Name Calling and Feminism

Many years ago in junior high, I had a moment with a friend. We both liked the same boy, and we both got to make out with him on the same night—together. The next day as I walked into school, walking on air from the dreamy night before, some of our shared friends started to shame me and call me names. You know, all those fun names that are available just for shaming women: Slut, Bitch, Whore, etc.

I wanted to die. I begged my mom to let me stay home from school until it all blew over.

She sat me down on the edge of her waterbed and sternly told me in no uncertain terms that those names were created by men to keep us down, and that I was to never use those words against another woman.

Noted.

Today, as I was scrolling through my IG feed I landed on a Feminist account that I usually love. The meme today was about shifting the label of TERF to FART, and I could not stop myself from recounting this story. For one, have you yet noticed that there are no names for men who hold these beliefs, the idea that trans women are not women? They are just called Men. They might also be called assholes, but wow, that doesn’t quite hold the same weight does it? Perhaps Bro is supposed to be an insult of its equal? I doubt, however, that there is the same internalized stigma.

When I was studying with Swami Rahasya, I was introduced to the term The Women’s Union. It was a phrase giving name to the dark side of Sisterhood. The Women’s Union is a concept that encompasses all the ways women police each other, like saying that she needs to wear more/less make-up, she needs to lower her hemline, she needs to button it up, she needs to be nicer, she needs to be less flirtatious, she shouldn’t drink in that bar, or hang out with those folks, or look that way, or do that thing. She should enjoy sex more, she should enjoy sex less. She should only do that with ONE man. She was asking for it.

I caught myself doing this to another woman a couple summers ago when I had been invited to a fancy picnic and the woman pouring drinks behind the bar was about 2.5 sheets to the wind. She had also had a variety of plastic surgeries and fillers. I came back to my group and started attacking her for those things, all in the name of comedy, of course.

Not so long later, I realized what I had done. This woman was nothing but nice to me. She poured me a great drink for free. She gave me kisses and kudos. She welcomed me to the camp and made me feel like I belonged. And I repaid that kindness by talking shit about her choices with her own body—choices that did not, and do not, affect me in any way.

It was a kinesthetic learning moment.

Feel however you want about these trans issues(which likely do not affect any of us in any notable way, certainly not in ways that would be harmful, unless we are the trans individual), but shaming women who hold opposing views does nothing to bring them to our side. It does not educate them on the folly of their ways, and it also keeps us from hearing their true concerns—and potentially addressing them. It also does nothing to further our collective cause. We need each other. Right now, we need each other possibly more than ever in our lifetimes. There is a very real threat to women’s rights in this nation(look up the SAVE Act and how it would impact millions of women’s ability to vote), and the in-fighting keeps us from effectively organizing. It keeps us distracted and ultimately silenced so that we offer a weakened opposition to the shit coming down the pike. It is also exactly what turns folks off from grokking why trans rights matter in the stand for women’s rights.

If you are truly an inclusive feminist, you might want to consider that perpetuating the name calling works toward the Patriarchy’s advantage by keeping us separated and harming each other.

This article was originally published on Substack. You can read the original here.