Transnational Feminism History
At the Age of Eight, I Found Myself Biting My Tongue
My grandfather was before me, across from the dinner table speaking coarsely to my grandmother over dinner-again.
His thick accent echoed in the air, as she tensed, but eased slightly to glance at me and give me a forced yet sorrowful smile.
But her smile slowly faded as my eyes cut towards my grandfather to open my mouth and speak,
“Do not speak to Grandma like that.”
I did it, I said it, and as fast I said it, as fast I would regret it when my grandmother hushed me and called me disrespectful for speaking to my grandfather that way. Across from me, my grandfather’s eyes are wide in discontent. At that moment, I felt like I did a very bad thing. The moment I had seen my grandmother be subjugated to my grandfather’s old traditional values, and her submissive nature as a homestead wife, I recoiled in distaste. It had a name. I was unsure what it was at that time, my young childish state could not fandom what made me so upset at my grandfather, why each time his words of mental and emotional abuse would cut through the air straight towards my joyous grandmother like a target, to strike her heart.
As I grew up, studying within various feminist discourses, and problems internationally, I can say this very thing was misogyny, and patriarchal exertion of power. These days as I study women of the world, through transnational feminism, I can see my grandmother so closely. Like a fine ball point pen, etching her oppressions through years of what her mother would have endured, and her mother’s mother. Journalist Sandra Duvivier speaks to the constructions of women’s bodies within a broken system such as Jamaica. My Body is My Piece of Land, she discusses, similar to Haiti, Jamaica’s “patriarchal constructions of women’s bodies, which place the benefits of women’s sexuality at the hands of men, poor and working-class. Women’s definitions allow for female agency and capitalizing off of their own bodies.” Jamaica's violence on women's bodies is similar to that on the island's land. Women have been raised in fear, creating a culture of displacement within their communities. Andre Lorde once stated, “In the male construct of brute force, our lives depended upon the goodwill of patriarchal power.” These women’s bodies were exploited to make a profit to control that narrative.
As a student and journalist, I have found myself studying international issues regarding women’s rights. By my sophomore year in college I studied transnational feminism, I looked into Shirin Neshat is an Iranian-American photographer and artist. She is an activist for women’s body’s in the means of sexual violence, socio-political upheaval as well as religious discourse when it comes to women in Palestine, Iran and the middle eastern territories. As I flipped through Shirin Neshat's photography book, I was struck by the raw emotion captured in each image. Her work delves deep into the struggles faced by women in regions marked by societal unrest and religious colloquy. Through her lens, she exposes the harsh realities of sexual violence, oppression, and the constant battle for autonomy over one's own body. Neshat's art is a tool of advocacy, shedding light on issues that often remain hidden or ignored. Her images provoke thought and spark conversation, challenging societal norms and advocating for change.
Within my junior year of college I studied the gorilla wars in South America, and how Cuban women and other Latina women were the backbone of a variety of protest and organizational effects. In my junior year of college, I delved into the complexities of the gorilla wars in South America, particularly focusing on the pivotal roles Cuban and other Latina women played in various protests and organizational efforts. This intersection between my studies in English and the exploration of socio-political dynamics in South America highlighted the interconnectedness of disciplinary discourses and illuminated the multifaceted nature of feminist activism across different cultural contexts. The experiences of women in South America, particularly in regions affected by conflict and political turmoil, offer poignant insights into the resilience and agency of marginalized communities. Despite facing systemic oppression and violence, women have emerged as key agents of change, challenging patriarchal structures and advocating for social justice.
Within the studies I have done, I have realized the importance of the voices of these women I have read. Each history within the countries I have studied have their own form of cruelty towards women. Drawing parallels between the struggles of women in Jamaica, as elucidated by Sandra Duvivier, and those in South America underscores the universality of the patriarchal constructs that permeate societies worldwide. Whether it is the commodification of women's bodies or the perpetuation of gender-based violence, these issues resonate across geographical boundaries, necessitating transnational feminist solidarity and collaborative efforts for meaningful change. The intersectionality of gender, race, class, and other intersecting identities further complicates the discourse surrounding women's rights and liberation. These women had to navigate intersecting systems of oppression, including colonial legacies, economic disparities, and cultural norms that intersect with gender dynamics.
Recognizing and addressing these intersecting forms of oppression is crucial for advancing inclusive and intersectional feminist agendas. I am increasingly aware of the importance of interdisciplinary approaches in addressing complex social phenomena. By bridging the gap between literary analysis and socio-cultural inquiry, we can gain deeper insights into the lived experiences of marginalized communities and work towards creating more equitable and just societies. My grandmother's experiences, etched into the lines of her face and the weariness in her eyes, became a catalyst for my exploration of feminist theory and activism. Through my studies, I have come to recognize the ways in which women like my grandmother navigate oppressive structures and resist subjugation, often through acts of quiet resilience and everyday resistance.
Reference
C. Duvivier S. My body is my piece of land - JSTOR. (n.d.). Retrieved December 11, 2022, from https://www.jstor.org/stable/27654969