How I became a feminist
In my early 20s I never saw the need to be a feminist, as I never experienced inequality. I was wrong, but I didn’t realise. I’m a millennial in a First World country who went to school where I played the same sports as boys, attended the same subjects as boys and where some of my best friends were boys.
When I graduated from New Plymouth’s only co-ed school, Spotswood College circa 2004, there was no question in my mind that I might be hindered from celebrating parallel accolades as my guy friends.
I actually thought I had an advantage over them. In all honesty, I learned at a young age how to gain sympathy by turning on the tears. I learned how to be coy to get out of sports day if I didn’t feel like running around and getting all sweaty. A sweet smile and soft voice could achieve a lot.
As a mother of boys I’ve since learned how young males can just as easily wrap women around their little finger with an act of cuteness. Hand-picked flowers, a cheeky joke or a flash of a smile can achieve a lot.
Some people are easily charmed, others will see straight through your attempt to manipulate and leave you with no choice but to cough up the goods, the school or work assignment, as it were.
At times it helps if people underestimate you, giving you the element of surprise. At other times, you can be overlooked.
‘‘You have a nice smile’’ a former employer once told me. He was hoping it would advantage me in my role as police reporter. The reporter before me won favour on her first assignment by baking everyone muffins. Another colleague was in vogue for her ‘girl-next-door charm’.
Growing up as the oldest of four girls and one boy, I was repeatedly told to ‘‘keep a low profile’’, to fly under the radar, to go about my business without making a fuss and without standing out.
But those traits did me little good in an industry that fixes its attention on the loudest in the newsroom.
I had to ‘Lean In’ according to Facebook’s Sheryl Sandberg, and have a w(h)ine with female colleagues before I could figure out how to do what comes naturally to most men. Back myself.
We have heard it all before; men tend to aim high and oversell themselves with the belief that they will ace that promotion, seeing any knockback as a challenge.
Women tend to be more mindful of their shortcomings and will be more accepting of what they are given, generally speaking.
I watched a women’s suffrage-themed high school speech competition recently and was awed by the level of research and depth of knowledge that these intelligent young women displayed, in speaking on global topics of fairness and equality.
I felt cynical, sad and worldly wise all at once as I wondered what would happen to these bright, independent girls once they entered the workforce.
We have come a long way from hiding coloured women in a separate room while they problemsolve man’s way onto the moon, but we have not arrived at true equality yet.
Latest figures from Statistics NZ show the gender pay gap is at 9.2 per cent, the lowest in six years.
The pay gap is calculated by comparing each gender’s salaries from the same or like industries.
As usual, nurturing roles are not financially valued as much as technical ones. I would argue nurses and teachers are the building blocks of a successful society.
It was interesting to listen to the uproar when PM Jacinda Ardern was asked whether she was planning on getting pregnant while she was on the campaign trail. I grinned when news broke of her pregnancy.
Seeing pictures of Jacinda holding baby Neve at the meeting of the United Nations General Assembly, and of her donning a korowai with a noticeable baby bump while meeting the Queen, were visions of true equality. Girls really can do anything.
Paid maternity leave for six months and provisions for flexible working arrangements are making it far easier for mothers to maintain a hand in their careers and for fathers to be more hands-on at home, than it was for previous generations. And that is so encouraging.
Life may have been simpler in the days when women were more likely to raise the family at home. It still works best for a lot of people. It’s just that I’m all for women being given a choice.
Fulltime parenthood is hard. As I imagine, fulltime work is hard when you have young children. I can speak from my time as a fulltime parent. It’s a wonderful, rewarding and busy season. It’s a stretching and trying season. It’s unpaid and in that sense, it can feel underappreciated.
I don’t know what we can do about that, other than follow Norwegian policy again and adopt a family benefit for all, regardless of income, paid for out of high taxes. It’s the principle that I like, a tangible reward that puts value on raising children.
In all honesty, I learned at a young age how to gain sympathy by turning on the tears.