Women's Lives

 

Women’s Lib

 Becoming part of the second wave of feminism in the 1970’s was most unexpected. It was a very exciting time for women who wanted to return to work, not have a huge family, or be beholding to men. I joined a group which met in an avid feminist’s home in a small country town, and we discussed all the literature which was important including ‘The Feminine Mystique’. The group consisted mostly of farmers’ wives. We were determined to change our restricted worlds.

 

Unfortunately, the day-to-day reality was not quite so exciting or radical. Several of us were not permitted to get a job off the farm. I had four small children to care for in the days when the men did very little for their children. Even changing a nappy or minding a child for a short time was seen as an imposition. That was the woman’s job. Ironically, I did read all the exciting literature that promised women a life of freedom and a career, but like most of the group it was all to no avail.

 

The meetings were a bright interlude where as women we could also discuss issues of interest in a safe and understanding environment. One of the members of the group wrote for Broadsheet, a national feminist magazine. Borrowing copies from the local library, I avidly devoured them. Strangely, the rest of us never considered putting our thoughts about the difficulties of our farm lives down on paper.

 

Other farm wives struggled to find a place either in the management or daily work on farms. This was viewed as the domain of their husbands and father-in-law. Some women were able to turn to outside employment for relief. Usually this was part time work as it was not well tolerated by long term farming families. Many of the women felt as though they were unwelcome outsiders who were expected to prove themselves to their husband’s family but knew they would never be accepted into the farm ownership structure.

 

Several years later when staying with one of New Zealand’s most well know feminist writers who wrote for Broadsheet, I was introduced to another woman who had been at the forefront of changing the lives of many women in New Zealand. Strangely I never made the connection between the woman I was having lunch with and her writing. When I mentioned her name to my thesis supervisor her jaw dropped; “really, you didn’t realise how well known and respected she is in feminist circles, and you had no idea who she was?” I had to confess to my ignorance.

 

As I transferred from print books to talking books provided by the Blind Foundation,  I met one of my favourite narrators at a women’s studies conference. She was another early second wave of feminism pioneer. I made an instant connection with her. My admiration for New Zealand’s early feminists continued to expand.

When Broadsheet ceased publication in 1997 it left many feminist researchers like myself bereft of local references and significant access to women who could lead us on our journey. Women’s Studies departments at universities throughout New Zealand slowly closed or were reduced in size as the subject was transferred into social science departments. Thankfully this was not before I completed a Master’s degree in Women’s Studies.

 

International Women’s Year in 1975 radicalised many women, but still left most rural women on the margins. Farm and family duties plus a lack of access to money meant many, like me, were unable to attend events which might have begun to free us and grow our feminist thinking. Many husbands felt threatened and older women could not understand the needs and desperation of their younger compatriots to have access to basic rights and freedoms, a real life of their own. Our feminist reading and research relied on the use of libraries or books lent to us by other women. Without the use of the internet and modern research tools this often-restricted access to the most up-to date tracts. Frequently we did not have enough personal spending money to buy books from the Women’s Bookshops. 

 

The United Women’s Convention held in Hamilton in 1979 followed one in 1977 in Christchurch. Attendance numbers expanded exponentially, 2500 women gathered together to share knowledge. The conventions were a key part of the second wave of feminism in this country and led to challenges on a highly political level.  Unfortunately the Hamilton convention became the site of conflict and factional infighting which did the movement few favours. This meant no one had the heart or energy to organise another convention.

 

Many women continued to be ensconced in an outdated era where women had to ask the permission of their husband to have surgery, enrol at university, and were usually not welcome at important meetings with banks or accountants. They could not have their own credit card or bank account. A large number of us were forced to become ‘undercover’ feminists. Usually we did not mention our interest in improving the role of women. Our supposedly ‘radical’ thoughts meant we were often not popular with spouses and their family. Decisions had to be made without telling anyone of our intentions.

 

After I enrolled as an extramural student to study sociology, I met other women who were threatened by their spouses that they would stop them studying if they so chose. Then I discovered the Women’s Studies department. A whole new world presented itself as I took my initial Women’s Lib meetings into the academic sphere. Learning about the suffragettes, Mary Wollstonecraft and other early feminists was enlightening. Adding further relevant papers including philosophy seemed a natural progression. Others in the classes, we only met once a year, were also stumbling along trying to bridge the gap between their 1950’s upbringing and the ever-expanding lives of our younger compatriots.

It was a joy to research and write essays that turned our proscribed worlds upside down. Achieving good marks for a postgraduate diploma in Women’s Studies, a Master’s degree in Philosophy focusing on feminist post-modern thinking and disability was the next progression. Theory became reality as I interviewed other rural women living with a disability. Yet, despite this fervor for academic research, life on a personal level was still very much under male control. When leaving my marriage I commented to my supervisor how could I possibly be so involved in feminist research yet my own life did not reflect what I now believed in. Her comment surprised me when she said many of her students were in the same position and studying feminism, often for decades as I had, still had not improved their own lives.

 

Today feminism has taken a quieter role as much of what it attempted to change has occurred. Our daughters and granddaughters cannot imagine we never experienced the rights and freedoms they consider normal. They can now say no in many scenarios, have equal parenting rights, can choose a full-time career, and manage their own finances. Women are able to choose what to wear without having to ask for approval, go on holiday alone or with friends, and make the choice when to have children, or not. Do the young of today ever give thought to the efforts of the early suffragettes, or the women in the 1960’s and 1970’s who took up the cudgels for their futures in the second wave of feminism. Living lives so far removed from those of us who met in a private home in the 1970’s to discuss our role as wives, mothers, and what we knew we lacked in our regimented lives does not enter their orbit. It is such a pleasure to see men minding children, and enjoying their parenting role. Women are breaking the glass ceiling, and children are growing up with freedoms we had some small part in achieving for them. It begs the question, am I still a feminist as age and a life journey has intervened. Most definitely yes.