The case for autonomy

I have a lot of people ask me why women’s collective and the women’s room are only for women. Often these people are supportive and enthusiastic men who describe themselves as feminists; sometimes they are women who believe their male feminist friend should be able to come to meetings with them.

Firstly, there is often some confusion about who the category of ‘women’ includes. Let me say that the women’s room and women’s collective are open to all those who identify as a woman or have lived experience as a woman. If that definition is still too vague, feel free to contact Emily or myself at any time.

Women’s collective is only for women because it is autonomous. Autonomous (in this context) means decisions affecting women should be made exclusively by women. Throughout history, decisions that directly affect women have been made by men. Autonomy is a conscious effort to give women back the power to make decisions that affect them. While men may care deeply about these issues, some issues will not affect them in ways that they would affect women.

What should also be noted here is that The Women's Collective has historically been responsible for pre-selecting the next year's women's officers. This important tradition has always been respected by the (thankfully progressive) SRC council, who, constitutionally, have the opportunity to not respect this tradition. This tradition has been important in maintaining a strong women's activist culture on campus as women are directly responsible for deciding who will represent them. 

Women’s collective is also only for women because differing socialisations mean that some women can be hesitant to fully participate in political discussions. Women’s collective allows women to come to a safe and respectful space and share their views, which can then be expressed collectively. This system takes the pressure off women, who would otherwise not participate in decision making processes at university (or anywhere). It is important to make sure that all women’s voices are heard about issues that affect them, without making them engage in situations which make them feel vulnerable.

Another reason women’s collective is autonomous is because alot of the issues we discuss are highly sensitive. We may discuss reproductive rights and bodily autonomy, sexual assault and harassment or gender based violence. Many women may have experienced these issues and often don’t feel comfortable discussing them in front of men.

The women’s room also serves as a space for mothers to come and breastfeed. Mothers are still subject to shaming from society for breastfeeding, and as a result may feel more comfortable breastfeeding in a quiet space that is guaranteed not to be judgemental. Further to that, since primary caring responsibilities still fall to women, it provides a safe room for mothers to spend time with and look after their babies or children if they need to take them to university.

Despite women’s collective being autonomous, there are still ways men can participate in and positively contribute to women’s activism and feminism. The USU Clubs and Societies program has a non-autonomous feminist society; the Women’s collective regularly puts on non-autonomous events, or men could simply take instruction from Kelly Temple (NUS UK): “Men who want to be feminists do not need to be given a space in feminism. They need to take the space they have in society & make it feminist.”.

As always, please get in contact with us at any time through our email: usydwomenscollective@gmail.com or visit women’s collective on Wednesdays at 1pm in the Women’s room!

Hannah Smith

Now You See Misogyny – Bridget Harilaou

**SPOILERS**

I recently watched the French-American film ‘Now You See Me’ directed by Louis Leterrier, which delves into the world of stage magic while intertwining high-speed car chases, balloon animals and an overarching revenge plot. It spans across several film categories: thriller, action, comedy, but there were enough niggling little annoyances to get me thinking. Its downfall begins with the overwhelming cast of straight white males, with a token man of colour as a secondary antagonist. But by far most disturbing were the portrayals of the two female characters, who were of course straight and white. I’ll be focusing on the character of Henley Reeves (Isla Fisher), in a self-indulgent critique of Hollywood’s misogyny, which I feel might have been overlooked in this film.

With an opening image that is overtly sexualised, Henley Reeves is immediately identified as FEEEEMMMAAAALLLLEEEE, complete with a sparkling leotard and sexist joke, “Every girl needs a pair of handcuffs,” (with a wink for good measure). This was an immediate turn off. Really? A sexually subordinate joke directly related to her identity as a woman to kick everything off? Unfortunately for Henley, it doesn’t get better.

Her first encounter with another main cast member, J. Daniel Atlas (Jesse Eisenberg), blaringly screams that her weight is obviously a point of contention. How could it not be? I mean, she’s a woman. Duh. J. Daniel’s immediate barrage of insults results in her exclaiming that, “No one could fit through that trap door!” As her ex-boss, J. Daniel immediately compares her to an unshown superior magician’s assistant, “Rebecca fit through the trap door.”

Everyone knows this girl. She’s always thinner, infinitely better and entirely preferable over you. But as exemplified in the fact that ‘Rebecca’ has NO onscreen time, this girl is non-existent and serves solely to make Henley (and every other woman in history) feel inadequate. So far, Henley’s character revolves first around her gender, then her weight and next? That’s right, her sexuality.

Merrit McKinney (Woody Harrelson) begins his sexual advances towards Henley from their first meeting, and at one point he explicitly propositions her with casual meaningless sex. But Henley only has eyes for J. Daniel, despite his condescension, disrespectful treatment and seething jealousy after she dumped his sorry show and became a successful Escapist.

Correspondingly, one of Henley and J. Daniel’s most ‘romantic’ moments is when she falls through the air into his arms: a damsel rescued. His disgusting response of, “You really have lost weight,” just serves to reinforce negative body image and romanticised misogyny! Plus, it really drives the knife in for me, about how Henley’s weight is worthy of a RUNNING joke throughout the movie.

Finally, in Henley’s only moment of emotional depth (thanking her partners for their shared journey before everything might blow up in their faces), she is cut off mid-sentence thanks to – you guessed it – J. Daniel. In another supposedly beautiful gesture (of interrupting Henley instead of letting her express herself), he asserts, “I know. Me too.” Romantic? Or just egotistical and assuming? Oh, and just in case you wanted Henley to grow as a character and realise that she is a strong, independent, successful escape artist, with no need of J. Daniel to validate her… A close up shot of their hands poetically clasped is one of their closing shots. Ugh. The guy gets the girl, as per usual, even if he’s done nothing but be a fuckwit the entire movie. Despite my disappointment with Henley’s portrayal, Now You See Me is actually more subtle than most films in its sexism, which is partly why I wanted to draw some attention to it. Many could be distracted by the awesome street magic, Escapism, card tricks, and Mentalism. It’s definitely entertaining, the twists are unexpected and Dylan Rhodes (Mark Ruffalo) is a gem. Although lacking in character development and interaction, I really did enjoy watching this film – it was clever and exciting, and I definitely recommend it. See if you noticed more than I did, or different things to me. The point is everyone should be critical of sexism in its more underhanded forms, so these standards aren’t unknowingly internalised.

As a parting gift, I’ll make Hollywood a promise: If female characters can stop having nothing to offer but their gender, weight issues and sexuality, I’ll stop illegally downloading movies. It’s possible… Now you see it, now you don’t. Right?

Ella Chivers' NOWSA review

Hilary Bowman-Smart and her co-presenter Rebekah* filled their presentation ‘Social Media and Feminism’ with more pictures of cats than written words. It was the second-to-last day of NOWSA, and I think everyone present at the workshop was emotionally drained enough to appreciate taking regular five-second breaks to see a tiny Russian Blue play with a ball of yarn. I had shown up wondering whether I would finally gain access to the underground workings of tumblr, but the cats seemed far more soothing to my weary mind. In fact, Hilary and Rebekah weren’t there to show us how to set up a new Twitter account, and the cats were actually relevant to their point – in a way.


You may have heard of Hilary’s brainchild, the Australian Cat Ladies. Back in April Hilary noticed that the Australian Christian Lobby had left the domain name australianchristianlobby.org unregistered, which meant that it was open for anyone to move in and claim the space as their own. Hilary seized the opportunity to hit back at the group, who are often extreme with their conservative social values. (Most recently they claimed that supporting marriage equality “sets up a new Stolen Generation” as it "ignored the consequence of robbing children of their biological identity through same-sex surrogacy and other assisted reproductive technology"). Sporting a fantastic rainbow logo and plenty of cartoon kittens, the Australian Cat Ladies took over the lobby group’s domain name and advocated for body autonomy, sex education, same sex marriage and ‘frequent tummy rubs’. The website went viral on social media after it’s launch, and clicked 260,000 views overnight.


The Australian Cat Ladies became an internet sensation because it managed to undermine the authority of one of Australia’s largest and most powerful lobby groups in a humorous and non-aggressive way. It gave people a punch-the-air moment as they discussed it over Facebook, or laughed about it at the pub with friends – and this is the heart of Hilary and Rebekah’s point. In contrast to academic theorizing (which can be quite exclusionary for those who do not have the time or inclination to sit down and read lengthy discussions over lofty concepts), this particular stream of feminist thought springs organically from the ideas and frustrations of women across the world with much less regard to their life situation or background. Like graffiti reclaims the streets, the internet can be a place for all women to take control over the tone of social commentary and hijack the public narrative with their own values or perspectives. Rebekah and Hilary argue that we should take these ideas and movements seriously – even as seriously as we often take academic writing – as they are anthropological markers of our own society and culture.


While I broadly agreed with the pair on most points, throughout the workshop I found there was an underlying assumption that the internet acts as some sort of over-riding ‘equalizer’ which is blind to race, gender or sexuality, and I thought that this was problematic. Anyone who has found themselves constantly referred to as a ‘he’ on reddit can attest to the fact that, outside of the safe spaces where autonomous groups have pooled, it is often simply assumed that every individual behind the computer screen is a white middle-class male. If you happen to ‘out’ yourself as a member of a minority group, it is not uncommon to be hounded or harassed, and you may find yourself treated differently because of the perceived change in persona.


One prominent example of this was the uproar caused when it was revealed that a woman named Elise Andrew was behind the popular I F*cking Love Science Facebook group. Andrew innocently posted a link to her twitter page, and received a poop-tsunami of responses to her ‘unexpected’ gender, including: "F.ck me! This is a babe ?!!", "holy hell, youre a HOTTIE!" and "you mean you're a girl, AND you're beautiful? wow, i just liked science a lil bit more today ^^". ** The presence of these inherent prejudices online means that it can still be difficult for many people to speak up about social issues for the fear that they may be shouted down by the hive mind, and this closes up discussion whilst maintaining systematic oppression.


Despite these issues, Hilary and Rebekah make some valid points around the shifting nature of feminist discourse, and I left their workshop with a thoughtful mind. Online actions like the Australian Cat Ladies website are becoming pivotal aspects to all social movement, and I think we should be reminding ourselves of their worth in getting our ideas out or staging an opposition to those values we dispute.


I also liked all the cats.

* Note: to the best of my knowledge, Rebekah didn’t give a last name.

** Quotes from The Guardian.

Radicalising Rihanna

CONTENT NOTE: SEX. DOMESTIC VIOLENCE.

The relationship between pop culture icons and politics is always a site of contention. I, like many others, am guilty of projecting feminist ideals onto the image of pop stars. I think I avoid it now, especially since I make an active effort to humanise public figures, and think of them of people who only know so much. I like to imagine Beyonce doing mundane things, like cleaning her teeth, and she can only think of so many things while she's doing that, but despite her public image I can only speculate what her thoughts are. Anyway, the intersection of pop culture and politics can often be found when you think about ideas of the public and the private, intention and humanity, ideas of respectability and responsibility.

Much like Beyonce, Rihanna has copped a gigantic amount of criticism from all sides of the room. She's too feminist for non-feminists, yet her decisions, especially regarding Chris Brown, cause her to be disparaged by certain feminists. But her position as a younger black woman of colour and her push to present herself in an authentic way, especially through her notorious Instagram account @badgalriri, is simultaneously ordinary and extraordinary. It's extraordinary in its ordinariness, in the ways she shows her multiple dimensions as an otherwise extremely commodified woman of colour.

As a woman of colour working through the same systems as Rihanna, I find inspiration in her agency. Not in terms of her economic capital (which incidentally is nothing but large if you listen to 'Pour it Up') but in terms of her expression of self in a society that rejects her, either as a human being or as the Bad Girl pop star she's constructed. Her choice to reside on one side of the virgin/whore dichotomy was partially enforced by the Chris Brown incident, and she decided to make the most of it, culminating with her most recent album titled 'Unapologetic'. When the sunny pop princess image shattered, it seemed that Rihanna made the most of the transformation and rebirthed as a sexually independent, expressive and fun-loving woman. Her songs reflect this transformation, and while she leaves room to express emotional turmoil, she also articulates a sexual hunger that revolves around her own wants and needs rather than pleasing others. Songs like 'Rude Boy', 'Cockiness (Love It)', 'S&M' and 'Birthday Cake' express a sense of sexuality that is often placed as exterior to ideas of love and intimacy, rebuking the idea that feminine sexuality is more emotive and centred around relationships rather than the more straightforward idea of pleasure for pleasure's sake. In 'Watch N' Learn', she emphasises reciprocacy and the idea of a partner pleasing her sexuality as representative of their feelings for her. This attitude is unique in mainstream pop culture, as the majority of other sexual songs are implicitly or explicitly centred around male pleasure. Rihanna makes it clear that she is not purely instrumental in that pleasure, reclaiming it as something that she definitely benefits from (sooner or later): "Make me a priority; there's nothing above my pleasure."

I could go on about the various ways Rihanna inspires me, in terms of body image, the way she subverts classic survivor narratives, and her strength in the face of public scrutiny. But largely I want to emphasise that while structurally Rihanna is complicit in neo-liberal blah in her highly commodified music/self, there is an element of authenticity that I think is irreducible, from her expressions of her lower-class Bajan background, to her subjectivity as a woman of colour.