Feminism and Consumerism: Conjoined Twins?

Feminism is a complicated issue for me, and while I consider myself one on a fundamental level (ie, I believe that women and men are equally human and, as such, both deserving of their equal individual, political, and legal rights), I haven't always approved of what many in our culture consider to be feminism in practice.

Recently, however, I read The Way We Never Were: American Families and Nostalgia Trap by Stephanie Coontz, which finally clarified something for me. Namely, that it is once again consumerism that I disapprove of--and that consumerism has infected our idea of feminism to the point that it makes it hard for people (women? Can men be feminists too? I think they can--how many would admit to being such is another question) like me to identify with the current conceptualization of "feminism."

I should back up here and state that I do not believe feminism to be a set of actions to check off on some magic to-do list: going out and getting a degree does not make you a feminist. Not even becoming the first female president of the United States makes you a feminist. Feminism is also a lifestyle and a set of core values. Feminism should be ethical. To put it plainly, feminism is NOT just advancing yourself as a woman. It is not just pursuing your own personal ambitions. I believe this would be a male-centric value (please don't mistake me here--I'm not saying men are in any way bad or evil--I am classifying greater culture behaviors based on a male-centered culture--not on any individual male. I love men--heck, I'm married to one and have given birth to one! I have a great relationship with my dad and several of my good friends are males. I do not dislike men). If one is truly to call herself a feminist--that is, one who believes in the social, political, educational advancement of women--one helps to advance other women, and girls, and even boys and men--why? Because feminism revolves around equality and being fair.

I should also back up even further and say that I do not believe feminism revolves around imitating male behaviors and traits, ie, a reduction of womanhood to the practice of monkeying men. I suppose this would get me into some trouble with would-be critics (were anyone actually reading my little blog) because it could be interpreted as separate-but-equal ideology--and we all know to what extent that was a sham when it came to racial equality in the U.S. A closer analysis, however, would reveal that equality does not necessarily equal sameness. Just as we have diversity between people in the US when it comes to ethnicity, religion, and culture, we can have diversity when it comes to sexuality yet still have equality.

But the above two sticking points for me stem from the mixing of consumerist and feminist precepts--ie, that women should be as free as men to consume to their hearts' desires--not just in the domestic realm. That women should be equally free to pursue wealth and ideals of individuality--also a pillar of a consumer culture. Coontz brings up the point that ever-increasing fragmentation and hyper-individualism is the logical conclusion of consumerism. We see this in the fact that children are becoming "target audiences" at younger and younger ages--being told that they can best create their images through purchases. The idea that women "should" pursue a career and work right through child rearing is often pressed upon them not in order to make them into fulfilled, well-balanced individuals, but to make them into targets for products, images, and lifestyles--not just as individuals, but as moms as well, in order to give their children the "best" objects and amenities on the market.

This ideology strikes me amoral on several levels, not least of which is the fact, as Coontz points out, that working conditions, schedules, and locations are not female- or family-friendly. It's the "do it all" syndrome I addressed (on a societal level) a few posts back. Women are expected to be men in the workplace and this is actually the opposite of equality--it puts women at a disadvantage and on an unlevel playing field. But women, told that they can indeed be equal to men if they just work harder, sleep less, and be smarter, feel pressure to be "just as good if not better." All this--often, not always--to serve the almight bottom line, the household dollar, in a never-ending pursuit of "the next-best thing" and "keeping up with the Jonses."

Furthering the immoral cycle in my mind is the question, "what about the other best things?" You know, the ones like having a parent available to be there and raise you--one who's not stressed out and always rushing. A parent who helps you achieve your dreams and meet your needs, not the other way around. A parent who takes you to story time and the park during the day. A parent who listens, not hyper-schedules you to keep you busy. What about those other best things, like food that doesn't come out of a box, or being at home when you want to be, instead of shuttled off to a group situation all day? I'm not saying it's necessarily wrong to be a dual-earning couple, but what I am saying is that there's something to be said for the things money can't buy. Seriously, would my kid rather have a trip to Disney World, or would he rather have me or my husband fully engaged with him every day? Would he rather have a TV in his room to be sat in front of while I microwave dinner, or would he rather help me make dinner? Would he rather be taught discipline and values from institutions or from his parents? Would he rather be allowed to explore his individuality within the pace of everyday family life, or within the bounds of structured "creative" activities?

I believe consumerist societies, cultures, pursuits, and values ultimately lead nowhere, and are self-destructive. I guess I can feel more comfortable thinking of myself as a feminist now that I have more understanding of where "the movement" dead-ended. For awhile I was wondering, "how can I call myself a feminist if I'm a full-time mom?" But it wasn't feminism that I rejected when I opted to stay home with my son. It was consumerism. I refused to march off to something I didn't believe in under the guise of a corrupted, politically correct -ism. But that's just me. Do I think all dual-income couples with kids are pursuing a materialistic lifestyle? No--my point is that our culture has become locked into a cycle of individual pursuits and purchases, which Coontz shows is not necessarily conduicive to family or community life--or even marriage. I have a post-graduate career (or lack of one!) that I can put on hold, so I am lucky to be able to stay at home with my son for now. I can't possibly say all women should stay home from work when they have children--it's not practical or ethical , let alone feminist. But dads can opt to be full-time parents too...true feminism would approve.

And the Sins of the Fathers...

The intangible inheritance parents pass on to their children is the earliest impression of God’s character. Unfair as it may be, as big of a responsibility it is, children learn about God from the way their parents treat them—it’s no coincidence that we often perceive God as a father or mother figure. In the early years, parents are their children’s creators, providers, nurturers, caretakers, and teachers. Parents can give or take away. Their word is (usually) law and their pronouncements are judgments and decrees. Parents can be unfair and mysterious to a child, with ways that are unknown (“because I said so, and I am [God]. Who are you to question?”).

As a young child, your parent pretty much IS God—your primary example of love and relationship. The loving aspects of parenthood are a tiny slice of God’s perfect parenthood. The selfish, fallen aspects are the mark of our human, earthly status.

It took me a very long time to realize how my upbringing was reflected in my relationship with God. Having very critical, unpredictable parents made me perceive a God that was judgmental and unpredictably loving. A God who thought I wasn’t good enough—a capricious and whimsical God. This image of God was dysfunctional, and for years caused me to doubt and distrust God’s nature.

If we take a good look at how we view God, we often find that the picture was influenced by some of our earliest childhood experiences. Maybe for some of us, it felt like God was never around or emotionally unavailable. Maybe we couldn’t live up to his larger-than-life personality or expectations; maybe we never felt good enough. Maybe God was cold and distant, uncaring or selfish—maybe a user…maybe unreliable, egotistical, arrogant, hypocritical.

Only after I became a parent myself did I realize how God might really see me and How He might really Be. First of all, my son is not “perfect,” just as we are not perfect in the eyes of God. He was born with a single ventricle heart. But this does not mean I love my son any less. Indeed, children with special needs are called “special” for a reason. I won’t go so far as to say that “heart parents” love their children more than “normal parents” (after all, I wouldn’t know for sure)—but almost. I’ll stop just short of saying that. My son was born with a defect, as we are all born with the defect of original sin. I think God wants to see us succeed in our spiritual journeys all the more because of our human disadvantage.

Secondly, the life our son is living is not the life we had planned for him, much like God’s original plan for humankind is not what we are all living now. Our original plan for our son was an idyllic babyhood filled with swim classes at the YMCA, baby yoga, and travel—not open-heart surgeries, long hospital stays, and countless medical procedures. Am I disappointed in the situation? Yes. Am I disappointed in my son? No. My son's life is filled with a lot more pain and suffering than I would have ever wanted. Now I understand some of the pain God must feel at our human suffering.

Parents see their children as their most perfect creations. Parents take pride in their scrawny, puny newborns and in their eyes, these newborns are the cutest to ever grace the universe. As our children grow older, we set rules for them that they don’t always understand. Sometimes we become frustrated, angry, or hurt when they are ungrateful or when they disobey us. But we always forgive them when they truly repent, no matter how grave the offense.

So where does this “punish the children for the sins of their fathers” idea come from? Deuteronomy 5:9-10: “I do not leave unpunished the sins of those who hate me, but I punish the children for the sins of their parents to the third and fourth generations. But I lavish my love on those who love me and obey my commands, even for a thousand generations.” I’m not a reverend, but my layperson interpretation of these 2 verses is that love is the greater force here—a force that sets us free from the examples of previous generations.

Maybe what God meant was not that He would exact punishment for its own sake on a sinner’s children, but that repeating the mistakes of one’s parents is punishment enough, and is the intangible inheritance of a human primary example. It is a warning to parents that history repeats itself, and can put subsequent generations at considerable disadvantage. Indeed, to overcome the sins of one’s father or mother, it takes conscious realization, supplication, and a little divine intervention. One of my good friends mentioned years ago that only God could break the patterns families can fall into and pass down through generations, and that we need to consciously ask God to shatter the chains that tie us to our forefathers. It can be something as serious as alcoholism, abuse, depression, and abandonment to more oblique family attributes like disapproval, pride, or sanctimoniousness. Take a good look at what you’ve inherited from your family—then ask God to set you free.