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balletbookworm's review
5.0
Thanks to Rebecca @TheBookladysBlog for her review which led me to pick this up and read it - I loved ALL of it!
Good for feminists and non-feminists alike (and you'd be amazed at the number of women who do not self-identify as a feminist for various reasons - but they do support many of the same ideals).
Good for feminists and non-feminists alike (and you'd be amazed at the number of women who do not self-identify as a feminist for various reasons - but they do support many of the same ideals).
pattydsf's review
3.0
I am so glad I found this book. It reaffirms my faith that good ideas last even if I don't do as much as I should to support them. I consider myself a feminist, but I can't say that I have done much lately to support my sisters.
However, there are still women out there fighting the good fight and they are younger and smarter than I am. These 28 women and one man showed me that feminism is alive despite my lack of activism. Maybe these young people will inspire me to do a little more.
This was well worth reading.
However, there are still women out there fighting the good fight and they are younger and smarter than I am. These 28 women and one man showed me that feminism is alive despite my lack of activism. Maybe these young people will inspire me to do a little more.
This was well worth reading.
kittykornerlibrarian's review
5.0
I thoroughly enjoyed this book of thought-provoking essays. Some women had a "click" moment; many did not. I thought it was interesting that a few writers had a "click" moment when they were overtly told they couldn't do something because they were girls. It makes me wonder if overt sexism is easier to battle than the more subtle messaging we tend to get today.
kerickertful's review
3.0
What shocked me most, I guess, while reading this collection of essays, is how reluctant women are to use the label "feminist." I agree that there certainly often is a negative connotation associated with feminism, however I've never experienced this fear to accept the label. I think by labeling who we are, we are, in a way, owning ourselves and directing our futures. If anything, this book is important for women my age to read if only to provide a sense of solidarity and okay-ness with being a feminist.
shelfimprovement's review
5.0
Phylis Schafly made me a feminist. The College Republicans arranged for her to speak at my alma mater when I was sophomore and even though I knew I wasn't going to like what she had to say, I went because I wanted to feel like I was part of the controversy that would ensue. I was able to roll my eyes at most of her bullshit, but then the conversation turned to how women should never, never, never divorce their husbands no matter what. "What about situations where the husband is abusive? What if he rapes his wife?" a student in the audience asked. I will never forget Schafly's response for as long as I live, "That's what marriage is all about!" I fled the auditorium in tears -- my boyfriend at the time had witnessed his then-stepfather raping his mother when he was a child and I couldn't imagine a human being telling him that was what marriage was all about.
Yes, husbands and wives should be forgiving of each other and work through problems, but there are lines that you do not cross. Rape and abuse are so far over the line that it should not need to be explicitly stated that they DO NOT BELONG IN A MARRIAGE. Period. No matter what. There are bad people in this world who do bad things, and if you find yourself married to one of those people, you should have the right to leave that marriage. Especially if you have children. Because being exposed to abuse is going to fuck those children more than divorce will.
Up until that point, I didn't consider myself a feminist. I believed in the equality of the sexes, but I associated feminism with people who said things like "herstory" and "ottowoman," and I did not see that as promoting equality. But after Phylis Schlafly made me cry, I declared a women's studies minor and took as many women's history classes as my college offered. It truly opened my eyes to what feminism was really all about, and I understood that I was a feminist because I believed in their basic principle: that men and women deserve to economic, social, and political equality. It's 2014 and women's sex lives are still being legislated by old men who don't understand biology. We're still being paid $0.83 to the dollar in the US. Women who are raped are often made to feel like it was their fault and not their rapists'. Women have made great strides in terms of achieving equal stature, but the echelons of power are still dominated by men making decisions that affect women in disproportionately negative ways.
Feminism is not a perfect movement -- mostly because feminists disagree with each other about what is best for women, and that can detract from the overall message of equality. But it is too often seen as a dirty word that means "man-hating" and that conversation detracts from the real problems that we face.
Yes, husbands and wives should be forgiving of each other and work through problems, but there are lines that you do not cross. Rape and abuse are so far over the line that it should not need to be explicitly stated that they DO NOT BELONG IN A MARRIAGE. Period. No matter what. There are bad people in this world who do bad things, and if you find yourself married to one of those people, you should have the right to leave that marriage. Especially if you have children. Because being exposed to abuse is going to fuck those children more than divorce will.
Up until that point, I didn't consider myself a feminist. I believed in the equality of the sexes, but I associated feminism with people who said things like "herstory" and "ottowoman," and I did not see that as promoting equality. But after Phylis Schlafly made me cry, I declared a women's studies minor and took as many women's history classes as my college offered. It truly opened my eyes to what feminism was really all about, and I understood that I was a feminist because I believed in their basic principle: that men and women deserve to economic, social, and political equality. It's 2014 and women's sex lives are still being legislated by old men who don't understand biology. We're still being paid $0.83 to the dollar in the US. Women who are raped are often made to feel like it was their fault and not their rapists'. Women have made great strides in terms of achieving equal stature, but the echelons of power are still dominated by men making decisions that affect women in disproportionately negative ways.
Feminism is not a perfect movement -- mostly because feminists disagree with each other about what is best for women, and that can detract from the overall message of equality. But it is too often seen as a dirty word that means "man-hating" and that conversation detracts from the real problems that we face.
zombiezami's review
emotional
informative
reflective
medium-paced
3.75
As with many essay collections, a handful of these were fantastic and memorable, most were fine and interesting, and one or two were like, WTF. I skipped the one about hunting, and the one called "Finding and Making the Reasons" felt out of place and had me rolling my eyes at the author's immaturity. Doesn't feel too dated even though it's over 10 years old at my reading. Some of the essays felt too short, though. I would just be getting into it and then it would end.
Content Warnings
Graphic: Sexism and Misogyny
Moderate: Sexual assault, Eating disorder, Body shaming, Xenophobia, Religious bigotry, Self harm, Pregnancy, Rape, Sexual harassment, Racism, Abortion, Animal death, Blood, Gore, Sexual violence, Ableism, and Alcohol
Minor: Police brutality, Addiction, War, Drug abuse, Suicide, Racial slurs, Antisemitism, and Drug use
emiged's review against another edition
5.0
Every single one of the 29 essays in this book held some nugget of truth that resonated with my own experiences. Each writer told of his or her personal journey coming to embrace feminism on his or her own terms. Some come from liberal backgrounds with card-carrying feminist parents; others were raised in conservative homes. There is a self-described third-world feminist as well as an out-and-proud LGBT activist. There are people from privileged backgrounds and those raised poor in the inner-city. One woman writes about her marriage to a war correspondent; another writes about the myriad voices that crowd her head while she’s staring at her closet trying to decide what to wear for a night out. An African-American man tells of his feminist upbringing by a mother who would never call herself a feminist and an Asian-American women writes of her struggles to feel that she deserves her spot at a prestigious engineering school. Topics as varied as Kurt Cobain’s death, hunting as a rite of passage, and the high school marching band make an appearance, too.
I loved that there wasn’t a single definition of feminism to which they all were held. Jordan Berg Powers defines feminism as “the fundamental and, some would say, dangerous belief that women are, and should be treated as, equals” (41). Sophie Pollitt-Cohen says feminism is “more than just caring that women not be treated like dirt, or believing in basic, vague concepts of equality. It’s taking it upon yourself to be aware of what you are involved in and what is going on around you” (122). Marni Grossman expands the definition further: “Feminism is not about perfection. It’s about the power of speaking one’s truth” (72). I love Winter Miller’s description that “I’m saying anything you can do, I can do, too. Not better, but just as well. Better than some, worse than others but not based on qualities rooted in gender or sex” (102).
They also don’t whitewash their experiences. They discuss the trauma of eating disorders, lack of self-esteem, rape, and abortion; the struggles of growing up with a learning disability or disadvantaged by crushing poverty. One of the essayists acknowledges that “historically feminism has struggled with incorporating perspectives of women (and men) of diverse classes, races, abilities, and experiences” (55). Several writers lament the younger generation of women who are so reluctant to adopt the label, while recognizing their own initial hesitance. But their tone was consistently universal, not trying to elevate any one group over another. Amy Richards states, “We all experience discrimination in different ways, certainly some more severely and less naively than others, but living in a world where anyone is oppressed hinders everyone” (140).
Each essay was thoughtful, intimate, and powerful. They were hilarious, moving, insightful and poignant. Several presented topics in a light I hadn’t before considered or found the perfect words to encapsulate thoughts I hadn’t yet managed to completely formulate. For example, Li Sydney Cornfeld states, “The best way to break a stigma is to out yourself.” That should ring true to any of my LDS friends who, like me, have occasionally found themselves in a conversation with those not of our faith who hold many misconceptions about Mormons. The tone of the conversation shifts as soon as I address the inaccuracies by saying, “Well, I’m a Mormon. We believe in Christ, have dances at our church buildings all the time, and my husband only has one wife.” The stigma of “Mormon” starts to fade at least for that person as they discover that what they’ve “known” about Mormons doesn’t match the reality of the person standing in front of them.
That’s not to say that I agree with everything that was written in this book. But I deeply appreciate that inclusiveness is a recurring theme; we don’t have to agree on every issue to be part of the same community. Anitra Cottledge says, “For me, feminism has always been about choice. It’s about being able to choose what to call yourself, what to wear, what issues to take up, what battles to fight. What kind of feminist – or womanist, or person – would I be if I didn’t at least respect someone’s choice to locate themselves within feminism in a way that feels comfortable for them?” (65).
One thing that struck me consistently was their insistence on embracing the difficulties and contradictions inherent in life and working through them. While life might be simpler or calmer (on the surface) if one chooses not to rock the boat, it takes a certain level of integrity and self-knowledge to fight against societal assumptions that not everyone perceives as being unequal or problematic. And over and over again, these people describe doing just that. “The good thing about telling the truth,” claims Karen Pittelman, “not the problem, as I’d once thought – is that then we have to do something about it” (119). That’s the best definition of integrity I’ve ever read.
For more book reviews, come visit my blog, Build Enough Bookshelves.
I loved that there wasn’t a single definition of feminism to which they all were held. Jordan Berg Powers defines feminism as “the fundamental and, some would say, dangerous belief that women are, and should be treated as, equals” (41). Sophie Pollitt-Cohen says feminism is “more than just caring that women not be treated like dirt, or believing in basic, vague concepts of equality. It’s taking it upon yourself to be aware of what you are involved in and what is going on around you” (122). Marni Grossman expands the definition further: “Feminism is not about perfection. It’s about the power of speaking one’s truth” (72). I love Winter Miller’s description that “I’m saying anything you can do, I can do, too. Not better, but just as well. Better than some, worse than others but not based on qualities rooted in gender or sex” (102).
They also don’t whitewash their experiences. They discuss the trauma of eating disorders, lack of self-esteem, rape, and abortion; the struggles of growing up with a learning disability or disadvantaged by crushing poverty. One of the essayists acknowledges that “historically feminism has struggled with incorporating perspectives of women (and men) of diverse classes, races, abilities, and experiences” (55). Several writers lament the younger generation of women who are so reluctant to adopt the label, while recognizing their own initial hesitance. But their tone was consistently universal, not trying to elevate any one group over another. Amy Richards states, “We all experience discrimination in different ways, certainly some more severely and less naively than others, but living in a world where anyone is oppressed hinders everyone” (140).
Each essay was thoughtful, intimate, and powerful. They were hilarious, moving, insightful and poignant. Several presented topics in a light I hadn’t before considered or found the perfect words to encapsulate thoughts I hadn’t yet managed to completely formulate. For example, Li Sydney Cornfeld states, “The best way to break a stigma is to out yourself.” That should ring true to any of my LDS friends who, like me, have occasionally found themselves in a conversation with those not of our faith who hold many misconceptions about Mormons. The tone of the conversation shifts as soon as I address the inaccuracies by saying, “Well, I’m a Mormon. We believe in Christ, have dances at our church buildings all the time, and my husband only has one wife.” The stigma of “Mormon” starts to fade at least for that person as they discover that what they’ve “known” about Mormons doesn’t match the reality of the person standing in front of them.
That’s not to say that I agree with everything that was written in this book. But I deeply appreciate that inclusiveness is a recurring theme; we don’t have to agree on every issue to be part of the same community. Anitra Cottledge says, “For me, feminism has always been about choice. It’s about being able to choose what to call yourself, what to wear, what issues to take up, what battles to fight. What kind of feminist – or womanist, or person – would I be if I didn’t at least respect someone’s choice to locate themselves within feminism in a way that feels comfortable for them?” (65).
One thing that struck me consistently was their insistence on embracing the difficulties and contradictions inherent in life and working through them. While life might be simpler or calmer (on the surface) if one chooses not to rock the boat, it takes a certain level of integrity and self-knowledge to fight against societal assumptions that not everyone perceives as being unequal or problematic. And over and over again, these people describe doing just that. “The good thing about telling the truth,” claims Karen Pittelman, “not the problem, as I’d once thought – is that then we have to do something about it” (119). That’s the best definition of integrity I’ve ever read.
For more book reviews, come visit my blog, Build Enough Bookshelves.