Are we Equal Enough?

Holding the tension of gratitude in one hand and a pursuit of better in the other

This week I’d like to muse over a question I don’t really have an answer to, but one that I think about often. I should probably warn you; my question leads to some rambling that would receive a rating at least PG13, so readers beware.

For any equality battle there is this unfortunate and nuanced dance of pushing for rights while seeking not exhaust those being asked to give up power. With that in mind, my question is, when do we settle on being “close enough” to equality? This question could apply to any minority or vulnerable group but I’m speaking of women who, in Canada appear to largely have equality. At times I hear we’ve surpassed equality, where DEI efforts give preference to a woman over a white male in the workplace. Or when the Berenstein Bears constantly portray a put together, organized mother contrasting with her bumbling, oft learning-through-error spouse. However, the examples of gender inequality more frequently hurt women, and it seems to me that the journey of equality in the west is three steps forward, and one step back, then two steps back, and one step forward. It might average out in favour of progression, but the gains are slow, and the setbacks can be severe. And while that may sound like an overstatement, please stay with me while I explain.

I have encountered plenty of stories of the horrors of gender inequality that induce gratitude for the immense advantage of being born female in Canada post feminist movements, suffrage, and other gains in equal rights. History provides enough tales of trials to prove my independent, career minded personality is a better fit for today. Stories from around the world have a similar effect, as do my experiences with other cultures in my hometown.

In my nursing work I have intensely vulnerable conversations with women. In the past couple weeks, I’ve provided care to several women who have experiences female genital mutilation, or female circumcision as some know it. A young woman in a hijab looks me in the eye and says this is normal for her culture and religion and then turns my stomach and heart as she recounts her experience. She was just 8 or 9, she didn’t know it was planned until the woman came. It took 3 women, including her own mother, to hold her down while they cut and stitched her without any anesthetic or pain control. She shudders and tells me it was awful. I’m at a loss empathizing with her while trying to find a delicate balance of renouncing the practice while respecting her religious beliefs. She’s taught to believe this makes her clean and worthy, and yet I’ve spoken with many women on the other side who mourn their complications and inability to enjoy sex with their husbands. The practice is becoming less popular, but it is still happening, even in Canadian homes.

Of similar impact, I just finished a book that walked me through the demoralizing experience of women in Afghanistan, before the Taliban took over and made it much, much worse. For many, the sole purpose of a woman is to bear children, well to bear boys. Her primary source of honour, nearly her only source, is her uterus, and her body’s ability to somehow, magically, kill off the female sperm of her husband to allow the male chromosome carrying swimmers to produce heirs. The value of a girl only comes from the financial benefit of her position as chattel, a bride price. The more desperate the situation, the earlier in her life this transaction occurs. A woman is often the property of her father until she is property of her husband with little personal identity or purpose. And if she doesn’t deal with the marriage in a submissive and “appropriate way” her husband can beat her or rape her. Divorce is rare, never instigated by the woman, and hardly ever an improvement in her situation.

Again, these stories do make me grateful for my freedom, autonomy, choice, and intact body parts. But it doesn’t mean I don’t see problems that still cause disproportionate difficulties for women in Canada. So do I accept that better than horrible is good enough? I can’t. I think back to my read of Martin Luther King Jr.’s life. He expressed similar sentiment when he was told that things were “equal enough,” particularly in the North. For MLK, it wasn’t enough until it was true equality.

Examples of continued inequality range from minor inconveniences to major problems. Take last names. The pressure for a woman to take her husband’s last name remains strong. If he takes hers, it’s considered some significant act of manly confidence, or a lack of manliness depending on the audience. But the implications of taking a new name are rarely considered. Unlike the Biblical call for the man to leave and cleave, the woman ties her identity to his family and does her job to carry on his family name. There are whiffs of the Afghan story in that. The woman known by one name in childhood is lost to anyone who doesn’t know her married name. Carolyn Slomp is no more. I did make a strong pitch for combining Wadsworth and Slomp into the glorious surname of “Womp” so my husband could share in the pain of a name change. Think of the character development of our children and the need to take life less seriously with such a name! Alas, I lost that fight, much to my children’s relief.

Other examples can be more weighty. In my blue-collar town men have significantly more opportunities to gain high-paying employment than women do. While a few women have managed to break into stereotypical male jobs, any woman who carries the dual role of mother cannot manage the flexibility required to earn the 6-figure salary of an oil and gas employee who can travel at will. Few of my male clients struggle to find work, many women do, and when they do find a job with suitable hours, they make little more than minimum wage.

Or how about a more extreme and widespread example. In my work in the sexual health world, I’m keenly aware of how gender differences play out in the sex lives of my clients. There’s a growing, mainstream awareness that pornography is disproportionately hurting women. The rates of violence and assault portrayed against women in pornography are distressing. What’s worse, the ubiquitous use of pornography has led to a rapid increase in violent sex, called “rough sex” that has normalized choking, smothering, hitting, and name calling during an act that is meant to express love and connection. Not surprisingly, the violence is mostly directed at women, followed closely by gender diverse. If rough sex is so wonderful, why aren’t men asking to be the recipients? How is it, truly, that we in the “progressive west” have normalized and glorified violent sex towards women? Like I said, two giant leaps backward.

So, what do I do with this? How do I hold onto the tension of gratitude for the equality and privilege I have while still pushing true equity and fairness? How do I frame my pursuit of better treatment for women without coming across as bitter or ungrateful for both the advantages I enjoy and the wonderful men in my life who treat me well while maintaining openness to learn more? Like I said, these are musing I don’t have good answers to. I’m just going to trust that there are gracious and wise individuals who have gone before me, who have asked the same questions, and who have hopefully written books available in my local library.