 |
| WR Leader Danielle Smith and Premier Alison Redford |
I can disclaim away, citing my revulsion for
male chauvinism, the long line of influential females in my life, my
cheerleading of women’s rights, but it won’t matter, someone will take exception
to my message or my tone—because I’m a man writing about women.
And that’s sort of my point,
see.
For my readers outside the
confines of Alberta, you may have noted that my dear adoptive province recently
had itself an election. It was quite a heated thing, and also one of the more
fascinating we’ve seen in this province in years. Don’t let the result (yet
another Progressive Conservative majority, preserving a forty-one year old dynasty)
belie the drama—it was something to see. The upstart, ultra-conservative Wild
Rose Party under Danielle Smith putting pressure on the incumbent just plain
conservative PC party under new “red Tory” Premier Alison Redford; as well, the also
ran Liberals, NDP, Alberta Party, and (in my riding alone!) Alberta Separatist
Party trying their darndest to show that this province isn’t completely mired
in conservatism. Ineffectively, it seems, especially because so many of those
of us who ideologically lean to the left strategically voted, that is, held our
noses, apologized to our gods, and voted PC for fear of the predications of a
Wild Rose majority entrenching us in such backwards backwoods philosophies that they
would make Stephen Harper giddy with Reformer glee.
Instead, the PCs landed yet
another majority and the Wild Rose were limited to a mere 17 seats, making them
the Official Opposition, but hardly with a vice-like grip on the throat of
Redford’s party. The dust has settled, we look to the future, some of us
wondering just how Ms. Redford will balance her centralist leanings and left
support with the traditional conservatives in her party and in her support base. It remains to be seen.
That’s all back-story. The point
of fact is that we have our first female premier elected in Alberta with the
first female leader of the official opposition. Rah, womanhood!
However, this seems to cause
some to feel that to criticize their politics is to criticize their gender, in
effect implying that because these are female
politicians, this should make them immune to criticism, just as if someone were
to be a politician whose policies we disagree with, but were Muslim or Native
or a person with a disability, they should receive special exception to any
criticisms of said policy (he said, staring at the well-greased slope atop
which he was perched).
Although I am delighted to have
a female premier and a female head of the double O, I see them as politicians
first, women second. Smith has expressed positions on education,
health care, and the environment that I find so disturbing she may be the only
politician I hold in the same elite company of yucky as our current prime minister. Redford, whom I respect much more than her predecessors, and most of
those who she defeated in the PC leadership race, still holds up the tarsands
as the solution to the American energy crisis, still supports the building of
questionable pipelines—she’s still a capitalist conservative, and I ain’t. I am
bothered that my questioning any policies leads in turn to me being questioned for judging
them based on which way they face when they pee.
Analogy: I like Chris Rock, I think he’s
a very funny guy. However, so much of his schtick is “black people.” His humour
involves pointing out that he is black, comparing white people to blacks, and
often the self-deprecation of black people or the send-up of the starched
white. I get tired of that. I like Chris Rock the comedian, and yet it is
required to always provide the qualifier that he is Chris Rock, the black comedian.
So it is apparently going with
feminism. Here we are, a half century after the Women’s Liberation Movement
began, and how much ground have we covered when a man talking critically about
a woman’s ideas (that is, not the fact that she is a woman with ideas) is
called a chauvinist? I mean, what sort of equality have we created when we put
them in special bubbles—does equality not come with the bad as well as the
good? In constantly pointing out that this is a woman premier and a woman
leader of the opposition, are we not, devaluing
them? Are we not enabling those who would see difference as a disability,
rather than vive-ing it?
Analogy: I love hockey, and this year’s
Stanley Cup Playoffs are proving to be one of the most boring set of goonfests
in recent memory. I like finsesse hockey, hockey where capable speedsters weave
their way down the ice in a manner that is almost artistic. I prefer a
beautifully-calculated play over a bone-crushing hit. I enjoy elite women’s
hockey, I have a friend who has represented us on the Women’s Olympic Hockey
Team since the sport was picked up for Nagano. And yet, their game must always be
qualified with “women’s style hockey,” as if it’s something of a lesser sport
because there’s finesse, athleticism, and a much lesser amount of physical play
(though not none). It seems we’re spending as much time providing exceptions as
celebrating difference here.
Because I am a man, I may be
questioned and criticized for exercising my right to question and criticize.
Men commenting on women’s issues are on shaky ground indeed, but perhaps that
itself is part of the issue, that we still keep so much of that territory
segregated by gender (or race, religion, or what have you). I have always
attested that I am a man raised by women, that the female figures in my life
are powerful people who have shaped my thinking and led me to possess
temperaments I don’t see paralleled by some of my male peers. Yet, criticism of
my right to comment persists.
I am interested and a little worried to
see what our new premier does—as premier. Not as a woman. I’m concerned that
our opposition leader will gain support and present ideas to Albertans that I
find threatening—because they’re threatening policies, not because it’s a woman
presenting them. I hope to tune out any commentary on gender influencing
policy, and to simply look at policy alone.
But what do I know? I’m only a
man. (And white, and middle-class, middle-aged . . .)
