Word: feministic
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...haven’t always been a Feminist. Truthfully, until I took “Introduction to Women’s Studies” spring semester, the word “feminist” made me think of the bra-burning protests of the 1960s—not an image I was going for. Over the course of the semester, however, I learned that feminism, like any political ideology, runs the gamut from moderate (only legal equality) to extremist (men’s castration), and I realized that my views fit in the middle of the spectrum...
Just calling myself a feminist felt cheap, though. Having never experienced acute discrimination for being a woman, I didn’t have a context for my budding feminism. While the suffragists of the First Wave marched for the vote, and the Second Wave feminists cried out against legal gender discrimination, there was no tangible Third Wave I could join. And too cash-strapped to burn my bras, I didn’t know how to wage my fight...
Enter Wall Street: the most unlikely incubator of anything remotely feminist. During the first few days of my internship at The White House Project, an organization that promotes women’s leadership, the status of women ironically was the last thing on my mind. Instead, I was captivated by the view outside the office—the avenue where the aromas of success and Starbucks mingled and men in power suits traveled in flocks. With coffee in hand and newspaper solidly tucked under my arm, I tried to look like I belonged...
Feeling like an outsider on Wall Street and realizing that other women were worse off gave me the feminist context I sought but didn’t actually want to find. With a new sense of mission, I began to compile theories explaining why women are still on the sidelines...
Asya Troychansky ’07 is a social studies concentrator in Quincy House. She gets a kick out of interning at a feminist non-profit in an area of very-for-profits, and reserves the other “F” word for special occasions...