Solo women travelers are often portrayed as white women. I wonder when I see these pictures in magazines if they have to fear being stalked even in developed countries.
We got to the harbor and this idiot had the audacity to hum as he walked past me. Like, I have been staring at you and I want you to know that. This sadistic move was the last straw. I alerted the security on board that I was being sexually harassed. I had never used those words before. Never had I seen myself as a victim as much even when eve teased in buses in India or stared at by construction workers in Dubai, but the fact that an Indian woman can be well educated, go abroad, travel by herself only to be reminded… ‘we can always make you feel uncomfortable, put you in your place’.
The guys got away even after I identified them. I spent the next 2 hours a little tense that I would run into them somewhere in that area. They could very well take revenge. That incident lingered on in my mind for the next few days. I didn’t post anything online immediately because I knew the ones who would face the backlash would be my awesome Indian brothers surviving grad school, hustling overseas, succeeding… And occasionally on Tinder. People have chosen to brand South Asian men as misogynistic when really, it is a class based problem. These men did not get here on an F1 visa and I know that becaus I have lived in India. I can tell.
Since then, I have been a lot more mindful to sexist situations and I have realized that misogynistic behavior assumes different forms depending on where you are from. This dialogue on feminism is not meant to be global discourse. Most of society’s problems are not general. Each country, each society and to an extent culture has something to do with why what happens, happens. Belittling the issue to one notion when in reality there are so many dimensions to it is careless. And I take it on myself, as a third culture kid, to voice the many facets.
(If ever there was a more roundabout way of calling for diversity in content…)
