On womanhood
I never knew that International Women's Day was a thing until maybe six years ago. Only shortly after that did I discover that it is quite a "real" holiday in several other countries, including the one in which I was born. If I had been raised there, I might have spent this past weekend being showered with cheer and flowers by friends, family, colleagues, and maybe even a partner. I've never witnessed this day publicly acknowledged in the United States.
As a child, I never really looked up to any women. I did not look up to my adoptive mother, and I don't recall us ever discussing womanhood beyond having to deal with menstruation. I was also a bit tomboyish, athletic and never interested in dolls or makeup. Eventually I outgrew this, embracing my more feminine side as a young teenager, but I still can't say that womanhood meant anything to me at this point.
I sometimes read about women in my high school history textbooks, how they fought for suffrage and things like that. It pains me to say that it felt scripted; I never finished those courses feeling like those women meant much more to me than any other historical figure I was supposed to memorize. Of course, I am grateful. I know I would likely not be in my current position or even typing this blog post if not for those who fought for women's rights. But for some reason I never saw myself in them.
After escaping the Republican home and suburb in which I grew up, things changed a bit. Not instantly though. Fortunately, I grew out of any conservative ideals that my parents forced upon me like I grew out of my tomboyishness. I think I was forced to confront not only womanhood but also my womanhood when I was assigned The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir in one of my college courses. This is one of several factors that changed my way of thinking. Cliché, I know.
I can name two women I have in some way idolized since then. Ironically, they both have struggled with or even pushed against the feminist label during their professional careers. That was not what drew me to them, but I think it is an interesting observation.
The first time I ever admired a woman was in my final term of college. I found myself in an eccentric philosophy course offered only once at my university. One of the texts we read was The Human Condition by Hannah Arendt. Though her name was familiar, I was then still unfamiliar with her writings. Yet I knew after reading only a few passages that I had to dig deeper and find out who she was. Where had she been all my life?
In my adulthood I can recall only two books I have reread, and The Human Condition is one of them. I have read most of Arendt's books, memorably wrestling with The Origins of Totalitarianism during the pandemic when I was sick of my research and found that a fitting distraction. I dream of being able to visit the University of Heidelberg someday and feel her spirit.
Few would describe Arendt as a feminist. Her writings seldom mentioned women's issues, and she even thought that some occupations were not well suited to women. That didn't discourage me. I just kept reading.
I don't think she was anti-feminist though. She was anti-label. I'm not saying that is good or bad. She just did her own thing, and I think that is why I am fond of her. To say that she was disadvantaged is an understatement: Arendt was not only a woman but also a Jew who escaped the Nazi regime and detainment in France, eventually stateless for several years. Yet she somehow managed to become a revolutionary thinker who remained true to herself while entrenched in male-dominated fields, even after having survived the horrors of Nazi Germany. Whether she likes it or not, that's truly one of the most feminist things I've ever heard.
The second woman I admire is Angela Merkel, someone who swept her female identity under the rug more or less during her entire chancellorship. As I currently work through her memoir, I find myself highlighting her reflections on young womanhood. Like Arendt, she just did her own thing. Her shift from science to the public sector is something I hope to emulate. Importantly, she didn't give up despite being treated differently, be it in science or politics, as a woman from the East. As a budding politician, she quickly noticed that most men had an advantage over her simply due to their height and pitch of their voice. She sometimes had a hunch that male politicians said things to her that they would not have to other men. As a fellow woman, I suspect her intuition was correct more often than not.
Even though the times have changed a bit since Merkel was working in science, I still resonate with a lot of these anecdotes. Sometimes I don't even notice the little things though. Since starting graduate school, I have had my advisor and other students ask me how I felt about my male colleagues not giving me room to talk. I had no idea.
Neither Arendt nor Merkel is perfect, of course. I don't agree with everything they have said or done. For example, Arendt opposed desegregation in American schools. And while I rather refrain from commenting on others' personal lives, her relationship with Heidegger, famous philosopher and a Nazi party member, was interesting to say the least. As it always goes with politics, I don't agree with everything Merkel did, and I am disappointed by all the things she did not do domestically to combat climate change. I wish she would have been more vocal about what it is like to be a role model for women and girls worldwide.
But thanks to these women, I feel a little less insecure about the choices I make when I sometimes don't fit society's ideal image of a woman because they didn't either. While I no doubt identify as one, I still feel alienated from womanhood. I work in male-dominated spaces, and many of my hobbies lean this way as well. The majority of my close friends are men. I'm nearing 30 and not in a long-term relationship, and I am not a huge fan of the concept of marriage. Most notably, I don't want to have children. For that reason I underwent elective surgery three years ago to make sure I don't have to experience childbirth. And of course, to protect myself. Because that's necessary, as a woman. Even though I made this decision for myself, it is another interesting observation that both Arendt and Merkel did not raise children.
It's still challenging though. At the end of the day, an image of myself as A Woman eludes me. I still feel like a little girl more often than not. After all, I still kind of look like a child. In recent years I have experienced only stints of womanhood — basically, whenever I know I am not a man. When I have to exert myself to be heard in a room full of men. When I am followed by a stranger on public transportation and must fear for my livelihood. When men yell things at me from their car window when I am simply walking outside. When I lift a new personal record but know I will never be stronger than a man.
Needless to say, it's hard to be a woman right now. In many countries, not just the US. This week I'm trying to think a lot about these women I respect. I'm trying to not question the paths I've chosen or not chosen. I'm trying to cherish the interactions I have with fellow women in my life.