Editor's Note, 4/17

I counted my lucky stars when I scored one of the last few tickets to Gloria Steinem's speaking engagement, but halfway through the Q&A portion at the end, I ducked out of the Chapel and into the drizzle. Puzzled by my dissatisfaction with her speech and enraged by the return of cold weather, I made my way to the Bryan Center and found a friend with whom I could decompress. She, also, was uneasy with some of what Steinem said. We attempted to parse through what felt like jadedness.

At first, I struggled to articulate what sounded wrong to me. There were enlightening moments, good sound bytes, but overall I left with the weight of some vague degree of disappointment. It was THE Gloria Steinem, the literal trailblazer, the icon of the women’s liberation movement, and I hated the sour taste in my mouth.

“I guess I didn’t really know what to expect but I thought it would be… more,” I said.

And then my friend admitted to me that she was “underwhelmed,” and I had to concede, but I didn’t want to believe that we could feel so blah about it. Scrolling through the exuberant live-tweets and gushing Facebook statuses, I felt none of the enthusiasm of my peers, and my thoughts turned increasingly critical. What was wrong with me, a vocal and at least semi-conscientious feminist, that I couldn’t appreciate something that meant so much to the sold-out audience around me?

We got to a point where we were preaching to the choir at each other. Conversations about the lukewarmness of Steinem’s stances didn't get us very far, but maybe admitting that is the first step. But what’s next?

Today, I spoke with another friend about my issues with the speech and the cult of personality around Steinem, and she offered a different perspective on my reaction.

“Where you differ from her is a product of the work she has done,” she said.

And, the truth is, that’s much bigger than any bone I have to pick with Gloria. The reality that contains me—fidgeting in the Chapel, fruitlessly refreshing the Facebook messenger app with zero Wifi, wondering if or when she might say something a bit more radical—is a reality only made possible through the work of organizers like her. I can critique, but I must not discredit. I roll my eyes on the shoulders of giants.

Whenever I step away from a moment of anxiously opposing something that pleases a majority, I consider a Nana Grizol lyric: “Cynicism isn’t wisdom/It’s a lazy way to say that you’ve been burned.” Let’s make a deal: I won’t romanticize my detachment if you promise to take Steinem off the pedestal.

It is important to note but easy to forget that “my side” and “your side” both exist and must be respected. For women to deny women space… Well, that’s not exactly a step in the right direction. It is imperative that we seek and reside in the happy medium between idolatry and dismissal of figureheads. It is imperative that we allow room for the gushing as well as the ranting. We must compromise. We don't have to share all enthusiasms, but we can take turns.

My expectations were my own, and my disappointment is my own. I have since realized that I don’t need to be ashamed of (or even anxious about) either, but I know that I do need to spend some time figuring out what the hell to do with both.

I think that’s what’s next, actually. Putting my expectations and disappointments to good (i.e. constructive) use. Figuring out the path to ascend to a point where I am able to find, create, facilitate and nurture the dialogues that I think, that I believe, should be happening. I want a Gabby Bess for every Steinem. I have two more years here to work on it. No pressure.