On Facebook the other day, a friend—and fellow abolitionist—named Andrea Heinz shared a Twitter thread from The Radical Notion on women speaking up regarding material reality and women’s rights. Discussing the issue briefly, Heinz and I agreed that, under the weight of abuse, which includes blacklisting, women seek to mitigate that potential harm. Courage has never been easy to have, especially in the face of an almost divinely ordained, very well-funded Moloch of the modern era.

There has been much “blaming and shaming” directed at women, such as Macy Gray, for being fearful and “recanting.” But it must be considered whether or not this kind of behavior toward others actually can win the general population to the cause. For my part, I cannot relate to the vitriol directed at women over them seeking any kind of self-preservation. Sneering at women and implying, if not incessantly declaring, their inferiority and expected deference to men hardly seems helpful in consciousness raising. It would not be justifiable to attack any person in this way, though it seems peculiarly striking in being waged against women.

Stories from “trans widows,” female partners of transitioning males, many of whom must write under pseudonyms, have taught me this lesson in looking at the reasons why. Nor does it seem reasonable to deploy a shame-based tactic—only to wonder why it does not work very well in terms of morale. In a thread of her own, J.K. Rowling writes:

Men in my mentions telling me I should support the bullying of other women into the ‘correct’ position: you’re advocating that I become what I hate. Those are the tactics of the misogynist movement women are currently fighting. If your sole contribution to the discussion on the erosion of women’s rights is to wade in and start haranguing and lecturing women on how to behave and think, you’ve got far more in common with what I’m standing against than you have with me.

Attacking individual women, claiming they are but cowards, will not call any woman to courage. Many have been acting like most women, even those with relatively sufficient wealth, can endure quite extreme personal and professional harassment. But this assumption is wrong—and the price women end up paying is severe, maybe too severe for most. Women have their families, and, in particular, mothers have their children to be concerned for, so our understanding must begin there. A religious dynamic of forcing women into fearful submission does not need to be reproduced, presumably done in response to precisely that dynamic.

Referenced by The Radical Notion, Andrea Dworkin has said: “Feminism exists so that no woman ever has to face her oppres­sor in a vacuum, alone.” In popular quotations of her, Dworkin’s words sometimes appear as reading “abuser,” instead of “oppressor,” and “in isolation” rather than “in a vacuum,” but the meaning remains nevertheless. In this 1990 speech, given in memory of the all-female victims of the Montréal Massacre, fourteen women murdered, Dworkin notes the necessity for women “to put fear aside.” However, as The Radical Notion has it, finding courage does not mean heckling women—or even men, really—for them showing fear. It matters far more to understand the conditions under which this fear manifests and, with others, work to overcome it. To women, Dworkin advises resistance, creativity, and endurance. Each woman, recognizing shared experiences with other women, finds a sense of commonality. Isolation no longer comes to present the effective barrier that it has been for too long.

Perhaps the most significant aspect of a social movement, whatever its goal for social change, remains that it gives the individual a sense of not being alone. We can easily lose hope when feeling split from others who understand us. In realizing a commonality with others around oneself, however, it becomes possible to recognize mutual struggle and, hopefully, improve social conditions for the whole of society. The above thread by The Radical Notion indicates this value that individuals find in social movements, whether feminism or emerging survivor movements. 

Had I not already lost so much already, finding myself more alienated than I thought, I would fear such loss. That fear would probably not keep me from leaping into the burning house anyway, though I do think, for most rational people, it effectively scares away challengers. A reason why I did not write under a pseudonym is that I never could think up a fitting name to write under other than my given one. Akin to the Victorian abolitionist Josephine Butler, I may be what she calls “a little mad,” but I have found a purpose in this madness—as she did. Courage seems crazy—and, indeed, not too convenient. Mad as can be, here I am—and, more importantly, here we are together.