feminist

“You are in no way a feminist,” our Canadian friend told me.

Kuya Jonell asked me last night how my driving lessons went. I told him I was having problems with the clutch simply because I couldn’t very well reach it, even if I had pulled the seat closest possible. Simply said, I find myself rather too small to drive a Pajero.

Of course, Kuya Jonell and Darell found it very funny and I have nothing against it. However, Darell reacted a bit further.

“You’re going to have other problems in driving as well, because you’re a girl.”

I don’ know if it was my activist side that burst out but I realized myself talking without thinking, as if offended to what maybe an unintended comment.

“What problems? That I would not be taken seriously as driver? That girls are unusual drivers? That girls are not so aggressive on the street and that if a man damages my car, he would take advantage to put the blame on me simply because I’m a girl?”

“No. That was a joke, a guy joke.”

Well actually, it didn’t matter to me if it was a joke or not but having such a comment irritates me. But of course, I couldn’t be as harsh as I would often be against these comments thinking that this person is helping out our church in the construction of a new building.

“Careful. Feminist.” (referring to myself).

“You are in no way a feminist.”

“I am, although not the radical kind but I am.”

“Feminists are lesbian, and you’re not.”

Wow. What an observation! A Feminist = Lesbian equation is so sweeping generalization.

Whether I truly am a feminist or just in the making, I am not sure. But one thing is for certain. I’ve always hated discriminatory jokes, may it be racial, gender, or physical discrimination against a person. I do not have to take on another gender role for me to realize that there are people who look down on others because of their sexuality. All are equal and should be respected for what they are.

Don’t get me wrong. This friend of mine is not totally prejudiced. I have heard comments from him that are to be very much appreciated. I remember a time when he spent a night helping out a bunch of high school kids of missionaries in the country. He hated the idea that these missionaries (and their kids even) had been staying in the country for more than 10 years and yet knows nothing of the Filipino language, much more the culture. He saw a foreigner buying mangoes that morning. She and vendor couldn’t understand each other. Not that the vendor couldn’t understand English, but the foreigner wanted to buy a single piece of mango, something that may be possible in their country that doesn’t apply here.

He could be socially relevant, but he could be so greatly unfair as well.

“I don’t have to be a lesbian to be at some point a feminist,” were the last thoughts I said before I switched the topic back to car driving.