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"Imposter Syndrome

I have always been challenged by the same imposter syndrome problem: is it paternalistic or chauvinist for a man to be a part of the feminist movement? Or, in other words, can men truly be feminists? Now, there’s plenty of literature on this subject that argues both sides: yes and no. But, I think the answer is not so binary as it appears. 

 

In the second semester of my first year at Michigan (my junior year) I was enrolled in POLISCI 401 which was a course about feminist political theory. Before formally enrolling into the course, I remember contemplating whether or not I should actually enroll in the first place. I was unsure if I had anything to contribute in that space. 

 

I mean, the whole point of transferring to Michigan was so that I could take more Feminist and Queer political theory courses. But at the time I asked myself, how could a man ever contribute towards dismantling the patriarchy? 

 

In the end, I did enroll; though, I did so with caution. 

On the first day of class, my professor came in, ready to tackle what would seem to be the topics of the course. In actuality, she explained our shared position and what we were trying to achieve. She wasn’t explaining “learning goals” or anything bureaucratic like that. She was revealing to us what could be accomplished through our work and what was at stake. We weren’t reading old dusty books off the shelf for shits and giggles; we were learning how to see, and how to speak the language and theories of, our own subjugation.   

 

Throughout the semester, my professor and I became more familiar with each other in an office hours appointment about one of my papers that I was going to write. Digressing as I usually do, I told her about my ambiguity towards the field. I told her that, though I very much wanted to continue learning about the field, I also felt that I had nothing to contribute.

How could a man ever contribute towards dismantling the patriarchy?

Now, she could have told me straight up that, yes, I don’t have anything to contribute to the field, and that I should perhaps pursue something else. She could have said, yes, men can truly never be feminists because their psychology is wired to oppose women. Or she could have said, yes, men will always defend their own lot and they will never abdicate their own power, willingly. 

Though, to my luck, she didn’t say any of those things. Instead, she asked me what my purpose for enrolling in the course was. Being stunned by the question, I told her about my transferring from Wayne State so that I could access more Feminist and Queer political theory. She told me, yes, she understands but why? I responded saying that because I love learning about these things, and I wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. 

 

She smiled, and then said, “Don’t you see? You’re doing it now. If your intentions are pure and you seek to learn about these things, then you’re already contributing.” She explained that what we’re up against cannot be beaten through gate keeping the experiences of those who have genuine admiration towards the field-- those who seek to learn. 

Although I still doubt myself from time to time, I gained a small amount of confidence that day to continue on. From then on out, I would carry with me the spirit of my mission, still conscious of my implicit biases and subjective experiences.  

At night I cross the road if I am walking behind someone who appears Fem. When listening to others, I try to actively listen and not to interrupt (though the golden retriever in me wants very much to be expressive). And, when I am in class I try to stick up for those who I am fighting alongside.

On the last day of this course, we discussed the Aziz Ansari controversy. I’m not going to explain what happened, first because it's a gross story and two because you really should go find out for yourself if you are interested. 

Anyhow, towards the end of the discussion my professor asked the class our personal feelings about the situation. Whiplash. It turned South very quickly. Some ass-hole kid, one of the few other masculine presenting people in the class, declared that his guy friends would feel absolutely terrible if they unknowingly harassed or assaulted a girl. Another guy chimed in, agreeing with the former. They had some kind of boys-club thing going on: affirming and reaffirming their benevolence towards women. 

 

The girl next to me clenched her fist, and I felt the anger radiating off her skin. My professor smiled, knowing what was going to happen next. 

 

Put a man who defends the boys-club in a feminist theory course, full of fem and queer-folk-- and see what happens… 

 

I remember thinking for a second whether or not I should open my mouth. As a masculine presenting person you would think the onus might be on me to refute that boys-club bull-shit. But I waited for someone else to say something. They did not. And so, I did open my mouth.

“Do you think they would feel bad because they hurt someone? Or do you think they would feel bad because they might face negative consequences?” 

 

His face turned red.

 

“I must be hanging out with better guys than you.”

I smiled.

“The guys I hang out with aren’t into women.”

The clock struck 2:50pm. Time to leave and go to the next course. 

And the class ended on that. We were over time, and my Professor announced that she appreciated having us in her course, and that she wished us the best on our future journeys.

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