What ARE You?

What ARE You? How I practiced feminism before I knew what the term meant.

My own experience as a female living in a world where society wants to label me to fit
within a box is something I continue to struggle with. I would like to be more confident in my
own identity, but something about explaining to people why I believe in what I believe in is also
very exhausting, sometimes because my identity is often very fluid. I relate to the strong, female role of my mother and Latina roots of
my father’s side of the family, but my presumed whiteness allows me to flow into white spaces unseen.

I relate to the powerfulness and powerlessness of being a woman
more and more everyday.

My parents both worked one to two jobs to make ends meet, and we rented a small house,
barely making do, unlike most of our neighbors. But, from the outside, we were no different than
them. My friends and I participated in the same extra curricular activities the school and
community provided, such as: soccer, track, cross-country, girl scouts, dance, band, cooking, etc.
I was “allowed” to play male dominated sports (e.g. hockey, baseball, etc.) recreationally with
the kids in my neighborhood, but was banned from playing league sports (e.g. little league) deemed only appropriate for boys, with the common phrase “girls can’t play.”

So, I put up a fight and refused to play league sports that were “only for girls” and made sure to put in my best effort when playing on the street with the neighborhood kids or during physical education at school.

I grew up being told from a young age that I could not do everything my not so much
older brother was able to do, although I could be anything I wanted to be. No, you can’t play baseball - softball is for girls.

No, you can’t go out with your friends - it’s not safe for girls to be out at night. Why don’t you wear more dresses, don’t cut your hair too short, stop putting your hair in a pony - wear it down. Blah! What is society’s issue with deciding what is feminine and what is not? This very critique stays with me from childhood: How to dress, act, or just be is dictated by what I may be trying to portray to the outside world. When in fact, what I am portraying to the outside world is not ever meant to be for the outside world.

I do what I do for me, my pleasure, my comfort, my feelings, for that moment, not intending to define who I am.

I am often asked, “What are you?” which I assume is people asking me what I identify with. My answer always varies depending on my level of sarcasm that day: human, woman, Latina - but, no I don’t speak Spanish, not fluently anyway - due to the structural violence of schools demanding English only.

mother, health coach, school psychologist, student, sister, daughter, friend, advocate, feminist...should I go on? I don’t. I started in my doctorate program knowing that I wanted to learn all that I could about the atrocities going on in the world and how to be someone to help make sure these atrocities do not repeat themselves, to spread awareness, to be an ally. My experiences of identifying who I am and what I believe in has been much more beneficial to me in order to prepare myself for doing the work I do with youth in San Francisco, as a friend, a global citizen, and now as a mom. Little did I know that as a little girl fighting for equality in playing sports, like baseball instead of softball, and as I came up with answers to “what are you?” I was “living and acting in feminist resistance without ever using the word ‘feminism’ (Hooks, 1994).” When Sarah Ahmed discussed the "What are you?" phrase in her book, Living A Feminist Life,  these memories and stories of growing up a Tomboy flooded through my head. Memories of people asking me what I am came flooding in. People wanting me to define myself for their own curiosity. 

I feel much more confident and freer, not realizing how restricted I felt prior. I have
stronger opinions, a wider open mindset, and the ability to shift my perspective. I have more
knowledge about the importance of women’s rights. I can never go back to that ignorant person who forgot about the small girl who was not allowed to play baseball and how the experience made me follow through on everything I put my mind to.

 I feel privileged to have the space where discussing our personal lives and experiences is just as enriching as the academic journal articles and books we read. In that, my personal experiences from childhood through my life in San Francisco, along
with the ability to explicitly talk about it or write it on paper, or in this case type it, is a
transformation that is truly liberating.

When did you realize how childhood memories you may have forgotten about has shaped you to be the person you are today?

<3 Ash