Written by Rebekah Willson
Academic life is so often filled with meetings and general
bureaucratic frustrations that it was a great pleasure to sit in a room with
other academics and hear about new scholarship and ideas. On 30 January 2019, Strathclyde
University Feminist Research Network hosted Dr
Vikki Turbine from the University of Glasgow, who give a talk
entitled “First generation feminist? Autoethnographic reflections on politicisation
and finding a home with feminism”.
At first glance, Vikki’s talk was personal – her memories
and stories from different periods of her life, illustrated through song titles
and personal photos. However, her talk went far beyond the personal, using
systematic methodologies to reflect on her own memories and tell her own
stories to more fully explore the place of feminism in the academy. I was lucky
enough to be asked to be the discussant for the talk and looking at Vikki’s
work, blog and then
hearing the talk made me think more specifically about my own understanding of feminism
within academia and what feminism can offer the academy.
I want to focus on the latter point. I see feminism as one
of the forces that is making room in the academy – room for new voices, new
people, new ways of understanding, new knowledges. It creates space to talk
about people and their lives not in a self-indulgent way, but in a way that
acknowledges people and their experiences, providing opportunities to learn
from the process of self-reflexivity – all with the view to create change. Feminism
has been an agent that has pushed for the inclusion of new research methods and
theories. I think about my own positivist, quantitative training in my
undergraduate degree in psychology. Discovering in my PhD that not only could
I, as the researcher, be a part of the research but that I must be an
acknowledged and considered part of the research process, was revolutionary.
That the researcher is a key part of the research and that, rather than adding
bias, the inclusion of the researcher makes the research stronger. Part of this
strength is through the inclusion of both researcher and participant perspectives
on and understandings of the world.
As discussant, when I got up to reflect on Vikki’s talk, I
talked about feminist research methods and seeing feminist ideals being played
out in the academy. However, the vast majority of audience members who asked
questions after Vikki’s talk spoke about class – particularly about how
academics from working-class backgrounds negotiate their class identity. As a
Canadian (and, full disclosure, white, English speaking, middle class), my
experience with and understanding of class is very different. Class in Canada
is less entrenched and more fluid. However, because it is not as established,
it is often ignored altogether. Growing up comfortably middle class (everyone
I knew ate olives) I have not engaged with class in the same way I
have with feminism. And there is my class privilege showing. The question period
highlighted for me once again the need for me to listen to – and learn about –
the experiences of others to expand my thinking. The voice of the individual –
particularly those who are marginalised – is important to the feminism to which
I subscribe. So, as these women spoke, I shut up and listened.
Recognising that I don’t know and that I need to educate
myself about issues such as class is the gift and the burden of feminism. The
push to be reflexive and to constantly stretch your understanding and thinking
is challenging, but it is also spurs you on to be a better person, colleague,
and academic. And it’s on this point this I want to end. When I started writing
this blog, I thought I would concentrate more on feminist research
methodologies and the ways in which engaging in feminist scholarship seeks to
lay bare the processes behind research. I thought I would critique the
treatment of research as a straightforward, clear-cut process, which fails to
acknowledge the challenges – the false starts, the mess, the mistakes – that
are a part of scholarship, a failure that reduces research to a set of steps
and hampers the learning of young researchers. What I want to talk about is
seeing feminism in action in the academy.
I see feminist
academics pushing back against the idea that researchers must be objective
and remove themselves from their research. I see feminist academics enacting
their feminism through acknowledging and valuing the
perspectives of others – by listening, by making visible others’
experiences, by being kind. I see feminist academics supporting and encouraging
other women (though not just women) in their work. This is not feminist
academics simply being “nice” or acting as helpful handmaidens. This is
feminist academics addressing inequalities in practical and helpful ways. This
is feminists living their feminism. And while there is kindness and
helpfulness, there is also anger. As
Vikki discussed, feminism provides a space to experience anger, as well as to
legitimise it. Anger at injustice is logical and there is no need to “get over
it.” Inequality in academia remains, particularly at a structural level. It
reduces us to “less than”; it seeks to dismiss our work. And we should be angry
about this. But I remind myself that whilst I am angry, I can use that anger
for good purpose. Not only do I want to use it to seek out ways to change the
system that replicates and sustains inequalities, but I also want to use it to
help me keep perspective. I want to use anger to focus my attention on the kind
of feminist academic I want to be and to act accordingly – by listening, by
being kind, by giving voice, by remaining angry at persistent
inequalities.
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