We Should All Be Feminists我們都應(yīng)該是女權(quán)主義者

奇瑪曼達(dá)·恩戈茲·阿迪契

The problem with gender， is that it prescribes how we should be rather than recognizing how we are.性別的問題在于它規(guī)定了我們應(yīng)該是什么樣的，而不是承認(rèn)我們本來是什么樣的。

In 2003， I wrote a novel called Purple Hibiscus2， about a man who， among other things， beats his wife， and whose story doesn’t end too well. While I was promoting the novel in Nigeria， a journalist， a nice， well-meaning man， told me he wanted to advise me. （Nigerians， as you might know， are very quick to give unsolicited3 advice.） He told me that people were saying my novel was feminist， and his advice to me—he was shaking his head sadly as he spoke—was that I should never call myself a feminist， since feminists are women who are unhappy because they cannot find husbands.

So I decided to call myself a Happy Feminist. Then an academic， a Nigerian woman， told me that feminism was not our culture， that feminism was un-African. So I decided I would now call myself a Happy African Feminist. Then a dear friend told me that calling myself a feminist meant that I hated men. So I decided I would now be a Happy African Feminist Who Does Not Hate Men. At some point I was a Happy African Feminist Who Does Not Hate Men And Who Likes To Wear Lip Gloss And High Heels For Herself And Not For Men.

Now here’s a story from my childhood. When I was in primary school， my teacher said at the beginning of term that she would give the class a test and whoever got the highest score would be the class monitor. Class monitor was a big deal4. If you were a class monitor， you got to write down the names of noisemakers.

But my teacher would also give you a cane to hold in your hand while you walk around and patrol the class for noisemakers. Of course you were not actually allowed to use the cane. But it was an exciting prospect for the nine-year-old me. I very much wanted to be the class monitor. And I got the highest score on the test. Then， to my surprise， my teacher said that the monitor had to be a boy.

A boy had the second highest score on the test， and he would be monitor. Now， what was even more interesting about this is that the boy was a sweet， gentle soul5 who had no interest in patrolling the class with the cane， while I was full of ambition to do so. But I was female and he was male， and so he became the class monitor. And I’ve never forgotten that incident.

Some men feel threatened by the idea of feminism. Other men might respond by saying， “Okay， this is interesting， but I don’t think like that. I don’t even think about gender.”

Maybe not.

And that is part of the problem. That many men do not actively think about gender or notice gender. If you are a man and you walk into a restaurant with a woman and the waiter greets only you， does it occur to you to ask the waiter， “Why have you not greeted her？” Men need to speak out in all of these ostensibly6 small situations.

Gender matters everywhere in the world. It is time we should begin to dream about and plan for a different world. A fairer world. A world of happier men and happier women who are truer to themselves. And this is how to start： we must raise our daughters differently. We must also raise our sons differently.

We do a great disservice to boys in how we raise them. We stifle the humanity of boys. We define masculinity in a very narrow way. Masculinity becomes a hard， small cage， and we put boys inside this cage.

We teach boys to be afraid of fear， of weakness， of vulnerability. We teach them to mask their true selves， because they have to be， in Nigerian-speak—a hard man.

In secondary school， a boy and a girl go out， both of them teenagers with the same amount of pocket money， would go out and then the boy would be expected always to pay， to prove his masculinity. And yet we wonder why boys are more likely to steal money from their parents.

What if both boys and girls were raised not to link masculinity and money？ What if their attitude was not “the boy has to pay，” but rather， “whoever has more should pay.” Of course， because of their historical advantage， it is mostly men who will have more today. But if we start raising children differently， then in fifty years， in a hundred years， boys will no longer have the pressure of proving their masculinity by material means.

But by far the worst thing we do to males—by making them feel they have to be hard—is that we leave them with very fragile egos. The harder a man feels compelled to be， the weaker his ego is.

And then we do a much greater disservice to girls， because we raise them to cater to the fragile egos of males. We teach girls to shrink themselves， to make themselves smaller.

We say to girls： You can have ambition， but not too much. You should aim to be successful but not too successful， otherwise you will threaten the man. If you are the breadwinner in your relationship with a man， pretend that you are not， especially in public， otherwise you will emasculate7 him.

But what if we question the premise itself？ Why should a woman’s success be a threat to a man？ What if we decide to simply dispose of that word， and I don’t think there’s an English word I dislike more than “emasculation.”

Boys and girls are undeniably different biologically， but socialization exaggerates the differences and then it becomes a self-fulfilling process. What if in raising children we focus on ability instead of gender？ What if in raising children we focus on interest instead of gender？

Some people will say a woman is subordinate to men because it’s our culture. But culture is constantly changing. I have beautiful twin nieces who are 15. If they had been born a hundred years ago， they would have been taken away and killed. Because a hundred years ago， Igbo8 culture considered the birth of twins to be an evil omen. Today that practice is unimaginable to all Igbo people.

Culture does not make people. People make culture. If it is true that the full humanity of women is not our culture， then we can and must make it our culture.

My great-grandmother， from stories I’ve heard， was a feminist. She ran away from the house of the man she did not want to marry and married the man of her choice. She refused， protested， spoke up whenever she felt she was being deprived of land and access because she was female. She did not know that word feminist. But it doesn’t mean she wasn’t one. My own definition of a feminist is a man or a woman who says， “Yes， there’s a problem with gender as it is today and we must fix it， we must do better.”

All of us， women and men， must do better.

2003年我寫了一本小說，書名是《紫木槿》，講的是一個男人，除了干些別的事外，還打他的老婆。他的結(jié)局也不太好。我在尼日利亞宣傳這本書的時候，一位為人不錯的記者好心跟我說想給我一點建議。（你們可能都知道，尼日利亞人喜歡主動給人提建議。）他告訴我有人說我的小說是女權(quán)主義作品，而他給我的建議是——他說話時惋惜地?fù)u著頭——我絕不該稱自己是女權(quán)主義者，因為女權(quán)主義者都是些不快樂的女人，因為她們找不到丈夫。

于是我決定稱自己為快樂的女權(quán)主義者。然后有一個尼日利亞女學(xué)者跟我說，女權(quán)主義不是我們的文化，女權(quán)主義不屬于非洲。于是我決定現(xiàn)在我是快樂的非洲女權(quán)主義者。后來有一位好友告訴我，承認(rèn)自己是女權(quán)主義者意味著我恨男人。于是我決定，現(xiàn)在我是不恨男人又快樂的非洲女權(quán)主義者。有時候我又是為取悅自己而非男人而涂口紅穿高跟鞋且不恨男人又快樂的非洲女權(quán)主義者。

下面是我小時候發(fā)生的一件事。我上小學(xué)的時候，開學(xué)時老師說要給全班同學(xué)考試，誰考第一誰就當(dāng)班長。當(dāng)了班長可了不得，如果你是班長的話，就能記下?lián)v蛋鬼的名字。

老師還會給你一根藤條，你可以拿著藤條在班里四處巡邏，尋找搗蛋鬼。當(dāng)然你是不允許真的使用這根藤條的。但對于九歲的我來說，這太令人激動了。我非常想當(dāng)班長。而且我在考試中得了第一名。但沒想到，老師說班長必須是男生。

一個男生在考試中得了第二名，他將成為班長。有意思的是，這個男生是個溫柔又文靜的孩子，對手持藤條在班里巡邏沒有一點兒興趣，而我則非常渴望這么做。不過我是女生，他是男生，所以他成了班長。我從沒忘記過這件事。

有些男人覺得受到了女權(quán)主義思想的威脅。還有些男人可能會說：“好吧，這想法有意思。但我不會這么想。我甚至不會考慮性別問題” 。

或許真的不會。

這就是部分問題所在。很多男人不會主動考慮或注意性別問題。如果你是一位男士，和一位女士一起走進(jìn)一家餐廳，但服務(wù)員只跟你打招呼，你會不會問他：“你為什么不和她打招呼？”男人們需要在所有這些貌似無足輕重的場合大膽表態(tài)。

無論在世界的哪個角落，性別問題都很重要。我們是時候該開始夢想、設(shè)計一個不一樣的世界了——一個更公平的世界。在這個世界里，無論男女都更幸福，也更忠于自己。我們應(yīng)該這樣開始：我們撫養(yǎng)女兒的方式必須改變。我們撫養(yǎng)兒子的方式也必須改變。

我們撫養(yǎng)男孩的方式對他們造成了極大的傷害。我們扼殺了男孩的天性。我們把男子氣概定義得太過狹隘。男子氣概變成了一個堅固狹小的牢籠，我們把男孩塞進(jìn)了這樣的牢籠。

我們教男孩害怕恐懼、缺點和脆弱。我們教他們隱藏真實的自己，因為他們必須成為——用尼日利亞人的話來說——硬漢。

在中學(xué)里，如果一個男孩和一個女孩出去約會——兩人都是少年，零花錢也一樣多，男孩總是該付錢的那個，以此來證明他的男子氣概。我們卻還在納悶為何男孩更可能從父母那偷錢。

如果在養(yǎng)育男孩女孩的過程中不教他們將男子氣概和金錢掛鉤，會怎樣？如果他們的態(tài)度不是“男孩必須付錢”而是“誰錢多誰付錢”，會怎樣？當(dāng)然，因為男人歷來享有的優(yōu)勢，現(xiàn)在多數(shù)情況下還是男人更有錢。但如果我們開始改變養(yǎng)育子女的方式，那么在50年、100年之后，男孩就不會再有用物質(zhì)財富證明其男子氣概的壓力了。

不過到目前為止，我們對男性做的最糟糕的事情是我們讓他們覺得自己必須成為硬漢，結(jié)果卻讓他們的自我變得很脆弱。男人越強迫自己做硬漢，他的自我就越脆弱。

我們撫養(yǎng)女孩的方式對她們的傷害更大，因為我們讓她們?nèi)ビ夏行源嗳醯淖晕摇Ｎ覀兘膛兎诺妥约?，把自己變得更弱小?/p>

我們對女孩們說：你可以有野心，但別太多;你可以立志成功，但別太成功，否則會威脅到男人的。在與男人的關(guān)系中，如果你是掙錢養(yǎng)家的那個，假裝你不是，特別是在公共場合，否則會損害他的男子氣概的。

但如果我們質(zhì)疑男子氣概這個前提本身呢？為什么女人的成功會威脅到男人呢？如果我們決定直接舍棄這個詞呢？沒有一個英語單詞比“有損男子氣概”更讓我討厭了。

男孩女孩間存在著生理差異，這是無可爭辯的，但其社會化過程夸大了這種差異，使這種差異變成了一個自我應(yīng)驗的過程。要是在教育孩子時我們關(guān)注能力而非性別，會怎樣？要是在教育孩子時，我們關(guān)注興趣而非性別，又會怎樣？

有人會說女性的地位低于男性是因為這是我們的文化。但文化是不斷變化的。我有一對漂亮的雙胞胎侄女，今年15歲。如果她們出生在100年前，可能會被帶走、殺死。因為在100年前，伊博文化認(rèn)為雙胞胎的誕生是一種噩兆。如今，這種做法對任何伊博人來說都是無法想象的。

不是文化造就人，而是人造就文化。如果我們的文化真的不認(rèn)同女性是完整意義上的人，那么我們可以，也必須使之成為我們的文化。

從我聽到的故事來看，我的曾祖母是個女權(quán)主義者。她不想嫁給一個男人，就從他家逃了出來，跟自己選擇的男人結(jié)了婚。只要她覺得自己因為是女人而被剝奪了土地或權(quán)利，她就拒絕、抗議，大膽為自己辯護(hù)。她不知道“女權(quán)主義者”一詞，但這并不意味著她不是一個女權(quán)主義者。我自己給女權(quán)主義者的定義是：一個男人或女人，認(rèn)為“的確，當(dāng)今性別的現(xiàn)狀是有問題的。我們必須解決這個問題，我們必須做得更好?！?/p>

我們所有人，無論男人還是女人，都必須做得更好。

（譯者為“《英語世界》杯”翻譯大賽獲獎選手，單位：常州信息職業(yè)技術(shù)學(xué)院）