Using the f-word
By Kerri Huffman
23 February 1998
If I hear another woman say “I’m not a feminist but…” I think I’m going to kick her in the teeth. And you know why, because that statement always ends in “but I want equal pay for equal work,” or “but I want my boyfriend to do the dishes” or “but I think I should be able to fuck whoever I want.” Well, guess what, it looks like you’re a feminist to me.
And lately I have been giving a lot of thought as to how best to respond to the “Are you a feminist?” question. It’s a bothersome, rather politically loaded question. After all, you have to consider who is asking and what their perspective might be. It’s not like asking if I am a woman, because that is basically a non-brainer, unless you are really into gender transgression and, let’s face it, most of us are not.
And so that tricky question involving the f-word haunts us, or at least me. But recently a friend suggested a good way to get around the “Are you a feminist?” question in a rather subversive way. It is “What kind of feminist do you mean?” Ha, ha. I love it. Put the onus back on the asker. This response operates in the spirit of feminism—to challenge preconceived notions of identity, and besides I kinda like to fuck things up.
A post-Olympic lesson
From our figure skating team, no less
By Ray Ortigas
2 March 1998
In the aftermath of the heartbreaking losses suffered by our Olympics men’s and women’s hockey teams, I needed some perspective on the meaning of competition. It didn’t necessarily have to come from hokey, made-for TV stuff, and it didn’t have to involve winning a gold medal. There just had to be something good, something satisfying.
Watching the U of T women’s figure skating team two weekends ago and witnessing their delight in getting a bronze medal at the OUA championships, I certainly got that much-needed perspective…
