A few weeks ago, Chasity asked me if I would write a guest post for her blog during Women’s History Month. I’d never really given much thought to Women’s History Month, but it seemed like a fun thought exercise. Here’s where my brain ended up.
Lessons in Feminism From Southern Mothers & Gilmore Girls
To be honest, I didn’t know until recently that March was Women’s History Month. I’m not sure what rock I’ve been living under, but that’s the truth. So I can’t really tell you any glowing stories about what this month means to me. What I can tell you is that, at the ripe old age of 26, I’ve embraced a brand of feminism that is centered on choice.
I have a complicated relationship with the word “feminism.” I grew up in Mississippi, the only child of a Connecticut Yankee mother and a Southern Californian father, both highly educated. They were together quite awhile before they had me, and my mom kept her last name when they married. I learned to read early and attended public schools somewhat as a matter of principle. I always assumed I would go to graduate school. I never dreamed about my wedding day. Of course, I thought, I could be whatever I wanted to be when I grew up. Of course, it seemed like I ought to be a feminist.
And yet all of the women I came to admire were traditional Southern women who looked nothing like what I figured a feminist to be.
Read the rest on ChasityCooper.com—>
