Funny how some numbers get preferential treatment. Tucked away on the business pages of newspapers this week was a big one: the number of unemployed women in the UK is now the highest since 1988. This is business alright. This should be EVERYONE’S business, and ought to inspire shame, outrage, and a serious fight.
Last weekend at the UK Feminista Summer School people from across the country discussed the ways in which women, particularly single mothers and black and minority ethnic women, will be forced to the edge of survival by the spending cuts.
Thanks to the tireless efforts of organizations like the Fawcett Society, the statistics couldn’t be clearer – or more devastating. So what do we do about it?
Feminist activists are spoilt for choice in terms of where to direct their action. The battle-lines of feminism today are less defined, and in some ways trickier to navigate, than those that kept our great-grandmothers in the kitchen and our grandmothers out of university.
We are the frontline of feminism every day: when we politely but firmly tell our colleagues not to substitute our name with “gorgeous;” when we remove the scales from our bathrooms, wear what we want to and encourage others to do the same; when we take pride and feel supported in childcare whether we have a vagina or not.
But where is the feminist frontline of the anti-cuts movement?
The cuts are an opportunity to talk about feminism in concrete terms, in terms that don’t for a second entertain the done-to-death conservative mythology of bra-burning and man-hating. This is about women deciding between feeding their kids and buying petrol so they can get to work. This is about women trying to manage financially unmanageable households when their partners lose their jobs.
We realise now, as we fight for basic childcare that allowed our mothers the choice to build lives outside of the home, and for the legal aid and safe houses that have lifted abused women from danger, how lucky we are to be able to debate nuances of modern feminism.
It is now up to us to remind people that the public sector workers we mention when we talk about job losses are mostly women. That the charities losing, in some cases, 100% of their funding, provide services that literally save women’s lives.
The first half of this year has seen some action, including a group of women blocking George Osborne from delivering his budget and a feminist bank “bail-in”. Watching mothers, fathers, women and men who would usually be doing their Saturday shopping file into a branch of Natwest to sing songs, read books, and share snacks was a moment of hope. The presence of children did not merely make for an irresistible photo opportunity and decrease the likelihood of arrest. It signified that this is a fight for our future, not a fringe issue.
No union, well-meaning NGO or politician will fight this for us. George Osborne didn’t even seem particularly perturbed by the fact that he broke the law in failing to carry out a gender impact assessment of the spending budget. The government isn’t running scared – as it should be – because, frankly, we haven’t given it any reason to.
There are no holdout hippies standing naked in front of Parliament. There are no furious mothers breastfeeding their children in the middle of Oxford Street. There are no "carried-away" separatists hurling bricks through the windows of patriarchal (read: all) institutions. There are no misguided rioters to publically condemn but privately thank for finally, FINALLY, putting this issue squarely on the front pages of every newspaper in the country. There are no suffragettes.
The ideas and energy at the UK Feminista weekend allowed us to feel fired up rather than helpless in the face of impending social crisis. Fear of arrest was voiced frequently and understandably. As Fortnum and Masons defendants, we can attest to the fact that we need to be vigilant of political policing and the treatment of women in police stations as they are refused tampons and targeted for verbal abuse by female and male officers alike. We must look after each other, but we must not be stopped.
When we are told to shut up and be thankful we are not in Libya, we will say we refuse to let our daughters fight for rights we took for granted. When we are told we are naïve, we will say we are not fighting for privilege, but for common-sense human entitlements.
When we are told that our issue is not an important one, we will ask how society can be expected to survive when those who create, nurture, and sustain it are forgotten. And when all is said, we’ll let our action do the talking.