When I was in middle-school, I discovered feminism. Always a voracious reader, I devoured every book on it that I could find — eagerly eating the words of feminists like Germaine Greer, Betty Friedan, and Naomi Wolf. When I was done with books, I turned my attention to the interwebs, where communities of social justice warriors congregate.I was exposed to feminism piecemeal; I never had a “click” moment. My grandmother had a lot of disdain for “women’s libbers" because she thought they were taking away men’s jobs. To her and her sisters who waited tables or worked in factories, staying home to raise kids seemed like a luxury, so I don’t blame her. I read Blacklash and The Beauty Myth in high school, and later Greer and Friedan, but I also read women critical of feminism like Camille Paglia, Christina Hoff Sommers, and Katie Roiphe. I thought they were part of the same system, not the enemy. I never took a woman’s studies class, for which I’m thankful now. Either way, I love when posts like this one pop up in my newsreader.
For me, feminism was an enticing religion. Raised in a home devoid of faith, I eagerly accepted its philosophy as my ticket to salvation.Any ideology can function as religion when you grant it enough power.
Social justice theory also taught me about microaggressions. Rarely did I go a day without interpreting what someone said as such, as a personal affront to myself or one of the 7 marginalized identities that feminist social-justice Tumblr gifted me.I snorted a little at this.
The advent of conservative speakers being de-platformed or harassed by screaming social justice warriors is a logical consequence of an ideology that equates conservative opinions with physical violence.Except that it’s not only conservative speakers being de-platformed. (And even if it was, I would still think that’s wrong.) The greatest vitriol has been leveled against other liberals who don’t pass ideological purity tests.
(Reblogged from, ironically, Tumblr)