About a week ago, I got into sort of an on-line argument with a blogger who said that, as a feminist, she hated the 'Fearless Girl' statue down near the NY Stock Exchange. Her view was that it trivialized women's strength and opposition to forces (such as what the bull represents) that seek to trample women and other marginalized groups.
My view is that I identify with the girl. I don't feel like a Joan of Arc or even a Rosie the Riveter. I've never been a fighter; my motto is "she who runs away / lives to run another day." My life has been about surviving. And being, well, femme. So I appreciate that downtown, where the bulls trample everyone smaller than them, there's a statue of someone small and weak like me. Who is still standing. For all the rather Trump-like bluster that the bull's sculptor has dumped on her for "mocking" his artistic masterpiece, she's still there and she's still standing.
I identify with her because I think I'm really femme -- in my own way. Not the 6-inch-heels and lipstick and fishnet stockings femme, more little-girl femme. I'm into soft and pretty, into nurturing and cuddling babies and keeping an eye out for lost sheep. I wish I were small and could rock a girl's dress like 'Fearless Girl' does, even if I don't have her courage.
But even though I've been feminist all my life, I don't feel like most of feminism has a place for women like me. Women are supposed to be strong and tough and leading Teh Resistance (and kind of butch, too.) And that is so not me. The blogger's dislike of 'Fearless Girl' felt like the dislike of women like me, whom she dismisses as "little girls."
My "Resistance," such as it is, lies in endurance. When I was young, everything about me was bad, bad, bad. I didn't fight (or else learned at a very early age that I could never win), so I hid. Years later, when it became clear that I could get away with being myself, I started to show little bits of myself to see how I'd be received, and as it became clear that it was safe to come out, I did. The bullies may have thought they triumphed, but I'm still here and I'm most of the way back to being me. What's more, in a world increasingly controlled by people who hate people who (like me) Don't Fit(tm), I continue to be me. I transitioned and I'm still here. I go around showing my face, even though it's pretty obvious just to look at me that I'm trans, and I'm still here. They may come back and kill me, but you know? In 20-30 years I'll be dead anyway, so what's the difference? At the moment, I'm me and I'm still here.
Just like 'Fearless Girl.'