"Everyone Should be a Feminist"

Following International Women’s Day on Tuesday, feminism has become a hot topic on internet and elsewhere. A statement which I have seen repeated again and again is that “everyone should be a feminist”. I fundamentally agree with this, however, I began to question whether it’s an idea we, as feminists, should really be preaching.

On the one hand, the idea of men being the superior sex is obviously (I hope) medieval. Many people I have spoken to have views along the lines of “I believe men and women are equal but I’m not a feminist”. This is could be seen as paradoxical as the underlying belief of the feminist movement is in fact gender equality. Why all these people, who hold feminist values, refuse to identify as a feminist is a question worth considering here. Is it the fact that feminism sometimes receives bad press? Have people only been exposed to extreme feminist and has this deterred them? Whichever way you look at it, it would appear that some kind of myth surrounding feminism is preventing people connecting with it. I think, therefore, that we have a responsibility to educate people on the real values of the movement. Once people fully understand the theory, can it be claimed that “everyone should be a feminist” ?

An idea that would serve as a ‘yes’ answer to the above question would be the fact that most adults in society are a role model to somebody. Our children, our siblings, our peers, at least one person looks up to us. With this in mind, it could be argued that “everyone should be a feminist” because we have the responsibility to portray fair and equal values to other members of society. Claiming that one is not a feminist carries a whole host of connotations (even if they’re not true) which is not something, at least I think, we should be injecting into society.

It could also be argued it is acceptable to tell people they “should be a feminist” because feminism is a united movement which is helping to create a more equal society. Rather than everybody holding individual gender equality views and largely keeping them to themselves, feminism provides an outlet for these views and puts them on the political and social agenda. It could be said, therefore, that believing in gender equality but not being prepared to say “I am a feminist” is stinting the emergence of an equalitarian society.

However, as is often the case, this is not a black and white issue. Feminism affects so many things and as such, its values can often get muddled, contradictory or hypocritical. For example, for some people, wearing makeup is anti-feminist because it promotes the idea that women are naturally not ‘good enough’. However, for some people, makeup allows women to express and feel good about themselves which is in keeping with feminist values. It is easy to see why people, therefore, may not want to call themselves a feminist because, at a deeper level, it is not always clear what it stands for. As such, it is difficult to say that “everyone should be a feminist” because feminism, in today’s complex society, is applied to more things than simply gender equality.

For me, the most important thing about feminism is that it sets women free. Free from the pressures to look a certain way, behave in a certain way, or take up certain jobs. This freedom must be universal. By telling women they must be a feminist, you are taking away their freedom to choose what they believe. This takes us back to the days when women were not given the vote because it was thought they could not think rationally. It is almost insulting to tell women who actively choose not to identify as a feminist that they should do this.

Although I strongly believe in the feminist cause and in my ideal world, everyone would be a feminist; I just don’t think it’s acceptable to preach this. To tell people (men and women) what they should be and what they ought to think is an anti-feminist and downright outdated concept. For me, the solution to so many people not identifying as feminists is education. Once we have equipped people with facts and knowledge about the movement, it is then up to them how they choose to act on this. We can educate and even persuade, but we certainly cannot dictate. 

5 Things I Have Learned From the First 85 Days at University

Don’t be afraid to say yes…

The word ‘yes’ is a key which opens to door to a world of experiences. I have learnt that it’s good to try things which are offered to you, be it a new sport, an event or a society. You can always rethink later if it’s not for you, but you never know until you try. At the start of September, I would have never imagined that I would be sat writing this reflection as a full fledged member of the salsa society, but I said ‘yes’ to a taster session and now I absolutely love it. University has made me so much more open to new opportunities; I may even conquer my ultimate fear this summer, camping (!!!!!!) at a festival. Who knows, it might convert me into an outdoor living enthusiast.

… but don’t be afraid to say no

When you arrive at university, opportunities are thrown at you like one of those automatic tennis ball machines and it can be very overwhelming. I have learnt that it’s ok to take time out sometimes, we all need a break. So, you don’t have to say ‘yes’ to that big night out if you really don’t fancy it and it’s ok to tell the enthusiastic man handing out ‘Chemistry Society’ leaflets that you’ll pass on that one. Life is about balance, as long as you say yes to some things, it’s healthy to say no to others.

Asking for help does not mean you’re stupid

I have never been someone who likes to admit defeat. I used get stressed about coursework at school because I was afraid asking the teacher for help would confirm the voice in the back of my mind telling me I wasn’t clever. This voice has been a little too present in my brain for a little too long and it was starting to really affect my confidence. Luckily, the tutors at university are so approachable and everyone else asks a lot of questions so I am slowly learning that asking for help doesn’t actually lower your IQ (who knew, eh?).

People are nice

Countless nights post results day were spent on the sofa with my mum, panicking that “everyone one will be SO mean”. I was convinced that everyone would hate me and that I wouldn’t make any friends. As I’m writing this, it seems such an irrational fear but at the time I was seriously worried. Thankfully, I have made some wonderful friends after only a short period of time; some who I’m sure will be my friends for life. I eventually came to the realisation that everyone was in the same boat, in a strange city with no one familiar, and so everybody wanted to make friends. Being mean was going to benefit no-one, we all needed each other.

My parents are heroes

You don’t realise until you move away from home how much your parents do for you. My mum used to cook me delicious, nutritious meals every night and my dad used to tirelessly wash and iron my clothes. These are the obvious things that I knew I was going to miss, but I’ve realised there is a whole lot more. When I’m walking to lectures, I miss being able to sweet talk my dad into giving me a lift to sixth form on cold, wet, winter mornings. When I am feeling stressed, I miss my mum bringing me a cup of tea and helping me to organise my workload. This is starting to sound like an emotional blog about how much I miss home. I don’t get homesick at all, but moving away has made me so grateful for everything my parents did for me while I was living at home. I feel like I will be saying “thank you” every time either of them lifts a finger over the holidays.

So that’s what I’ve learned from my first 85 days at University. It has been an absolute blast and I am so excited for what is to come. It sounds cliché, but I can already feel myself ‘growing as a person’ and I look forward to being able to write another reflection at the end of this year. 

From Comprehensive to Catholic

Up until the end of high school, I thought all non-fee paying schools were relatively 

similar. I knew that religious schools existed, and that they operated somewhat differently to your average state school, but I was not prepared for the huge culture shock I experienced when I started a catholic sixth form. From year 7 to year 11 I attended an OFSTED ‘satisfactory’, borderline ‘rough’ comprehensive school. To study for my a-levels, I thought the local catholic sixth form (attached to a catholic high school) would suit my need for a structured learning environment more than a college, so I happily filled in all the paperwork and a few months later was offered a place. 

The following September I skipped (metaphorically, of course) up the drive of my new sixth form, despite all of my friends opting for the other college, I was optimistic and excited to start my studies. On reflection, I can’t really remember what I was expecting from sixth form, something similar to school but with more praying perhaps. In reality, stepping into my sixth form was like stepping into to a whole new world. Throughout the 2 years, I learned a lot and, even though I hate this cliché, I definitely ‘changed as a person’.

The first thing that hit me as I walked through the corridors on my first day was that nobody hit me. At high school, the corridors were like a rugby scrum, there was pushing and shoving and shouting and swearing; whereas now, everyone walked on the left hand side in a quiet and orderly fashion. It sounds small but I found it very strange, even more so when a year 7 boy held the door open for me rather than slamming it in my face. For me, this is the perfect representation of the discipline and respect for others that is drilled into children at religious schools, something which was neglected at my state school.

Another strange thing I discovered was that pupils actually did the work they were set. I found it incredibly odd as I walked through the sixth form study area to find around 40 pupils all sat in silence completing homework and independent study, with no teacher present to supervise. If we had had this kind of area at high school, it would have been turned into an extension of the canteen, paper would be thrown, pranks would be played and not a single piece of work would have been done. The fact that there were children and young people who actually wanted to learn amazed me and made me realise that, actually, I really wanted to learn too. It changed my mindset from seeing school as somewhere where I was forced to work to somewhere where I was given the opportunity to study and enrich myself.

The way my sixth form worked was that you had to be religious to attend the high school, but anyone could attend the sixth form. As an atheist, I was apprehensive about what the religious pupils would be like. I thought they would be serious, difficult to chat to and I was worried we would have nothing in common. I could not have been more wrong. I met some of my best friends at sixth form, many of whom are deeply religious. I used to think that a religion was something which consumed a person. I saw religious people as ‘Christian’ ‘Jewish’ or ‘Hindu’ etc. and failed to recognised they had other characteristics such as ‘funny’ ‘kind’ or ‘sporty’.  Also, I thought that religious people would not want to be friends with me because I didn’t share their beliefs. Thankfully, these preconceived ideas I had were soon destroyed as I realised that religious people were actually just like me, except they believe in a God/Gods and I don’t- simple! The majority of people were also happy to answer my questions about their faith, I am fascinated by what makes someone religious and if people from religious families truly believe their teachings. I learned so much about religion and culture over the 2 years and it made me a more tolerant, understanding and overall less ignorant person.

My sixth form required pupils in year 12 to complete 50 hours of ‘enrichment’ over the year. Enrichment could be anything from charity work to completing a road safety course to learning a new sport. It struck me that although I was at a very academically high performing school, the headmistress and senior management team obviously cared a lot about pupil’s personal skills as well. They recognised that there was more to education than exam results and this was something I had never considered before. Even our lessons were not completely geared around passing the exam, instead, the teachers tried to give us a broader understanding of the subject. At my comprehensive school, this was never the case and we were simply taught the syllabus and spent countless hours trawling over past exam papers. I learned that school didn’t have to be like the ‘exam factory’ I had experienced and that there was more to education, more to life in fact, than getting qualifications.

I think this is an appropriate point at which to say that I don’t completely disregard my high school. I am so thankful that I went there for my secondary education rather than attending a religious or private school. I was exposed to a wide range of people from different social and economic backgrounds, something that you just don’t get from non-comprehensive schools. I felt like my sixth form was a bit of a bubble, most people were middle class and aspired to go to university. Hardly anyone knew what it was like to struggle financially or suffer real hardship. Also, I noticed that pupils who had attended the catholic high school were not as independent as those who had just come in year 12. I was incredibly taken aback one day when one of my friends said she had never been on a bus! At comprehensive school you learn to look after yourself, stick up for yourself and generally become a bit of a ‘tough cookie’. If you can stand the taunts and teasing of year 9 then I truly believe you can handle 99% of other situations you will encounter later in life.

I truly believe that going to a catholic sixth form rather than college was one of the best decisions I ever made, on both an academic and personal level. It was a drastic change from what I was used to, and having to adapt was also a very worthwhile experience. However, if I was given the choice to go back and complete my secondary education their too, my answer would be a resounding ‘no’. The comprehensive experience is so valuable, even if the educational side of it isn’t that great. I would probably have got better GCSEs at a religious/private high school, but at least I know how to catch a bus.

Some Thoughts On... The Budget

An immoral attack on the poor

I don’t have any kind of political education; my little politics knowledge comes from television, radio and a variety of newspapers. So, as a member of the general public, these are some of my thoughts on the budget.

Maintenance Grants

Currently, students from low income families can claim a maintenance grant of up £3,387, essentially a gift from the government to help cover their living costs. Osborne has declared this “unaffordable” and has proposed plans to scrap it. More than half a million students rely on this grant and so, for me, abolishing it forms part of an apparent systematic attack on the poor. I understand that the economic plan of the government is to cut the deficit by making savings, a plan which I don’t agree with but it is what the electorate voted for and so must be followed. Why though, must these savings be taken the poorest students? Why not reduce the amount of money that students from high income families can borrow? Although this may be paid back, a lot of student debt is not and so contributes to the deficit just like grants do. The government justifies targeting the poor as they claim removing the grants will not deter poorer students from attending university, as numbers actually increased when tuition fees were raised. This may be the case, but I can’t help thinking that the morals behind such an argument are totally abhorrent. Low income students are obviously determined to go to university and just because a lack of grant won’t stop them going, it doesn’t mean their experience won’t be a lot more difficult. Meanwhile, students from more wealthy backgrounds are unaffected by the budget, their student lifestyle being paid for by a healthy maintenance loan from the government and a grant from the bank of mum and dad.

                                                                                               

Inheritance Tax

The inheritance tax reform means that by 2020 parents will be able to leave a property worth up to £1 million to their children- without the children having to pay inheritance tax. As I understand it, each parent is allowed to leave up to £500,000 in property tax free (the allowance is currently £325,000) and if one dies first, their allowance is transferred to their spouse. In my opinion, this is another policy which exposes the Conservatives’ obsession with the rich; the IFS has said the reform would “affect a relatively small number of high-income individuals”. If we lived in a prosperous, deficit free, poverty free economy I would not have a problem with this policy. But we do not. While Osborne is giving this tax cut to millionaires, he is cutting £12 billion from the welfare budget and enforcing a policy of ‘austerity’. It appears that this austerity only applies to the poorest in society, perhaps he should rename it ‘poorsterity?’. Cutting taxes while cutting welfare is, for me, completely and utterly immoral.

The Living Wage

This is the feature of the budget which I understand the least about and I think that is the point. The ‘living wage’ is a headline grabber for Osborne and the ins and outs are so complicated for the general public, that many will not understand that this is a con trick (I didn’t until I researched it further). The new national living wage will start at £7.20pa from April 2016 and rise to £9pa by 2020. Great? I thought so, until I found out the tax credit cuts that are going hand in hand with this policy. According to many journalists, by the time you take into account tax credit cuts and inflation, £9pa by 2020 will still not be a decent ‘living wage’. The poor have been conned and all for the sake of a good headline. What’s more, the so called ‘living wage’ only applies to those over 25; a policy which I think comes from the ‘Oxbridge’ background of those in politics. I think that because most politicians come from wealthy families, they believe that all parents will be able to somewhat support their children up until the age of 25, for example, by lending them a deposit for a property. Therefore, this fuels the Conservatives’ belief that those under 25 do not need as higher wages as those above this threshold. This is simply not the case. With other children to support, and only being on minimum wage themselves, many parents cannot afford to support their children past 18, let alone 25. I believe it is this mindset which has fuelled the maintenance grant cut, the government assume that all parents will be able to subsidise their children. The ‘living wage’ insults the intelligence of the general public and is quite simply an insult to those who will receive it.

The first Conservative budget since 1996 was damaging and discriminatory and the sad thing is that no one seems surprised.