By Jove’s Blog Editor Woody shares some musings on a subject very close to his, and The Company’s respective hearts.
Hello. It’s Woody here. Long time no see. Terribly sorry that we’ve not posted anything up here for a while. I won’t bore you with the reasons. Just know that from now on I shall ensure you have something new and interesting to read on here every Tuesday.
We have just passed an important anniversary. My very first post for this blog (which you can read here) was published a little over a year ago and was entitled “On Bearded Feminism”. I am, if anything more bearded than I was, and (despite not getting the badge I was promised) still claim the label ‘feminist’ for myself. Thus, I thought it worthwhile to share some relevant thoughts I’ve had in the interceding time. Then as now, I hope you’ll take my musings for what they are: well-meaning if ignorant, and written in the overly-long sentences of a student of Classical Latin.
A beard, as seen on a feminist.
Feminism was first explained to me as striving for equality for all genders, sexes, and sexualities. I like equality so I’m in favour of it. There are discussions to be had about what true equality will entail – equality of opportunity vs of result, for example – but I think we can all agree it’s a good thing. I wrote last year that I believe feminism, destruction of the patriarchy, and similar struggles for equality will personally and directly benefit me – white, male, heterosexual, and middle-class, though I am. I still believe this. However, I recognise that in the vast majority of cases my gender and sex either don’t factor or are positive factors for me. In those cases where societal constructs of how male heterosexuals should behave do negatively affect me, I still come out ahead. Society isn’t saying I shouldn’t be one, for instance. So, if my commitment to my most recent -ism is to be anything other than a farce, I need to have non-selfish reasons for it, and to know what I can actively do to help.
We’ll start with the non-selfish reasons. People who aren’t male and heterosexual are human. I know. It’s shocking, but it is true. Take a moment to let that sink in. If these people are as human as me (They are. They can pass any test of human-ness at least as well as I can.) they deserve to be treated as humans. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s a good reason to want to help. We’ve done one of the things on our agenda. Big tick. Gold stars for everyone who got that one right.
Now, what can I do to help these other humans? First and most important is not to get in the way. Before I do or say anything I need to ask myself “Is this the sort of thing an unmitigated arse might do?” If it is I don’t do it. If as many people as possible follow this rule, then progress will be less impeded. There are some wonderful humans with the time, ability, and energy to strive for this progress. They are improving things despite the continued unmitigated-arse-ness of certain other humans. The work is being done, and successes are being won. They’ll continue to be won with or without me. I’ll do my little bit to spread the good arguments about and “raise consciousness”, as I believe it’s known. It’s just being a campaigner strikes me as exhausting and something I’m too disorganised be good at anyway. So I’ll have to content myself to being a spectator on this front.
That said, there must be something I can actively do. I doubt simply refraining from shouting “show us yer tits” in the street has ever earned anyone a medal (we get medals in feminism, right?) I might lack the talents to shape public discourse, but we Bearded Feminists can do our bit to change societal attitudes. The most obvious step to me is jokes. Like a lot of humans I do a lot of my communication via jokes. Jokes are the honey round the medicine cup if you’ll permit me a reference to Latin philosophical poetry. Mocking people putting forward views one considers daft or actively damaging is a useful tool. Having the ridiculousness of a thing pointed out can change behaviour. For example: once at a gig the comedian onstage initiated conversation with me in my front row seat then stared at me in silence to see how Imight fill the silence. I quoted the first paragraph of ‘Richard III’ at him. As a direct result of his reaction and that of my friends I can honestly say that I have neer since recited Shakespeare to an electronically amplified Geordie. Even if you don’t change someone’s mind instantly, you can spark a conversation where you can put forward your opinion on the matter, and try to factually disprove whatever was said. Small acts add up. Calling people out on certain sorts comments and attitudes is the sort of thing that will make the deep changes, the ones which will really improve people’s everyday existence. This amounts to being pedantic and piss-takey with my friends – something I can do with ease.
I quite like to have my newest -ism to have a larger reach than just those people I’m fortunate enough to know personally. Lucky for me I have some talent with certain arts. This is one of the reasons I love being involved with By Jove (I am a loyal servant of The Company). I have a bit of an ego with my art, though, and also do some solo things on which I’ve tried to bring my new-ism to bear. I write stand-up comedy and poetry. It has not been an issue in my comedy for two reasons. First is that sexist jokes are not funny to me, they are bullying and attacking from a position of power which are anathema to me in comedy. So no effort required not to do harm. Second is that low-status characters have always fascinated me comedically. This means I already have built into my onstage persona the habit of flirting unsuccessfully with the front row, a habit I hope shines a light on the ridiculous entitlement some men seem to have re women and romance. In contrast, consciousness of my -ism has affected my poetry at least once. I started writing poetry as an outlet for things I can’t make work in comedy. I have always tried to write my poetry as me, not as a construct based on me, so it’s more affected by my emotions. Awareness of feminism as I perceive it meant I destroyed evidence of one poem despite it having some quite good rhymes and rhythms to it,and instead wrote a far better one in its place. Upset that someone I like didn’t like me in the same way I scrawled a really ranty thing which I’m really happy I never showed anyone. It contained wounded, angry, and above all unpleasant thoughts. I realised I did not want to put those thoughts into the world, let alone with my name attached. I destroyed it. Instead I wrote (and later inexpertly recorded) this, which I think is some of my best work.
So, the result of my musings on my feminism is that I am not going to change the world. I might, however, make the little patch of it near me a bit nicer.
One hopes you’re well,
Yours,
ADWoodward
