I count myself among the first generation of American men who were proud to call ourselves "feminists".
Born in the 1960's, the Equal Rights Amendment movement was happening when I was a boy in grade school. I was confused with the notion, since "equal rights" was something that I thought was guaranteed already in the constitution. I really didn't understand U.S. political realities very well at that time.
Very early in my working career I was a paid activist during the week as a job, and on the weekends I would spend my Saturday mornings with work friends, defending the women's health clinic, on Capitol Hill in Seattle, from zealots who had come to torment and taunt the young women who were seeking services there. Protestors and counter-protestors would face off on the sidewalk in front of the clinic, and the altercations would often get physical, as I and the others who came with me would ultimately guarantee a safe path into the clinic for the girls that needed the services provided there.
That weekend hobby continued until I was invited to leave the group, along with my other male friends who were giving their time in this way, by the leadership of the women's group who at first had invited us. Our offense was nothing personal we were told, just being male, as the leaders of this feminist action group did not need male feminists, or so they said; we were simply deemed to be of the wrong gender to go on participating. So we left.
Saturday mornings went back to sleeping in.
And the feminist movement, from that time in the early eighties, went...well....it just kept on going.
I continued to pursue work that suited my desire for social justice and community service. I worked in an environmental organization, joined the Peace Corps for the first time, and over the years to come entertained many different social work positions that served target populations of many kinds. I was always a bit bummed with that first experience with the feminist crowd, but never let it deter me from seeking opportunities to still be involved.
Over the years I applied for several entry level positions with Planned Parenthood. The job listings were usually looking for someone with basic counseling skills and experience, which I had, and experience and comfort with discussing the subjects of sexuality and contraception, which I also had, having also worked in the HIV/AIDS field. Though my qualifications and experience appeared to be a perfect match, I never even got an interview. After several years and many attempts, I called Planned Parenthood to see what I could find out, and was told that the positions for family planning counselors (who counsel both men and women) were generally filled by women, not men.
Now I'm working for a largely female women's rights organization, in Quezon City, Philippines. It's a well recognized anti-human trafficking organization that focuses on the safety and livelihood of women and children. I was delighted to land the position, even though it's volunteer work. My job is to integrate anti-trafficking strategies into the disaster management framework of the Philippines. I love the work, and I'm lucky to have it.
A week ago I attended a conference on global warming in Legaspi City, Philippines where many Filipino disaster managers were convening to discuss the work. On the return trip to Quezon City, I stopped off in Matnog, at one of the facilities of the Visayan Forum. I was kept as a guest by the lovely ladies who run the house, and tolerated with good humor by the girls who were staying there. We shared a wonderful afternoon at the beach, cooked meals together, cleaned house together, and I was permitted to sleep on the floor in the airconditioned office, attached to the house, where I could save on hotel expenses while I had the opportunity to discuss work matters with the supervisor there.
I had a great time. And the experience of being permitted to work with all of these great people was for me, a special opportunity that probably none of my Filipina hostesses quite understood. Noone made an issue of my gender, noone had to suspect me of male mischief or malace, noone treated me any differently than one might sensibly treat a guest who might drop in and need a place to stay. And the experience, for me, was truly significant.
It would have Never happened like that in the U.S.
