This article was triggered by the accumulation of online posts, discussions, and arguments revolving around feminism. The latest of these was a spiteful online attack on a fellow male student for calling himself a ‘feminist’. Or another string of comments that attempted to silence a woman because she stated the need for male support in feminism. Occasions like these, where one person is belittled due to their “uneducated”, “unhelpful” or simply “wrong” opinions, are not uncommon.

Whether I agreed or disagreed with various statements undoubtedly solidified my own stance. And yet it appeared that my position was not clear-cut or solely confined to one side, for I agreed with some of the points being made, but the execution of these points and the wave of click bait that ensued was off-putting and alienating. Attempting to consolidate and justify my views, I drew firstly on my own experience. An anecdote follows.

A man sat next to me on a bus and felt me up. I was sitting next to the window. I stood up to get off. He placed his hand on the back of my thigh and ran it up and up. Kept going. After the event, sitting at the police station and giving a statement, I wondered if I was taking things a little too far. Then I thought about how much stronger I would be as a person after this. You know, character building, resilience, the good things that come out of this shit.

This experience is, unfortunately, valuable to me. It is also valid, because it is valid to me. Yet, when it comes to my views and opinions on feminism, I feel somewhat stifled and insignificant. Why is it that my experiences are undeniably valid, lived things, but my opinions, shaped mainly by my experiences as a woman, are more hesitant?

My newsfeed is covered with opinions on feminism, often from the same group of people at my university. I am inundated with information. With this information comes aggression, however. It is an aggression that purports to be necessary, yet I see this facet of online feminism as doing more to alienate and build an exclusive brand than to further a cause.

The Women’s Campaign (and its online presence) unfortunately drowns out some voices of other women. Given that my experiences seem more legitimate than my opinions, I will share three important experiences that relate to why I take issue with this aggression.

Experience 1: I went on a swap one night last term with some boys from another college. On the way back from the restaurant, I overheard two of these boys discussing how a girl is “fit, but only for her college.” I thought I might have misheard (now I am sure I didn’t) but I decided to keep walking. We made out way to our college bar, having invited these boys into our space. As I’m walking to the bar, a good friend of mine tells me how she overheard the same boys making comments along the lines of “yeah, she’s alright, but too skinny for me” whilst ogling a friend on her way to the bathroom. This was alongside other demeaning “ratings”. I decided to walk up to them and take issue with what they had said. As I was “having a go” I looked to a friend next to me, hoping she would back me up. I got nothing, and her phone covered her mouth as she muttered “twats”, hiding her voiced opinion. I left after my probably incoherent mouthful and a few minutes later, friends from my college walk over to these boys, aware of the situation but seeming to ignore it, in favour of some causal flirting, hair flicking and general giggling. 

Experience 2: A choral scholar bad-mouths a woman, callously asserting that she had no presence on stage (along the lines of ‘irrelevant’). This statement was made in the company of women. One of my female friends is shocked, and expresses this facially, but is hesitant to do so verbally. Some other women do not say anything. I called him out on his rudeness, going a bit red faced and having to repeat myself because he didn’t hear me the first time. He replies: “I was joking.” That’s the end of it, then. 

Experience 3: I’m sitting with a group of friends in the college bar. A male friend sits down in front of me. He starts clicking his fingers vigorously behind him, and after a few seconds it becomes clear that he is clicking to his date to come over. Our group expresses disgust towards this action, and collectively we tell him that this is wrong. As she walks over he professes that it is “a joke”. After we tell him that clicking at a woman is not OK, she sits next to me and whispers, “Yeah, I’m actually not happy about it”. She whispers so that our male friend does not hear.

As I write this, it seems as though my anger towards the men has translated into anger towards these women. It is, however, anger towards a situation that seems to have stemmed from a place where only a select group of women can be a part of the campaign for women’s rights. More than this, it is only these women who can be vocal about their feminism. It appears to me that the women in the above experiences, if they truly felt a part of the cause (with a relevant voice), would have said something. Some of these women consistently like and share posts relating to gender inequality, but this silent liking and sharing of posts does not translate to real life. As long as women do not connect with the feminist movement, men will continue to act as if their aggressions are OK, because they are not called out on it in real life.

Further, it is important, as well as paving one’s own path in feminism, as well as fighting for the cause, to include as many women as possible in this fight, instead of tearing them to pieces or excluding them inadvertently through intimidation (as has been the case). Can us women not collectively be assertive, firm, and kind?

There is a need to include all women in feminism. Instead of shouting down those men willing to be allies (“feminism is not about you”) why not focus on the more positive “feminism is about you” . . . to fellow women? Yes, it’s important to share things online, but when it becomes a cyber-war and a form of online bullying (through the use of Facebook, Twitter or even Hermes Webmail) it creates an unattractive image of a campaign that needs to be supported, not feared.

The way I see it, it’s about more people having a voice and claiming that voice, rather than the select experienced few holding onto that voice for themselves. I have immense awe and admiration towards the women tirelessly fighting against aggressions and for intersectional equality. And yet, though perhaps unintentionally, it seems that the voice of feminism (certainly in this university) is being held on to rather than shared. Without sharing it, men will continue to walk over women in real life, even if we stamp down on that online.