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“Self portrait” by Halifax-based artist Rebecca Roher is part of  Roher’s “Forty Weeks” series, which portrays an individual female narrative surrounding reproductive and relationship issues. The work consists of watercolour drawings and oil paintings that deal with the emotional and physical memories of her pregnancy, abortion and the aftermath that followed. Just as a pregnancy lasts forty weeks, her drawings look back on her aborted pregnancy over forty weeks, from conception to the date she would have given birth. With this project, she hopes to create a safe space where women can share their own narratives about reproductive issues and feel supported. Visit rebeccaroherart.blogspot.com to see the full series.
“Self portrait” by Halifax-based artist Rebecca Roher is part of Roher’s “Forty Weeks” series, which portrays an individual female narrative surrounding reproductive and relationship issues. Visit rebeccaroherart.blogspot.com for more information and to see the full series.
By Jane Kirby
Briarpatch Magazine
September/October 2010

February 2009, Saint Mary’s University, Halifax. A student spots a poster for a presentation titled “Echoes of the Holocaust” by Jose Ruba of the Canadian Centre for Bio-Ethical Reform. This presentation, she learns after further investigation, has nothing to do with remembering the atrocities committed against Jews. Instead, it uses graphic imagery to equate abortion with genocide, implicitly comparing women who have abortions to Nazis.

Deeply offended by the comparison, this student forwards the announcement of the presentation to friends, and news quickly spreads through pro-choice networks. The university administration is barraged with phone calls and emails calling for the event to be shut down on the grounds that it amounts to harassment and is offensive to women, especially those who have had abortions. Read the rest of this entry »

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By Dave Oswald Mitchell
Briarpatch Magazine
March/April 2010

“At every women’s gathering the divisions of race, class, nationality and ethnicity erupt, tearing the unity that brings women together. . . . We can pretend that differences do not exist, or we can explore them, and in the process reformulate feminism itself. The latter is more difficult and painful, but indispensable, if sisterhood is to become more than a slogan.”

Asoka Bandarage, “Toward International Feminism,” 1994

“[A] vision of global feminism should be one which engages women at all levels of society in all aspects of their lives, encouraging productive diversity rather than homogeneity, while proposing a pro-active redistribution of power, rather than reactive critique of its current allotment.”

Renee Martyna, “Whiter Global Feminism?,” E-merge 2000

This issue of Briarpatch is about opening our activism to new voices and new perspectives. As Naomi Wolf recently observed, “our (Western) moment of feminist leadership is over now, for good reasons. . . . [T]he leadership role is shifting to women in the developing world.”

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Illustration by Kim Sokol

Illustration by Kim Sokol

By Erum Hasan
Briarpatch Magazine
March/April 2010

I was 14 years old, riding a Parisian metro on a Friday evening, no doubt bound for some teenage mischief. The peace of my journey was interrupted when a woman wearing a burqa entered the compartment, accompanied by her husband and young son. The three of them, visibly tourists, looked at the metro maps in clear view of everyone else in the car.

This is a scene that occurs many times a day in Paris: tourist families mapping out their routes in the web of the metro underworld. But this family was different; the protagonists were atypical. I remember my horror at the whisperings, the looks, the nudges, and even some finger pointing at the woman in the burqa. A woman sitting across from me sighed exasperatedly and mumbled something about “these Arabs” and how they treat their women.

I was embarrassed and angry at this family for having entered this very public realm of which I was a part. I didn’t want my co-commuters to be judging all Muslim women relative to this one with her covered face. It was challenging enough to be a Muslim teen in Paris without having to take on this iconic image of the burqa-clad woman that had disturbed the cultural uniformity on that metro car. Feeling resentment for her and the response she was eliciting, I looked away, hoping she would disappear quickly.

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Over 2,000 statues fill the walls of Vientiane’s Wat Si Saket, the Laos capital’s oldest temple (built in 1818). (Photo: Nikko Snyder)

By Gita Tewari
Briarpatch Magazine
March/April 2010

It’s the last day of the week-long Living Buddhism class I’ve been attending at Wat Songdhamma Kalayani, an all-female temple in Nakhon Pathom, Thailand. After our morning chants and prayers, we have set off on an alms round with nuns and novitiates from the temple. We make our way from the temple grounds into the surrounding community, where groups of people are waiting along the street and in front of their homes to donate food and other supplies to the nuns.

We walk quietly, in single file. It is still early in the morning and the air doesn’t have the oppressive humidity to which I have grown accustomed. We see male monks in their saffron robes down the street from us, also making their daily alms rounds.

When a man kneels reverentially in front of the young female nun leading the prayers, I finally understand the religious clergy’s resistance to ordination of Bhikkhunis (the highest order of Buddhist nuns) in Thailand. In a country where even the King defers to monks, the implications of allowing women to inhabit the same spiritual plane as men would have a profound effect on a country that is still bound by ancient traditions.

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Illustration by Kim Sokol

Illustration by Kim Sokol

By Penelope Hutchison
Briarpatch Magazine
January/February 2010

We once called ourselves Radical Obnoxious Fucking Feminists. When we meet again 20 years later, I discover that both f-words make us wince. What happened?

The day after the reunion, the subject line of Kelly’s email reads: “Did you hear?” On August 4, 2009, the same night as four university girlfriends and I had gathered for a 20-year reunion, a man walked into a gym in Bridgeville, Pennsylvania, and opened fire. In response to what his online diary described as years of rejection by women and his inability to get a girlfriend, George Sodini shot three women, injured nine others – all unknown to him – and then killed himself.

The coincidence is surreal. My undergraduate girlfriends and I had planned the reunion as a memorial of sorts to mark the 20th anniversary of the Montreal Massacre. On December 6, 1989, 14 female engineering students were shot to death by a man who blamed women – feminists in particular – for ruining his life. The event shocked and scared us because we saw just how far the backlash against women could go.

I swiftly type my reply to Kelly’s email:

“The shooting and killing of those women on the same night as our reunion is unbelievable. Clearly misogyny is still alive and kicking. Getting together with you all made me realize that perhaps we still can make change. Instead of enlisting as junior members of the raging grannies, maybe we can morph into some fabulous forty-something gang? Something to ponder.”

Not a single one of my former fellow activists responds to my email. My disappointment turns to depression. How is it that as 40-something professionals, we don’t feel we have the same power and voice and ability to make change that we once believed feminism offered us? What has happened to us? To the world around us?

In the wake of this latest killing, we won’t be gathering in the Queen’s University Women’s Centre to plan a candlelight vigil. Julie won’t be making a sign that reads “Misogyny kills.” Nothing but a brief flurry of emails.

It is not that my girlfriends don’t want to speak out about violence against women anymore. It is, I tell myself, that in our supposedly post-feminist age, such outbursts from savvy professional women seem uncouth and unreasonable. Now that women are encouraged to pursue an education, a career, and be sexually independent, many see feminism as a thing of the past. To ease our way in the world, women like me have given up any public claims to feminism, or have at least tucked it away in an unobtrusive corner of our beings so as not to offend.

We have become lapsed feminists.

The rise of ROFF

Twenty years ago, my girlfriends and I, undergraduates all, formed ROFF – Radical Obnoxious Fucking Feminists. We gained notoriety in the media for our political protests. A Globe and Mail reporter described us in November 1989 as a “shadowy group” that shook “the serenity of Queen’s, a campus renowned as a hotbed of social rest.”

On Valentine’s Day we planted stop signs around campus to mark the places where, it was rumoured, women had been sexually assaulted. During Orientation Week, we whitewashed the “Golden Tit,” the speed bump engineering students decorate each year with a pink nipple, and spray painted “ROFF” over top in purple letters. We organized a 24-hour sit-in in the university principal’s office with two dozen other women. The sit-in was a response to the administration’s failure to discipline a group of first-year male students living in residence who had plastered their dorm windows with slogans like “No Means Kick Her In The Teeth,” “No Means Tie Me Up” and “No Means Harder.” The signs were the men’s response to a “No Means No” anti-date rape awareness campaign on campus.

My ROFF girlfriends and I had come to Queen’s in the late 1980s believing the battle of the sexes was over. Instead, we faced signs on student ghetto houses with messages like “Bring Your Virgins Here,” “Show Your Tits” and “Why Beer is Better than Women: Beer Doesn’t Run to Tell the Police When you Rape It.” We met one another in classes on feminist jurisprudence, women in politics, literature and philosophy, and made the Queen’s Women’s Centre our clubhouse.

We were empowered by the possibil­ities feminism offered to challenge society’s power structures. We devoured the texts of writers like bell hooks, Catharine MacKinnon and Carol Gilligan, and the lectures of our young, untenured female professors who sparked discussion about the exploitation of women in a male-dominated culture.

The gender politics at Queen’s and other campuses across Canada certainly reinforced this perspective. We read about panty raids at Wilfred Laurier University where male students splashed ketchup on women’s underwear and hung them out for display. Blindfolded and bikini-clad mannequins were paraded through Carleton University’s campus. We saw the world anew, and it seemed a threatening place, full of hatred towards all things feminine. In feminism we saw hope; a way to make the world a safer place for women.

ROFF reunited

The release of the film Polytechnique, a dramatization of the Montreal Massacre, in early 2009 inspired me to track down my ROFF girlfriends and host a reunion. I remember how devastated we were by the massacre, how it felt like the culmination of everything my ROFF girlfriends and I were fighting against at Queen’s. After reading a review of the film in the Globe and Mail, I decided to re-establish contact with my girlfriends and engage in some collective soul-searching about our university activism. I was curious to hear about the paths their lives and their feminism had taken.

As Kim, Kelly and I gather around Kim’s living room table, noshing on low-fat, low-carb crudités, white wine and Diet Coke, Jen and Julie join in the reunion by teleconference from British Columbia and Nova Scotia respectively. Once we are past the niceties, the conversation turns to our feminist activism as undergraduates.

We laud ourselves for our political protests and remind ourselves how the media attention we got for the sit-in sparked a national debate about sexism on campuses. Toronto Star columnist Michele Landsberg wrote at the time that “women from all over Ontario have written me letters of blazing indignation about the sexist hazing they receive at universities in this province. Some of the language they endured – language on banners and T-shirts – would make you faint with shock.” We talk about how our actions helped raise the issue of systemic discrimination against women in universities, and how that discussion spilled out into the workplace and onto the streets until it became a matter of public debate.

Despite the pride evident in my ROFF girlfriends’ voices, not a single one of us identifies professionally as a feminist today. “I don’t say I’m a feminist, but talk more about social justice issues. They are much broader than gender politics and that language,” says Jen, director of a network of HIV/AIDS organizations in B.C. After a brief stint articling at a corporate law firm in Vancouver left her miserable, she took on advocacy work in the predominantly gay HIV/AIDS community in the mid 1990s. There she used her legal expertise to help those with HIV/AIDS access Canada Pension Plan and B.C. benefits.

For Jen and many other women today, the discourse of gender politics is a thing of the past, its legitimacy giving way to other issues – social justice, the environment, antiglobalization, etc. Julie, now general manager of a non-profit arts organization in Nova Scotia, was ROFF’s leading agitator. She has continued to be a vocal proponent for change, working for a London, Ontario, homeless coalition and eventually running for the NDP in the riding of London North Centre in the 1990s. Now living in a hamlet near the Bay of Fundy, she describes her current political activism as more locally focused. Managing a theatre company, running artist retreats and art camps for kids where discussion centres on issues like the environment and mental health, she says she’s “gone from making bigger changes and contributions to smaller local things. I feel like I have more personal impact this way.”

As we aged, we began to choose more manageable goals, but the playing field also shifted. At the same time as we were launching our careers, falling in and out of relationships, acquiring mortgages and having children, society was rebranding feminism as irrelevant. Feminist scholar Angela McRobbie says this is not a straightforward right-wing backlash against feminism. Instead, feminism has been incorporated into this new “post-feminist” landscape through media depictions of independent, sex­ually liberated women like Bridget Jones and Sex and the City’s Carrie Bradshaw. These images of strong, educated and sexually independent women (who also happen to be white and middle-class) give the message that equality between the sexes has been achieved, and suddenly feminism is passé.

It is not that the feminist demands for equality have been met, however. It is that in this new social and cultural landscape, the language of feminism has been delegitimized. What happened for women like my ROFF girlfriends and me is that in one way or another, we have all had to make the bargain so many ­middle-class women come to make to find success in our personal and professional lives. The bargain is this: women can be powerful as long as they give up their claims to feminism and the notion that women are unequal and marginalized in society.

‘Post-feminist’ malaise

Kim, a single mother with a high-status job with the government of Alberta, outwardly personifies the changes feminism has undergone in the intervening years. She has transformed from a curvaceous, bohemian-dressed, unruly-haired brunette to a thin, blonde Gabrielle Reece look-alike in tailored suit and heels.

Bunking at her house for the reunion, I see how she organizes her life to meet all the demands on her time. Up at 5:30 a.m. to work out on the elliptical machine in her basement, she’s showered, dressed and feeding her boys by 7:00 a.m., shuttling them off to school to clock in at the office by 8 a.m. A full day at work is followed by a busy evening of attending to her kids’ after-school activities, meals, homework and bedtime. Her attention then turns back to the briefcase of work she’s brought home before her head hits the pillow at 11 p.m.

It is a rigid schedule but one that is reinforced through women’s magazines and TV talk shows that promote the message that working women’s demanding timetables show how competent we are because we can, and do, “do it all.”

Kelly and I have similar schedules to Kim’s. We’re both at the gym four or five times a week, working out with personal trainers to fit the thin, tailored professional woman mould. Kelly, the mom of twin boys conceived through donor insemination, manages a busy family law practice where as a legal expert to the federal government on assisted reproduction, surrogacy and ovum/sperm donor agreements, her services are in demand.

As a self-employed writer, I have the luxury of working in my home office but my day is still rigidly structured. Bouts of writing interspersed between meetings with clients, meal preparation, car-pooling my son between school and after-school activities, and trying to care long-distance for my aging parents.

By adopting these roles, Kim, Kelly and I have been able to achieve success in the still predominantly male workplace. The price we have paid for such success has been to have to distance ourselves from our earlier feminist identities, or at least from contemporary culture’s view of feminism as a juvenile, extreme dogma typically associated with hatred towards men. It is not that we believe that equality between the sexes has been achieved; it is that living the day-to-day practice of feminism in our professional and personal lives is much harder than we anticipated as young women. Feminism is a long historical movement; as individual women striving to find fulfillment in our personal and professional lives, it is hard to live that struggle on a daily basis in the face of a culture that tells you feminism is a thing of the past.

“In my circle of friends, I wouldn’t say I’m a feminist but wouldn’t say I’m not. I talk about broader social justice issues. Despite feminism’s efforts to be more inclusive of other issues, it’s not,” says Kelly.

As we recount the trajectories of our various career paths, the joys and challenges of raising boys (Kim, Kelly and I all bore sons) and the ups and downs of our sexual relationships with men and women, we recognize the irony of our situation. Feminism has played a significant role in making our professional, ideological and identity choices possible. As a successful lawyer active in Toronto’s gay and lesbian community, Kelly can partially credit the gains made by the feminist movement. Yet, like the rest of my ROFF girlfriends, she has come to distance herself from feminist rhetoric in order to succeed in the legal profession.

While my ROFF girlfriends no longer identify as feminists, they readily acknowledge the ample evidence that exists showing how women have not overcome the problems feminism sought to solve. “I firmly believe that as much as women think they are sexually liberated now and sexual equals to men, it’s crap. At work, if a man sleeps around, he’s unremarked; if a woman does, she’s labelled the office bicycle. That has not changed one iota,” says Kim.

According to Statistics Canada, women are over six times as likely as men to be victims of sexual assault, the majority perpetrated by someone they know. Women working full-time still earn 29 per cent less than men employed full-time; the gap between male and female earnings has not changed significantly in the past decade. Women are still the primary family caregivers, far more likely than men to have to take time from their jobs because of personal or family responsibilities.

Recognizing the imbalances of power women still face, my ROFF girlfriends and I reflect on how important women’s studies courses were for us as young university women, offering us a critical lens and analysis about the place of women in the world. But today, young women are losing those avenues. The recent closure of the women’s studies program at the University of Guelph, the under-resourcing of women’s studies in general within Canada and the complete disappearance of women’s studies as an undergraduate degree in the United Kingdom highlight how the discipline is increasingly seen as a soft subject, lacking academic rigour and based on dated politics.

Not so radical

As the wine bottle empties and our reunion winds to an end, the discussion turns to our love lives: new relationships bubbling up for Kim and Julie, Jen making peace with being newly single, Kelly and I in long-standing relationships. Perhaps we are no different from Carrie Bradshaw: strong, independent, professionally successful, yet still, in the end, looking for life’s fulfillment through our relationships.

It is evident that the politics and passion for change that first brought us together 20 years ago are gone. We once felt so powerful in our efforts to make the world a better place. Now, looking back, I’m disappointed in myself, and to some extent in my ROFF girlfriends, for not holding on to our feminist principles as we aged; for not fighting against the inequality we met in our workplaces and in our personal relationships; for what many might call “selling out.” I don’t think we’ve necessarily sold out; there is just so much working against us in this struggle for broader equality.

As the fall deepened and the 20th anniversary of the Montreal Massacre drew near, I managed to put aside some of my sadness about the reunion and my ROFF girlfriends’ loss of faith in feminism as a tool for change. I know now it wasn’t that we were naive or too radical to realize that the feminist project was some impossible dream. Rather, it was that we weren’t radical enough to stop the backlash that has sidelined feminism as a force for change – that keeping feminism meaningful for younger generations of women has proven a harder task than we ever imagined.

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When people are generally required to check one of two boxes - male or female - those whose gender identity falls outside the boxes are rendered invisible. (Illustration: Elisha Lim)

When people are generally required to check one of two boxes - male or female - those whose gender identity falls outside the boxes are rendered invisible. (Illustration: Elisha Lim)

By Mandy Van Deven
Briarpatch Magazine
January/February 2010

The first step toward addressing an issue is to make it visible. An alcoholic will fail to get sober until he or she admits to having a problem. Slapping around one’s wife was not a punishable offence until it became socially and legally recognized as domestic violence. Visibility is gained through definition, and with visibility comes the power to create social change.

Transgender and gender nonconforming people are just beginning to shed the cloak of invisibility that has shrouded their participation in social and political life. The success of productions featuring middle-class transgender people, like the film Transamerica and the television show The L Word, is opening the door to public conversations that had previously been relegated to academic departments of women’s and queer studies. These popular portrayals are not always politically correct, but they do help to foster the development of an active and visible transgender citizenry working for public recognition of equal rights. Unfortunately, however, transgender visibility seems to be stalled along class lines, a problematic development that advances the rights of a privileged few at the expense of community-oriented movement building.

Similar to queer activism, transgender rights organizing appears to be gaining ground in major metropolitan areas including Washington, D.C., and Toronto. Legal victories for public bathroom access in New York City and anti-discrimination laws in Maine, as well as the election of a transgender mayor in Silverton, Oregon, are certainly cause for celebration. However, the focus on battles that require class privilege means that other battles that would make a significant impact on the majority of poor transgender people have scarcely begun. Would-be transgender activists must often favour their own material conditions above collective advocacy in order to simply survive – a position working-class feminists and feminists of colour have been arguing for decades regarding their place in the movement for women’s liberation. Given this reality, organizing around transgender issues should be viewed through an economic lens in addition to one of gender.

Transgender and gender nonconforming people in the U.S. list their three most important and immediate needs as housing, employment and health care. This is no different from the main preoccupations of low-income people generally, which is not a coincidence as a great number of transgender people live in poverty. (In the United States, a transgender person is twice as likely to live below the poverty line.)

A disproportionate number of transgender people are relegated to low-paying jobs, denied work, or fired for reasons directly related to their gender identity. More than two-thirds report experiencing verbal and physical harassment on the job. Since there are few legal protections against such discrimination, transgender folks have little recourse to address mistreatment on the job, and employers consistently fail to protect transgender workers; in fact, many times they contribute to the abuse. All of these factors contribute to the disproportionate numbers of transgender people experiencing chronic unemployment.

Transgender people who apply for public assistance face difficulties in obtaining the benefits they both need and are entitled to, particularly when they lack access to appropriate identification documents. Those who do receive benefits may do so in a program that has a minimum work requirement in an environment that proves to be dangerous for transgender people, creating a difficult choice between losing benefits and maintaining one’s personal safety. Given their limited employment options, many transgender people become involved in the illegal activities of the street economy – sex work, theft, selling drugs – and so may wind up entangled in the legal system, thus further marginalizing them.

Access to affordable housing is also a problem. Housing refusal is common, leaving many people to live in homeless shelters or on the street. Shelters, which tend to be sex-segregated, bring another unique brand of difficulty, particularly when transgender individuals are not allowed to bunk with members of their self-identified sex or given access to shower and bathroom facilities that suit their needs. Shelters can be unsafe and harassment from other residents and staff is common. Transgender people are frequently turned away from shelters (some even have policies barring their entry) or are thrown out when the staff finds out they are transgender.

Although class and gender intersect deeply and complexly for transgender folks, very little research has been done into the discrimination they face. Figures that are typically calculated by means of the census, public assistance intake forms or social service agencies are lost because transgender identity is not tracked. When people are required to check one of two boxes – male or female – those whose gender identity falls outside the boxes are rendered invisible. The same is true for laws that do not specify protections if a person’s transgender status makes them a target for a crime, such as workplace discrimination or hate violence.

This lack of data contributes to further barriers, as non-profit organ­izations that have trans-specific initiatives face an enormous challenge in obtaining funding. “Getting government funders to understand the risk and vulnerability that transgender people are at to be homeless and getting grants that apply to this work is the biggest challenge we face,” says Yasmeen Persad, the transgender program coordinator at Supporting Our Youth (SOY) in Toronto. A lack of finances is not simply a reality for transgender and gender nonconforming individuals; it is also a reality for the organizations that assist those individuals.

No one decides to do social justice work because they think it will be easy, but some areas are more challenging than others. Low-income transgender people are highly vulnerable to social isolation, abuse and violence – factors that make becoming an advocate or activist extremely difficult. According to Lynn E. Walker, the program director of the Transgender Transitional Housing Program at Housing Works in New York City, “One of the greatest challenges for our clients derives from the reluctance of trans and gender nonconforming people to advocate for themselves. Many clients have experienced long years of disempowerment and homelessness, sometimes complicated by physical and mental illness, and unfortunate encounters with the criminal justice system. Consequently, they tend to prefer to avoid advocacy events where they may encounter institutional and governmental authority, which for them are symbols of ignorance and instruments of oppression.”

The topics that get the most attention from transgender advocates and activists, therefore, are often those of primary interest to middle- and upper-class transgender folks. This is particularly the case in the U.S., where health care disparities are so pronounced: advocating for insurance companies to cover sex reassignment surgery will no doubt benefit transgender people with enough class privilege to actually have health insurance, but what about the need for basic medical care that low-income transgender people are unable to afford?

Organizing to provide free, comprehensive health care services for transgender people would prove to be a much more inclusive and effective organizing strategy. These services could include the provision of basic medical care and medications, including hormones and antidepressants; psychi­atric and psychosocial services like individual and group counselling; and HIV prevention and treatment as well as substance abuse treatment facilities for the disproportionate number of transgender folks who are afflicted with these ailments. A breakthrough in health care provision would represent a momentous step forward for the rights and well-being of transgender people, and would foster the conditions for more activists to step forward.

The Transgender Transitional Housing Program at Housing Works in New York exemplifies the kind of work organizations could be doing to address low-income transgender people’s needs. Tackling all three of transgender people’s most pressing needs, Housing Works provides “one-bedroom furnished apartments for gender non-conforming people and people of trans experience living with HIV/AIDS for up to twenty-four months. Along with appropriate medical, dental, and mental health care, [they] assist them in finding affordable permanent housing, and for those who are interested, the agency provides legal and administrative support as well as vocational training to enable them to obtain satisfactory employment.” Housing Works takes a holistic approach and works for transgender rights where it can make the broadest impact.

Increasing the visibility of low-income transgender people is a step in the right direction but it is not enough to make a sustained impact on their most pressing needs. For that, activism is needed.

Creative solutions can be implemented to solve the problems that are inherent in the current systems that serve low-income people. Transgender-only housing units or floors in existing facilities can be established with private, lockable restroom facilities and staff who are trained in transgender sensitivity. Exclusions of transition-related and gender-specific health care can be removed from the policies of medical facilities and health insurance companies. Governments can invest in transgender-specific workforce development and public assistance programs. Laws and policies that prohibit employment discrimination and workplace harassment can be amended to include transgender and gender non-conforming people. Although transgender organizing is newly emerging, the movement need not make the same mistakes as its well-meaning predecessors by ignoring the class-based needs of the majority of its members.

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Lin Shiu: “I will work as long as I can work.” (Photo: Jillian Kestler-D'Amours)

Lin Shiu: “I will work as long as I can work.” (Photo: Jillian Kestler-D'Amours)

By Jillian Kestler-D’Amours
Briarpatch Magazine
November/December 2009

The Hong Kong government has promised to look into introducing a statutory minimum wage, but so far, no concrete implementation plans have been made.

Lin Shiu, 65, walks into the small Hong Kong Women Workers’ Association office, still sweating from her morning shift.

Wearing a blue suit, baseball cap and fluorescent green mesh vest, she gratefully accepts a glass of water. In an hour, she must get back to work cleaning a luxurious Hong Kong mall.

“For my age, it’s difficult to find another job,” says Shiu, who works eight hours a day, six days a week, and makes $3,600 Hong Kong dollars ($505 CAD) each month.

“I will work as long as I can work.”

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“…our (Western) moment of feminist leadership is over now, for good reasons. We know by now what our problems are as women in the West, and we know the blueprint for solving them. What we lack now is not analysis, but the organizational and political will to do so.

“So the leadership role is shifting to women in the developing world. Their agenda is more pressing, and their problems, frankly, are far more serious than ours – which makes it much more urgent for them to develop theories appropriate to the challenges they face.”

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Illustration by Nick Craine

By Deanna Ogle
Briarpatch Magazine
May/June 2009

I first heard about fathers’ rights groups when I was working at a Vancouver drop-in centre for women several years ago. A family law advocate for a similar organization in a neighbouring community told me about a group of men who would show up at court in matching T-shirts to support male members of their organization who were engaged in custody and access disputes with their ex-partners. The groups would do this to try to influence the judges and intimidate the women, who were often there without a lawyer or any other support besides the advocate. Concerned, I wondered how organized these men were and if it was a local phenomenon. To my surprise, I learned that this group was part of a global movement with a membership ranging from Caribbean Canadian Senator Anne Cools to British anti-poverty activist Bob Geldof (though the vast majority of fathers’ rights leaders and activists are white, middle-class, conservative men).

There is a diversity of thought and tactics to fathers’ rights groups, but they share a focus on issues of family law – in particular, issues surrounding custody and access to children. Organizations like Fathers 4 Justice, Fathers are Capable Too, Canadian Equal Parenting Council, Dads Canada and Equal Parenting BC have adopted the language of “equal rights” and resistance to oppression, but wield these terms in defence of traditional ideas of fatherhood and male privilege.

Although fathers’ rights groups have existed in Canada since the 1970s, it wasn’t until the mid-1990s that they began to emerge as an influential voice in divorce and child custody proceedings. In 1998 a Special Joint Committee on Child Custody and Access was convened to consult with individuals and communities across Canada on proposed changes to the Divorce Act. This committee included allies of the fathers’ rights movement such as Senator Anne Cools and committee co-chair Roger Galloway, then a Liberal MP for Sarnia Lambton. Although this consultation process was widely considered a failure (the resulting report was not adopted by the Justice Minister and none of the recommendations of the committee were adopted), it did highlight how family law has become the staging ground for a heated struggle around gender norms in modern families. With strong support from within the committee, the consultation process became a platform for fathers’ groups to air their grievances with the current system. In particular they called for “equal shared parenting” and increasing non-custodial parents’ rights.

In Canadian law there are two forms of equality that are commonly discussed, formal equality and substantive equality. A strict “formal equality” approach demands that everyone is treated exactly the same regardless of mitigating circumstances. At first glance, this approach sounds reasonable as it would allow a father’s grievance in the courts to be given equal airing to that of the mother. However, this “gender neutral” approach obscures the substantially different ways the men and women experience separation, divorce and the justice system.

While experiences of divorce and separation vary, many women find that the end of a relationship means a new life of precarity, lower income (if not complete loss of income) and single motherhood. While poverty rates among women before divorce are 16 per cent, after divorce these rates increase dramatically to 43 per cent. This drop in socio-economic status coupled with decreases in government support for family law legal aid in many areas of Canada means that women are often unable to access adequate legal representation or advice in family law matters like custody and access.

This situation is especially serious for women who are leaving abusive relationships, disabled women and newcomers who face barriers to accessing the legal system due to limited English language skills and unfamiliarity with our legal institutions. Not having access to legal advice means that these women are less likely to be able to present their arguments within legal language, and are therefore less likely to be taken seriously by the judge or mediator.

This is where substantive equality comes in. Substantive equality accounts for these patterns of discrimination and oppression in an effort to guarantee equality not just of opportunity but of outcomes. Basically, substantive equality recognizes that we don’t all start at the same place due to structures of privilege and oppression, and stipulates that giving everyone a fair chance requires that we compensate for these imbalances.

The two approaches to equality can be effectively contrasted using the example of sharing an apple with a friend. While formal equality would require splitting the apple 50/50, addressing substantive equality requires that we ask what both individuals had eaten that day and divides the apple based on need (or in this case hunger). A substantive equality argument in the case of custody and access would recognize the disproportionate burden women carry in child rearing, as well as the lack of equity many women face in the workplace.

When fathers’ rights groups speak of equality, they rely heavily on conceptions of formal equality that obscure the unequal relationships between men and women in a patriarchal society. For instance, in a document prepared by the Canadian Equal Parenting Council, equal parenting is defined as “the presumption that both parents should share responsibilities and time on the basis of equal rights. Of course parents may agree to divide duties . . . but if they can’t agree, such as in highly-conflicted divorce, both parents keep equal rights and responsibilities.”

Using a substantive equality lens, however, we must ask whether the presumption of shared responsibilities reflects the realities of families in Canada today. Statistics show that for most families today parenting is neither equal nor shared. Therefore, any discussion of responsibilities and rights must take into account women’s disproportionate burden in caring for children.

In 2004, for instance, over 14,000 women in Canada left their paid employment due to unpaid caregiving responsibilities – double the number of men – and missed an average of 10 days of work due to caregiving commitments, while men missed, on average, a day and a half. According to Statistics Canada, men have increased their participation in unpaid work in the household in the last ten years from an average of 2.1 to 2.5 hours a day. This change corresponds with a half hour decrease in women’s household labour, moving from 4.8 hours daily in 1996 to 4.3 hours in 2006. It is clear that households are changing but it is equally clear that we are a long way off of a 50/50 split in household labour.

The reality of separation in Canada today is that even when joint-custody arrangements are made, children are typically cared for primarily by the mother, while decision-making is shared by both parents. In practice, this emphasis on shared parenting and increased non-custodial parents’ rights only serves to reinforce the roles demanded of the traditional heterosexual nuclear family, with the father as the decision-maker and the mother as the primary source of unpaid reproductive labour in the form of child care, food preparation and cleaning.

In order to appease the strong local fathers’ rights movements, England and Australia have shifted away from the framework of custody and access to a shared parenting model, where each parent keeps their pre-separation roles and responsibilities. However, this shift just further perpetuates unequal relationships. A study undertaken in Australia three years after the amendments were introduced found that the changes had put an increased pressure on women to provide contact even in situations that compromised their safety. Additional studies found that the changes had not reduced conflict or litigation, nor had they substantially changed caregiving patterns. Shared parenting models, the evidence suggests, simply do not address the root problems of gendered inequality that shape women’s experience both before and after separation.

Nonetheless, members of the Conservative Party have supported further entrenching patriarchal relations through similar changes to family law. The Conservative Party has included a commitment to shared parenting after separation in various election platforms. Last year, former MP Carol Skelton and sitting Saskatchewan MPs Maurice Vellacott and David Anderson (all Conservatives) publicly pledged support to equal shared parenting in the House of Commons. Fathers 4 Justice activists continue to rally support in British Columbia and across Canada, staging banner drops off of prominent bridges while dressed as superheroes and trekking across Canada to raise awareness and money. Fathers’ rights groups have also worked together with the conservative women’s organization REAL Women to lobby for equal shared parenting. Beyond extensive lobbying and direct action tactics borrowed from social justice organizations, fathers’ rights groups have also attempted to simply bully groups into supporting their cause. Bruce Wood of the Saskatoon Men’s Resource Centre, a male-positive, pro-feminist, gay-affirmative and anti-racist non-profit organization, told Briarpatch that the Centre “has been the target of an organized campaign of harassment by fathers’ rights activists in Saskatchewan and Alberta.” The Centre, Wood said, has been “flooded” with anonymous calls, voice mail messages and emails – many of which appear to have been scripted – voicing anger at everything from the courts to women’s violence against men.

“The objective of their harassment is to confront us on our public support of the feminist movement and our work on male violence against women,” Wood said. “They also have insisted that we take a public stand in favour of something they call ‘equal shared parenting.’”

These tactics have put many feminist and pro-feminist organizations further on the defensive as they seek to maintain services at a time of funding cuts and increased demand for services. Without an infusion of new volunteers, the Saskatoon Men’s Resource Centre is at risk of having to scale back its programming. Likewise, many feminist women’s organizations have borne the brunt of cutbacks. In Vancouver, 100 per cent of the North Shore Women’s Centre’s operational funding from the provincial government was cut in 2002 and the centre has only been able to keep its doors open through community support and fundraising. In the midst of these financial struggles, the North Shore Women’s Centre has struggled to block a local fathers’ rights organization from joining a local Coordinating Committee on Violence Against Women in Intimate Relationships. The committee had been alerted to the presence of the fathers’ rights activists when they lobbied to change the language in the District of North Vancouver’s violence policy to remove any mention of gender. Michelle Dodds of the North Shore Women’s Centre told Briarpatch, “we spent a lot of time trying to figure out if they were going to come to community meetings. If we thought they were going to present at a meeting, we had to prepare people so that they would understand what it was that they were saying.”

Although the committee was able to block the group from joining, they have increasingly had to devote already strained resources to providing services not just to abused women but also to men stirred up by the angry rhetoric of the support groups organized by the local fathers’ rights centre. These support groups have been effective at capitalizing on men’s feelings of loss after separation. Playing to traditional conceptions of male authority and entitlement, these groups build upon and stoke men’s sense of victimization, scapegoating their former spouses, feminists and the courts for the failure of their relationships.

One man in North Vancouver described to a community advocate how attending fathers’ rights support group meetings caused him to develop an anger he never had before he attended the meetings. Feminist and pro-feminist organizations have had to devote increasing energy to countering these myths of victimization and to supporting men to take responsibility for their role in the failure of the relationship. According to Bruce Wood, “there are lots of men (as there are women) who are full of grief, anger, sadness and shock after a relationship comes to an end. These men deserve to be heard and to be helped heal – not to have their anger fed like a fire for political lobbying purposes.” In a past Briarpatch article (March/April 2007), Wood asserts that “heterosexual men seeking connection with and support from other men have proven easy targets for . . . fathers’ rights organizations.” Wood goes on to suggest that our “unwillingness to support and deliver comprehensive education for adult men . . . is a significant contributing factor in our failure to reduce the rate of violence against women.”

The challenge for the feminist movement is to engage men in the discussion around the relationship between fatherhood and masculinity. We must engage in these discussions not only for men but also for women, who bear the brunt of abuse and are facing a disproportionate burden in caregiving that impacts their economic freedom before and after separation.

Fathers’ rights groups have proven very effective at reaching out to and supporting men who are anxious about their perceived loss of power in a relationship that is dissolving, turning that anxiety into anger, and directing that anger outward at spouses, women in general, and the courts. They have been equally proficient at taking equality language that was originally developed out of social justice movements and using it to support traditional ideas of masculinity.

Activists need to re-engage with and support feminist and pro-feminist organizations in our community, reclaim the language of substantive equality, and contribute to rebuilding a national feminist movement to counter the fathers’ rights movement and push for real equality pre- and post-separation.

Sidebar: Challenging the myths of the fathers rights movement

By Deanna Ogle

Myth #1 – Men face a disproportionate burden when paying child support

In 1997, the federal government brought forward child support guidelines to regulate the amount that non-residential parents are obligated to pay to support their children. Prior to the regulations being introduced, recipients of child support saw their income go down by 29 per cent after divorce and the income of the payers increased 20 per cent. Clearly there was a need to balance the situation.

These new guidelines calculated payments according to income and the number of children, and have helped set a common standard across Canada that had not previously existed. That same year, the tax law was changed so that child support payments were no longer tax deductible by the payee. For many men, these policy changes represented an increase in the support they were expected to pay. The fathers’ rights group Fathers Are Capable Too characterized the regulations as “arbitrary, greedy and [an] inaccurate formulation by people who knew better.”

But according to the courts, child support is the right of the child and in their view it is the right of children to enjoy a standard of living similar to that of the non-residential parent.

Myth #2 – Men face a women-friendly bias when applying for custody

There has been a dramatic shift over the past several years towards joint custody. Joint custody in Canada allows for a child to spend similar amounts of time with each parent and requires shared decision-making. Usually there is a primary parent and generous access for the non-residential parent, with major decisions like where the child attends school made by both parents. The difference between joint custody and equal shared parenting is that joint custody is awarded on a case-by-case basis and the decision is made based on the best interests of the child. In 2004, just under half of all custody cases were granted jointly; this number roughly equalled the number of cases where custody was given to the wife only. Sole custody was given to the father in only eight per cent of the cases that year. This has led fathers’ rights groups to argue that women receive custody whenever they ask for it and men almost never receive custody. However, given that decision-making and access to children is shared in almost half of all custody and access cases, it can hardly be said, as Fathers for Justice does on their website, that “family law has evolved from being anti-female to anti-male … the pendulum has swung too far.”

In his paper “Hard Time to be a Father: Reassessing the Relationship Between Law, Policy and Family,” Richard Collier, a British legal theorist on men and family law, challenges the assumption that custody should be 50/50 between men and women, arguing that it devalues the ongoing work of women in caring for children. Collier questions the courts’ emphasis on shifting parenting practices after the relationship has broken down and instead calls for men to be accountable for their parenting practices during relationships. According to Statistics Canada, men currently do not contribute 50 per cent of the labour of raising a child and make few of the career sacrifices, so joint custody represents a substantial shift in parenting dynamics. Contrary to the myth of a women-friendly court system, it seems that the courts are giving men the benefit of the doubt in awarding joint-custody in such large numbers.

A disturbing reality is that the likelihood of sole custody being given to the father may increase if the mother alleged that the father was abusive to her or the children during the course of their relationship. In survey of 100 self-identified protective parents by researchers at California State University, 94 per cent identified that they were the primary parent in the relationship prior to separation and 87 per cent had custody at the time of separation. However, after reporting child abuse only 27 per cent of the mothers were left with custody after the resulting court proceedings. Forty-five per cent of the mothers were labelled as causing “Parental Alienation Syndrome” in their children. (See below for a discussion of Parental Alienation Syndrome.)

Myth #3 – Women often make up stories of abuse to discredit the other parent’s custody bid

The fathers’ rights movement alleges that women lie to the courts and make up stories of abuse to “get back” at the father. Groups like Fathers are Capable Too argue that Parental Alienation Syndrome, a supposed condition with no scientific foundation, is a disorder that results from the dysfunctional and adversarial divorce system.

Only five per cent of separation and divorce cases end up as “high conflict” cases where parents are not able to come to a mutual agreement on custody, access and child support, but instead go to trial. High-conflict family law cases are often characterized by a history of violence within the family. If they acknowledge such violence, fathers’ rights activists characterize these cases as instances of men driven to violence over the stress of the legal battle, lashing out in anger at spouses who have unfairly denied their access to their children. However, many fathers’ rights sites don’t even bother to justify violence as they simply deny it exists, claiming that women unfairly and inaccurately fabricate stories of abuse in order to separate the children from their father.

This narrative of embittered women lashing out at helpless fathers through the children represents one of the main areas of pseudo-science that has emerged from the father’s rights movement: Parental Alienation Syndrome. Parental Alienation Syndrome was “discovered” by the late Dr. Richard Gardner in 1985 while he was working as a paid consultant to men charged with sexually abusing their children. Gardner defined Parental Alienation Syndrome as “a disorder that arises primarily in the context of child custody disputes.” He claimed that “it results from a combination of a programming (brainwashing) parent’s indoctrinations and the child’s own contributions to the vilification of the target parent.”

Gardner often dismissed claims of abuse voiced by children as merely symptoms of parental alienation, where one parent (typically the mother) has turned the children against the other parent.

Critics of Gardner’s work, and there are many, have highlighted that Parental Alienation Syndrome fails to account for the multiple factors potentially contributing to a child’s rejection of a parent, thus grossly oversimplifying a complex situation. Gardner justifies this simplification based on a very constrictive definition of how “real” sexually abused children behave. If an abused child does not behave in the narrow manner that Gardner proposes, he assumes no abuse has taken place. Thus, Parental Alienation Syndrome’s assessment procedures rely on a circular logic that almost guarantees the conclusion that a given child has the syndrome.

In Canada, two Queen’s University law professors, Nicholas Bala and John Schuman, reviewed 196 judges’ decisions between 1990 and 1998 where allegations of physical and sexual abuse were made in the context of separation in order to determine what patterns emerged. They found that judges concluded that only a third of all false allegations were a result of individuals deliberately lying in court. Moreover, the study found that men were far more likely to make intentionally false allegations of abuse, as 21 per cent of men brought forward intentionally false allegations compared to only 1.3 per cent of women.

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Global Symposium on Engaging Men and Boys on Achieving Gender Equality
Rio de Janeiro
March 29 – April 3, 2009

PART ONE: PREAMBLE
We come from eighty countries. We are men and women, young and old, working side by side with respect and shared goals. We are active in community organizations, religious and educational institutions; we are representatives of governments, NGOs and the United Nations. We speak many languages, we look like the diverse peoples of the world and carry their diverse beliefs and religions, cultures, physical abilities, and sexual and gender identities. We are indigenous peoples, immigrants, and ones whose ancestors moved across the planet. We are fathers and mothers, daughters and sons, brothers and sisters, partners and lovers, husbands and wives.

What unites us is our strong outrage at the inequality that still plagues the lives of women and girls, and the self-destructive demands we put on boys and men. But even more so, what brings us together here is a powerful sense of hope, expectation, and possibility for we have seen the capacity of men and boys to change, to care, to cherish, to love passionately, and to work for justice for all.

We are outraged by the pandemic of violence women face at the hands of some men, by the relegation of women to second class status, and the continued domination by men of our economies, of our politics, of our social and cultural institutions, in far too many of our homes. We also know that among women there are those who fare even worse because of their social class, their religion, their language, their physical differences, their ancestry, their sexual orientation, or simply where they live.

There are deep costs to boys and men from the ways our societies have defined men’s power and raised boys to be men. Boys deny their humanity in search of an armor-plated masculinity. Young men and boys are sacrificed as cannon fodder in war for those men of political, economic, and religious power who demand conquest and domination at any cost. Many men cause terrible harm to themselves because they deny their own needs for physical and mental care or lack services when they are in need.

Too many men suffer because our male-dominated world is not only one of power of men over women, but of some groups of men over others. Too many men, like too many women, live in terrible poverty, in degradation, or are forced to do body- or soul-destroying work to put food on the table.

Too many men carry the deep scars of trying to live up to the impossible demands of manhood and find terrible solace in risk-taking, violence, self-destruction or the drink and drugs sold to make a profit for others. Too many men experience violence at the hands of other men.

Too many men are stigmatized and punished for the simple fact they love, desire and have sex with other men.

We are here because we know that the time when women stood alone in speaking out against discrimination and violence – that this time is coming to an end.

We also know this: This belief in the importance of engaging men and boys is no longer a remote hope. We see the emergence of organizations and campaigns that are directly involving hundreds of thousands, millions of men in almost every country on the planet. We hear men and boys speaking out against violence, practicing safer sex, and supporting women’s and girl’s reproductive rights. We see men caring, loving, and nurturing for other men and for women. We see men who embrace the daily challenges of looking after babies and children, and delight in their capacity to be nurturers. We see many men caring for the planet and rejecting conquering nature just as men once conquered women.

We are gathering not simply to celebrate our first successes, but, with all the strength we possess, to appeal to parents, teachers, and coaches, to the media and businesses, to our governments, NGOs, religious institutions, and the United Nations, to mobilize the political will and economic resources required to increase the scale and impact of work with men and boys to promote gender equality. We know how critical it is that institutions traditionally controlled by men reshape their policies and priorities to support gender equality and the well-being of women, children, and men. And we know that a critical part of that is to reshape the world of men and boys, the beliefs of men and boys, and the lives of men and boys.

FULL ARTICLE

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