Constructing Scholarly Identity through the Exploration of Feminist Rhetoric, Literacy, and Activism

9–14 minutes

read

What does it mean to be a feminist? At the most basic level, I understood feminism as believing in equality for women. I held my simple definition of what feminism was until I began interacting with other feminists in upper-division and graduate college courses; that’s when I knew it was time to start complicating things. Many of my peers and professors at that institution (where I received both my Bachelors and Masters degrees) talked a lot about feminism–feminist pedagogy, feminist research, feminist activism. However, I quickly learned that not all of us understood feminism in the same way. They (with the exception of a handful of people) were those “common oppression” feminists bell hooks talked about in Feminist Theory from Margin to Center–conservative, privileged white women, either willfully ignorant to or all too happy to “ignore the differences between their social status and the status of masses of women. . .to make their interests the primary focus” (6). I was always aware of the class difference between my peers and I, but I didn’t realize how much more aware that it made me. Even after almost all of us were assigned Brittney Cooper’s chapter “Intersectionality” in our intro to grad studies class, so many of them remained in their 2nd wave feminism mentality unable or unwilling to recognize any identity that wasn’t also their own. Eventually, I just bowed out of conversations inside and outside of class regarding anything related to feminism, and that’s where I stayed until fairly recently.

My reeducation in feminist scholarship has been the complete opposite of the one I received at my previous institution. This essay explores a range of such scholarship, focusing on rhetorics, literacies, and activism, my understanding of this work, and my journey back to feminist scholarship.

Approaches to Feminist Rhetoric

In their collection, Buchanan and Ryan use the term “feminist rhetorics” in a variety of ways  Walking and Talking Feminist Rhetorics as they explore the different ways they manifest through methods and methodologies and different sites, genres, and styles of rhetoric. The ones I find most relevant here define feminist rhetorics as a term that 1) “describes an intellectual project dedicated to recognizing and revising systems and structures broadly linked to the oppression of women”, 2) “encompasses a community of teacher/scholars with shared interests in the intersections of race and gender”, and 3) “describes a political agenda directed toward promoting gender equality within the academy and society” (xiii). 

For the most part, Stenberg and Hogg’s book Persuasive Acts ascribes to the first operationalization–and I argue they would use that to describe the texts in their collection as well. However, I hesitate to wholeheartedly call this text something that’s actively addressing and working against all the systems that oppress women. Although Stenberg and Hogg include and cite many women of color, I find it troubling that neither of them explicitly address their own whiteness and class privilege; it feels of the utmost importance to critically engage in that type of self reflection when race and class are consistently cited as influential in understanding both feminism and oppression.  #solidarityisforwhitewomen (Kendall, 2021). I feel similarly about the inclusion of the text “Why I’m a Pro-Life Feminist”, especially when one of the editors lives in a state that is actively stripping women of their bodily autonomy and seeks to prosecute and punish them for seeking healthcare. Obviously, I have a bit of bias here, but that just seems like the wrong choice when there are women almost dying because they don’t have access to life-saving healthcare in the state you live in.

Rebecca Dingo’s book Networking Rhetorics: Rhetoric, Transnational Feminism, and Public Policy Writing presents a different exploration of rhetoric. She rhetorically examines global policy-making as it relates to feminist issues, gender mainstreaming, and the impacts of globalization. She presents an interesting approach to looking at public policy that I think will be useful when exploring abortion bans and other reproductive legislation. 

Literacy and the Use of Language

A key element of feminist scholarship is the power of language and literacy as means of resistance. No one does this better than Jacqueline Jones Royster. In Traces of a Stream: Literacy and Social Change Among African American Women, Royster seamlessly weaves together rhetoric and literacy studies and social and political theory with African American women’s literacy and lives. She showcases how “literacy has meant more than the mere deciphering and producing of little letters on a page. . .becoming literate has meant gaining the skills to read and to write; it has also meant taking the power and authority to know ourselves, others, and our circumstances in multisensible ways and to act with authority based on that knowing” (61).

Several scholars pay special attention to literacy as a means of resistance, survival, and self-definition. Focusing on the education of young Black girls, Muhammad and Haddix (2016), explore multiliteracies–“digital literacies, language practices, literacy collaboratives, performative literacies, reading and reading development, representations in texts, response to literature, and writing” (307)–through an extensive literature review. McArthur (2016) dives deeper in the literacies of Black girls, exploring the importance of critical media literacy and how it can be used for social activism. She discusses how centering Black girls’ lived experiences through critical media literacy can be empowering in terms of critical thinking and positive self-identity as they use it as a tool to challenge and reshape degrading media narratives of Black women and girls. Richardson (2002) also explores the power of literacy, focusing on the concept of “mother tongue literacy” and how language and other cultural practices work against systemic racism and sexism. 

Beverly Moss’s article “‘Phenomenal Women,’ Collaborative Literacies, and Community Texts in Alternative ‘Sista” Spaces” explores how African American women use literacy as a method for self help while also engaging in civil action. She discusses her research with the African-Americans women’s community service club–Phenomenal Women Incorporated (P.W. Inc) focusing on her research question “What are the literacy and language practices that define the civic and social practices of this African-American women’s community organization, and what is the relationship between those practices?” (6). She argues that the women in P.W. Inc act as both the sponsored and sponsors of literacy (drawing from Brandt’s “sponsors of literacy”) through collaborative literacies and community literacy events engaged in reading and writing. Moss highlights how this act forges and reinforces “sista bonds” in “sista spaces”–“a private, community site of their own in which to value, engage, and use literacy as a communal, social act” (23). 

Activism and Allyship

An essential part of this project is engaging in scholarly activism and allyship–both of which, I have seen, can look very different depending on who you ask. I tend to approach scholarly activism as an umbrella term for scholarship that engages specifically with the activism of others through discussion or analysis or is activist focused itself. 

Jacqueline Jones Royster and Molly Cochran discuss the interconnectedness of civil rights and human rights in their article, “Human Rights and Civil Rights: The Advocacy and Activism of African-American Women Writers”. Through an exploration of African American women’s writing, They argue that African American women have been instrumental in linking the struggle for civil rights in the U.S. with global human rights discourses and that their activism has always had a global dimension that recognizes the inherent dignity of all people. 

In her chapter “Taking Time for Feminist Historiography: Remembering Asian/Asian American Institutional and Scholarly Activism”, Jenifer Sano-Franchini emphasizes the importance of documenting the contributions of Asian and Asian American scholars within feminist activism, particularly within academic institutions. Through her examination (via feminist historiography) of the NCTE archive, she seeks to recover and amplify the often-overlooked voices of Asian/Asian American activists and highlights how archival research can serve as a feminist praxis to reshape our understanding of history and identity. Additionally, she advocates for a more intersectional approach to feminist historiography and urges “us to recognize diverse forms of labor as necessary for meaningful change, especially in the midst of a neoliberal work ethic”  (Sano-Franchini 62).

Jacqueline Rhodes calls on white activists to be coconspirators in the dismantling of oppressive structures and as we engage in activist movements and events. In her chapter, “Slutwalk is Not Enough: Notes toward a Critical Feminist Rhetoric”, she critically examines the SlutWalk movement on its own and in the larger context of feminist movements and tactics. analysis of the and argues for a critical feminist rhetoric that combines performance, virality, and intersectionality. She also looks inward at herself and her role as a white ally, stating “I must both speak and be mindful not to speak for or speak over. . .And so, I write, carefully, respectfully, full of rage, ready to conspire” (Rhodes 90). Rhodes paints a picture of what every white feminist/ally should strive to be. I would argue that this is especially evident if you read her work alongside Brittney C. Cooper’s “SlutWalks vs. Ho Strolls”, which looks at the same event(s) through a Black feminist lens (Cooper et. al, 2017).

Feminist/Activist/Scholar/Ash?

My understanding of feminism is woven together with my understanding of activism and being a scholar; they’re all interconnected elements of my identity. In the opening narrative I talk about reclaiming/discovering this, and it would not have been possible without the feminist scholarship in this portfolio. 

Ain’t I a Woman and Feminist Theory from Margin to Center by bell hooks were non-negotiable inclusions in this work–both seminal texts in feminist criticism and foundational for understanding intersectional, antiracist feminist practice. Ain’t I a Woman focuses on the exclusion of the experience and struggles of Black women and critically challenges both mainstream feminism and the civil rights movement through her interrogation of the intersections of race, gender, and class. Feminist Theory from Margin to Center continues the critique of the feminist movement and its focus on white, middle-class women. hooks argues for feminism that centers the experiences of women typically on the margin; one that is truly revolutionary and seeks to change society rather than find equality in the existing one. 

These texts set the foundation for how I engaged with other scholarship referenced here (in fact, they set the foundation for and made possible most of the texts I reference in this portfolio); texts like The Crunk Feminist Collection (Cooper et al. 2017), Hood Feminism: Notes from the Women That a Movement Forgot (Kendall 2021),  A Decolonial Feminism (Vergès, translated by Ashley J. Bohrer 2021), Black Feminism Reimagined (Nash 2019), We Only Talk Feminist Here: Feminist Academics, Voice and Agency in the Neoliberal University (Lipton and Mackinlay 2017), and The Trouble with White Women (Schuller 2021). The texts from Cooper et al. and Kendall were so inspiring, especially in terms of my own scholarly identity. The authors are not only brilliant, they’re also unapologetically themselves–something that elevates their work and makes them books that you want to keep reading and revisit. (I checked them out from the library and then immediately put them in my Amazon cart.)  

Vergès, Nash, Lipton and Mackinlay, and Schuller all extend the argument for an intersectional, antiracist feminism and challenge the Western/white woman centric feminism that is so often prevalent. In A Decolonial Feminism, Vergès focuses on the need to decolonize feminism, making it more inclusive of Indigenous women and women from the global South. Nash’s book Black Feminism Reimagined critically examines the relationship between intersectionality, Black feminism, and academic institutions; she argues for a reimagined Black feminism that pushes beyond intersectionality. Lipton and Mackinlay ground their work in their book We Only Talk Feminist Here in qualitative research with interviews and conversations with feminist academics in Australia and explore the experiences, challenges, and what it means to “talk feminist” in a neoliberal academic context. Schuller’s book, The Trouble with White Women, discusses the ways white women have, and continue to, push aside and silence the needs and voices of women of color from the suffrage movement to present day and how they are more than happy to be complicit in the perpetuation of systems of oppression.

I hesitate to describe how I define feminism or what it means for me to be a feminist; however I would like to include this excerpt from Robin M. Boylorn’s “Mama’s Feminism”  from the Crunk Feminist Collective (288-289)–with additions from Mikki Kendall’s Hood Feminism–that particularly speak to my understanding of what feminism is and the kind of feminist I want to be:

My feminism kickass and takes names. It isn’t just academic theory. It isn’t a matter of saying the right words at the right time. My feminism is peaceful in practice but ready for war. My feminism is in conversation with other feminisms and makes room for difference. It’s the work that you do, and the people you do it for who matter more than anything else. My feminism is homegrown. Rebellious. Reckoning. Evolving. Unapologetic. And beautiful. My feminism is opinionated. It questions everything.

My feminism is not always right, but it’s never wrong. It walks into a meeting and says, “Hey, you’re fucking up and here’s how,” and nice feminists feign shock at my harsh words. My feminism has insomnia. My feminism gets tired. My feminism is antiracist, antisexist, and conscious of class issues. My feminism knows what misogyny means. 

My feminism has dreams.

(2024)

Works Cited