If you live in the Pacific Northwest, you’re well aware that we are on day two of a significant winter weather event. We received the most snowfall in the area (for February) since 1990. Overnight temperatures in the high 20’s have meant icy and treacherous driving in the mornings, and I am working from home today, like most my colleagues – staying alive.
It’s times like these, when the world quiets down and there’s nowhere to go, nature’s spires and fronds blanketed in silent, frosty white, that I like to reflect on the horrors of third and fourth-wave feminism. Just kidding – I reflect on feminism all the time. The weather has nothing to do with it, although I would liken the overall posture of modern feminism to an icy winter’s morn, and the gender war landscape to an inch-thick sheen of ice on a crowded city street. Travel at your own risk.
These are shallow observations. I have quite a few books to read and people to talk to before I expound on modern feminism and the gender wars. That day is coming. I can’t avoid the ice forever.
Feminism is threaded through my religious upbringing and de-conversion story. I am still grappling with exactly how to interpret and tell it.I will say this: I have no problem with real gender equality, and I don’t know anyone who does. There is something else going on these days.
Just some thoughts, as I wait for the end of Snowmageddon 2017.