Why is fragility so valued in women? Is it simply that helpless dependence makes men feel stronger and more powerful, reinforcing their role as leaders and providers in society?
I don’t want to be part of a culture that is frozen in the past. I want to be part of a developing world, in which we can all thrive. Clinging to outdated ideas, or the status quo will only hinder all our progress
Research shows that women who want to succeed are told that they need to consciously monitor themselves to balance assertion with enough caring/nurturing behaviours so they don’t upset the way in which others are used to seeing the world working. How much longer do we need to hide our strength behind a soft outer shell to be accepted and recognised for what we can contribute?
What are we doing in reading Rapunzel to our sons and daughters? A girl who was so conditioned to focus on her looks that she fails to realise that she could use her own hair to abseil down the tower and escape to freedom. So much for realistic life expectations and good role models.
Stay on the path and don’t talk to strangers is the advice from little Red Riding Hood’s mother as she sends her off on another elder care errand, a little basket of cakes dangling from her arm.
There are so many women who have inspired me, and made my life and career a little richer. So thank you to all those feminists who stood up and challenged those in power enabling me to study, to work after marriage, to own property and to vote. Thank you to those who endeavoured to get me equal pay. Thank you to those who are making it clear that sexual harassment is not OK.
According to UNESCO estimates, 130 million girls between the age of 6 and 17 are out of school and 15 million girls of primary-school age will never enter a classroom. What’s taking us so long to get this right; when people like Mary Wollstonecraft was arguing as early as 1791 that women were deserving of the same fundamental rights as men and were not just ornaments to society or property to be traded in marriage?
When I was a child, I would read fairy tales late into the night by the light on the landing outside my bedroom (unless I was caught that is…). I despised the insipid heroines waiting patiently for rescue instead identifying with those who used their skills to rescue their brothers or cursed princes by weavingContinue reading “Some day my prince will come”