I think of the Me Too movement, for starters. Look back over the past two years what stands out? After all, these men are my brothers in Christ. And worst of all, I’m definitely not living out a Christian ethic of compassion. Maybe I’m being dramatic and hysterical while proving the stereotype true. Perhaps I, a relatively privileged white woman, am diminishing the agony of those women who have suffered horrible injustice at the hands of men. Hate is wrong, and maybe I’m cheapening the term with my use of it. I love men.īut then 2018 happened, full of offenses and injustices both public and deeply personal, and now. Many of us were raised by men, married men, and are raising men of our own. How ridiculous and unfair it is to claim that the sexes are locked in a zero-sum game, where the rise of one must entail the fall of the other. To work for the equal treatment of women is not to hate men. After becoming a feminist, I labored and exhausted myself to refute this absurd accusation. That term that has often been used to describe feminists: “those man-hating feminazis.” Long before I considered myself a feminist, I believed the caricature.
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