FEMININITY

For years we have been told to suppress our femininity to pursue power, but isn't it time we
changed the narrative and realised the true power femininity holds and how embracing that
power can help us survive the future?

This year's theme for International Women's Day is "embracing equity", yet so many
women around the world are denied access to even the most basic rights afforded to most
men, such as bodily and reproductive autonomy, freedom from abuse, or access to financial
services. How can we hope to provide women with the equity needed to give them equality,
when they're not currently even treated the same as men?

Women have been fighting for power ever since the 3rd century BCE, yet even today our
power structures are dominated by a disproportionate number of men, silencing the voices
of other genders. In the UK, there are currently 225 women MPs, compared with 425 men:
a figure showing that we still have a long way to go to equality (even if we have made
improvements since the single female MP of 1918). The number of women CEOs in the
FTSE 250, although at an all-time high, is still only ten in the UK, and 33% of FTSE 250
board members are women. This pattern of power imbalance trickles down the business
pyramid. In 2017, only 38% of managerial positions were held by women. Women still
lack economic power too: the gender pay gap, although decreasing, is still running strong,
especially for women with children.

And as if this wasn't bad enough, the women who do find power are often made to feel like
their goals and opinions are less important than men's. One of the few ways women have
been able to gain power is by adopting traditionally "masculine" characteristics, such
as taking up more physical space, or talking louder and with a lower tone.

This is further perpetuated in the media we consume, seeing it played out on the big and
small screen. For example, Adjoa Andoh (who plays Lady Danbury in Bridgerston), talking
of how she used symbols of masculinity to give a sense of her character's power, spoke of
how "Men of this period, they had canes, they had hats, they would have a watch chain. So
Lady Danbury has a cane, a hat, and a watch chain." This isn't women being seen as
powerful for being who they are, but being forced to confirm to others' preconceived image
of power.

This leads to a detrimental conflict between four key "paradoxes", where women must
simultaneously embody opposite qualities to be perceived as a good leader. Harvard
Business Review found that women must be demanding yet caring; authoritative yet
participative; self-advocating yet serving others; and maintain distance yet seem
approachable. The patriarchal power structures of politics and business expect their leaders
(whatever their gender) to embody the "masculine ideals" we've become accustomed to.

Yet we also need to bring some more stereotypical feminine traits into leadership to truly
thrive as a society. We can see this kind of feminist leadership embodied in The Hunger
Games, where the main character's powerful leadership relies on her use of both her
"masculine" and "feminine" qualities. Maybe in the future this style of leadership could
become widespread in the real world too.

Julia Gillard, former Prime Minister of Australia said:

"People easily conclude that a woman leader is acting against the stereotypes of empathy and
nurturing, so we quickly tip into Cruella or Lady Macbeth or any of those sorts of stereotypes"

Men are inherently at an advantage for gaining professional power because they do not
have to continually face the conflict between performing masculinity or performing
femininity. Men are socialised to perform masculinity and repress their femininity, which in
itself causes a multitude of problems. Even though in recent years there has been a small
amount of rejection of society's gendered expectations of men through aesthetics like the
"femboy" and the "metrosexual", the expectation of performative masculinity is still
prevalent in many professional and private spheres.

Women are expected to perform femininity in all areas of life except when they are trying
to gain professional power. This is why we need to do more than meet employment quotas
if we are to reach gender equality. We need a societal revolution for how we treat gender as
a whole, including gendered qualities. Displaying "feminine" qualities (in any gender) often
results in a lower rate of pay: we are actively perpetuating the assumption that these
qualities are of less value to our society than "masculine" traits. Which isn't a win for
feminism.

María Fernanda Espinosa Garcés President of the UN General Assembly said:

"There is no way we will achieve our vision of a safer, fairer and more sustainable world without
the full participation and leadership of women and girls."

Already we are starting to see improvements because of the recognition of gender

expansive folks and the consequent reassessment of the traditionally binary understanding
of gender, but we need a lot more. Until we are released from the obligations of
performative gender, and everyone regardless of gender can use all their skills, until
"femininity" is considered as valuable as "masculinity" (especially with regards to
monetary value and power), we will never achieve gender equality.

Head

https://www.voicemag.uk/blog/12272/embracing-the-power-of-femininity

was not Black enough as a kid.

At least, that’s what I was often told by my classmates and, more subtly, by my family.

As soon as I entered middle school, I became obsessed with shoujo manga and anime —
the type of Japanese visual media made for teen girls. Magical girls, romance stories, and
cute colorful characters were my kryptonite. Every week I was in Borders (I know)
spending my allowance on every volume of Tokyo Mew Mew (which was for me what
Sailor Moon was for everyone else).

Yet when talking to friends at school, I hid the extent of my hobby, covering up my more
girlish interests with a passing familiarity of more male-oriented titles, like Naruto. When
making friends with other anime fans online, I was careful to hide my race behind cute
pale-skinned avatars. Even at such a young age, I had internalized enough of society’s
messaging to know what to expect if I were honest about my interests.

The cute Japanese things were not meant for a Black girl like me.

Softness is an act of rebellion. It’s a form of reclaiming the delicate femininity that has long
been thought of as exclusive to White and Asian women.

Back in 2015, Vice interviewed Black attendees at an anime convention about their
experiences in engaging with otaku (fan) culture. One Sailor Moon cosplayer revealed
some of the nastiness she received for dressing up as her favorite character:

That was the first time I ever cosplayed. I got some pictures taken that were posted on the
internet. I was excited… And then I read the comments. A lot of them weren’t good, at all.
I got “The cosplay is good, but she shouldn’t be Black,” and “Oh, her skin is too dark,” and
“Oh, her hair shouldn’t be blonde.” It was a lot of nasty stuff people should have kept to
themselves.

Anime is not the only realm that tries to exclude Black women from all things cute and
sweet. We’re often told to avoid wearing bright and colorful things that will “clash” with
our skin tones. Even young Black girls are subject to a large degree of adultification — the
biased perception that they are more mature and less in need of nurturing — that robs them
of the innocence of childhood.
The world seems to think that Black girls and softness don’t mix.

In a society where dark skin is often seen as inherently aggressive, and “sassy” has long
been the media’s descriptor of choice for Black women, softness is an act of rebellion. It’s a
form of reclaiming the delicate femininity that has long been thought of as exclusive to
White and Asian women.

White society’s attempts to exclude Black women from femininity and the connotations
that come with it — cuteness, sweetness, innocence — has been systematic and integral to
the oppression that began in slavery:

Like Black men, enslaved Black women were dehumanized… Stereotypes of Black women
— that they were loud, lewd, rude, ugly, barbaric, and sexually promiscuous — were used
to justify the atrocities committed against them. (Source)

The type of femininity that has been afforded to Black women is more often promiscuous
and suggestive. Black women and girls are the victims of a hypersexualized Jezebel
stereotype that leads to more instances of sexual assault and violence while also making us
less likely to receive support for these traumas.

The Soft Black Girl pushes back against these harmful stereotypes in a way that manages to
be both bold and revolutionary, despite the tranquility of the aesthetic. It combats images of
overly aggressive sex-driven Black women with a gentleness and innocence that the world
at large never associates with Blackness.

A number of artists, style icons, and Black-owned brands have stepped up to champion the
Soft Black Girl in the current visual landscape of media. Popular Dutch-Afro-Caribbean
artist Céli, co-creator of #Blacktober, depicts adorable characters of color in cozy and
comforting settings.

Geneva Bowers, better known as GDBee, is another popular Black artist whose work
captures the emotive beauty of Soft Black Girls with illustrations that range from light and
joyful to wistful and somber.

This aesthetic clearly resonates with a lot of other Black girls and women. The feeling it
evokes is similar to the positively pink style of Jacque Aye, founder of Adorned by Chi, a
brand that was created to capture the desire of Black women to depict softness and light
through clothing and accessories with slogans like “Cosmic Cutie” and “Let’s Cry
Together.”

In a past ZORA interview, Aye talked about her motivations in creating the brand: “I’ve
always liked a feminine, magical aesthetic, but I never saw Black women represented. It
was always fair-skinned images. I wanted to make something where Black women could be
beautiful, feminine, and magical.”
While a pretty pastel look draws the attention, the idea of the Soft Black Girl goes beyond
visuals. It’s also about being able to express vulnerability in a world that expects all Black
women to be “strong” and forever resilient.

Researcher Seanna Leath explored Black women’s mental health and the effects of the
Strong Black Woman stereotype on their emotional well-being:

My conversations with Black college women highlight that even as they were praised for
taking care of siblings, helping around the house, and excelling academically, their
emotional displays of vulnerability, anger, and sadness were often met with resistance from
family members. A recurring theme among the young women was that they had “never
seen their mothers cry.”

The emotional suppression of trauma that Black women experience is a key component of
the Strong Black Woman character. Having a “stiff upper lip” about all that we endure has
long been the model of resilience passed down through generations. But in recent years
there has been a shift. As more Black women are embracing therapy and attending to their
mental health, it has become increasingly important to break cycles of trauma through
engaging directly with emotion in an open and vulnerable way.

The emergence of the Soft Black Girl gives us the space to shed the weight of the Strong
Black Woman expectations and display a full range of emotion.

In an essay by fellow Medium writer

Ashia Monet

entitled “Yes, Black Girls Are Allowed to Be Soft,” Monet articulates the rebellious nature of
softness for Black women: “In a world that rejects vulnerability for the Black woman, she carves it
out for herself.” The emergence of the Soft Black Girl gives us the space to shed the weight of the
Strong Black Woman expectations and display a full range of emotion — even when it’s
unpleasant.

There is strength in choosing to be soft and gentle in a world that attempts to elicit nothing
but hardness and stoicism from you. In this way, Black women continue to defy the
limitations and bounds of racism with grace, beauty, strength, and a lovely pastel palette.

https://zora.medium.com/soft-black-girls-and-the-reclamation-of-black-femininity-203db3c57f35