I started going to hardcore shows when I was 15 or 16, probably getting out to one a week during my high school and university days. Ten years on, I’m lucky if I have time to make it to one or two in a year — that distance (and time) has given me space to reflect on the space for young women in what was then, and even more so now is, a male-dominated, hyper-masculine subculture. So obviously, obviously, I bought Sara Marcus’ much-anticipated book about the riot grrrl scene. Punk music, check. Feminism, check.

When I started going to shows, riot grrrl was a punchline, reduced to a fashion footnote for corny photo spreads in the YM and Seventeen magazines my older sister bought — plastic hair barrettes, Doc Martens, pigtails, DIY shirts with shit scrawled on them. It was no longer an actual genre — I’d missed the boat by quite a few years, and it seemed as though hardcore punk (from which riot grrrl was an off-shoot) had settled into a state of true, unshakeable apathy. The punk of the ’70s was about the youth voice; class struggle in the ’80s; consciousness-raising (veganism, grassroots activism, zines about all kinds of political/personal struggles, Hare Krishna) in the early-mid ’90s. But hardcore punk in the late ’90s/early 2000s was about moshing, violence, wearing North Face and Nike Dunks, posturing about ‘honour’ and ‘friendship’ — really, a euphemism for being catty to people who weren’t in your crew. The personal had obliterated the political. It’s still like this, in 2011, except now people wear less streetwear and more black/skinny jeans/plaid. I still love the music but then, as it is now, there were just a few ways for girls to find their way into the community, which boiled down to two main approaches:

1. You could be one of the boys: take photos (that was me!), make zines, mosh, maaaaaybe start a band if you were really brave and liked people talking shit about you, or…
2. You could be the slut: the girlfriend to some dude in some band or the coat-rack in the back.

Anyway, my own experiences really informed the way I read her book, drawing parallels between our ten-year difference in punkhood. You know, plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose…

One of the big themes was about how riot grrrls (all teenaged girls, really) had no agency or voice when the national discourse turned hand-wringing over their sexualities, their morals, and just about everything else in their lives. It was the ’90s, and there was the March on Washington, the emergence of the Christian right. These days it’s mostly the same — pre-teens slut-shamed in the New York Times after being gang-raped, ridiculous abortion legislation, crisis pregnancy centres, SlutWalks, still about the Christian right and their purity balls and virginity vows (you should read Jessica Valenti’s “The Purity Myth” for more on that).

The most beautiful thing I learned about riot grrrl was that it took the feminist rhetoric of “creating safe spaces” for women and made it real; not just that, but they made it the backbone of their community. It’s easy to be a feminist, hard to be a feminist activist. They went to shows and forced boys to make room in the pit by linking arms in a circle, right up front by the bands, creating a space where women could be part of shows without being moshed over. They started meetings and chapters, where issues of rape, harassment, incest and body image were freely discussed. They lived together, started bands together.

Still, feminism, even a punk version of it, wasn’t without flaws. Most kids who can afford to go to shows, buy records and merch and go on roadtrips aren’t scrabbling in the dirt and feeling oppression firsthand; like pretty much every musical scene since MTV has been an exercise in suburban angst and the odyssey to find belonging with other middle-class misfits. Plus, they are 17, and who can blame them for not being cognizant of post-secondary academics such as Germaine Greer, Andrea Dworkin, Judith Butler, Naomi Wolf, etc., etc., and their concepts on class, race, oppression, privilege, and blah blah blah big feminist words. So yeah, of course riot grrrls were a little oblivious to the dynamics of race and class in their scene.

In any case, what eventually happened is riot grrrls who were feminist (without knowing exactly that they were) became shamed, sort of, for not being up to snuff on said ideas. Anyone’s who’s ever read the comments section on a feminist blog is saving themselves $50,000 in gender studies tuition — pretty much a roomful of edumacated, enlightened gals trying to out-academicese each other. THE PERFECT term for this is “Oppression Olympics.” I can’t remember now whether this phrase was attributed to riot grrrl Erika Reinstein in the book or if I’m borrowing it from an awesome riot grrrl’s blog, but it’s a problem that has not gone away. It can be discouraging trying to remain energized about feminism when it’s become OK for feminists to harp on other feminists for not “owning up to their privilege” or being a white girl and not understanding race relations, or dimensions of class/sexuality/so forth, or shaming people for things they could not have controlled (i.e. having a penis, being white, taking ballet lessons when they were 6 years old), rather than saying, “Hey, women who are feminist and also grew up with privilege can immensely helpful as allies and partners in dismantling all kinds of privilege.”

So, lots of tendrils that still resonate, 15 or 20 years on. More than anything, I mourn the loss of riot grrrl not for its music, but because young women are marginalized in punk unless they are brave enough, have the wherewithal to. I don’t believe it’s a conscious decision for guys in the hardcore scene to exclude women, it’s just a natural extension of the bravado and machoism that exudes from the music. There’s an important lesson here — not just for some now-obscure musical/political scene that came and went within the span of oh, eight years — but for all feminist activists who give a damn and want to do something useful. So to borrow from hardcore vernacular, stop being so fucking negi.

Writing a feminist column, I got the occasional irate reader. Most of them are nitpicky and miss the point, while others are straight up incomprehensible. Up until this point, my favourite one was a rambling, angsty Facebook message from a first-year male, white, university student from Calgary, who said there should be men’s studies if there are to be women’s studies, and then argued that feminism was actually a deep conspiracy to overthrow men because some feminists “would like more equality [than men], which is by no means equal.” Equality ≠ equal? Then, oblivious to the fact that humanism has already been invented (maybe that doesn’t come until second year philosophy?), he suggested we call feminism “humanism” and focus on men AND women. Brills!

Anyway, it was my favourite letter, until I received this one from Brett Lovett — or rather, from his email but penned by his “daughter” who wishes to shame me for my sinning ways. All bold-face emphasis is mine:

Subject: Feminist relationships

Your column is full of bad choices and bad advice. [Ed's note: I really liked this column.]

1. You’re living with your boyfriend outside of marriage is a sin against God and the Bible.
2. You’re a liar when you say Canadian society has left behind housewives and made breadwinner. This is a Bible Directed and God given pattern for society.
3. Your assertion that finding cuts to Pride Toronto is not a good thing. On the contrary homosexuality is evil according to my Bible and we’re instructed not even to think about what these people might practice.
4. Being pro-choice is evil, i mean killing unborn Canadian boys and girls. According to the Bible it is God who gives life. Abortionists will one day have to stand before God and give an account.
5. Over coming gender role is against God, and the Bible. He made male and female and commanded in the Bible not to mix up these roles.
6. Commitment and marriage are not ideas, but Commandments in the Holy Scripture.
7. You disagree with March for Life Protesters: Pro-life versus your pro-death policy—again evil and sin in God’s Bible.
8. A woman’s right over her body does not include killing her unborn child who is a distinct person separate from the mother not apart [sic] of the mother.

Your opinions are against God and God’s Word. Your battle is against Truth, the Bible, and the Lord. Jesus came that we may have life, Satan comes to kill, steal, and to destroy. Your need to repent from your sin and turn to Christ for salvation!

Esther Rose Lovett
Grade 6 student

Touche, Esther. In response, here is a list of things I believed in when I, too, was a 12-year-old girl in an evangelical Christian church, but no longer do:

1. That morality is dictated, not self-determined. The thing about religious folk is that they rely on someone else to give them a moral compass. It’s a difficult task, having to rationalize why you believe in the things you do, isn’t it?
2. That the Christian church can still function as a moral compass for society. Y’know, not just a group of shrill hand-wringers seeking to involve themselves in people’s lives despite Biblical teachings that tolerance and leading by example is how to teach the gospel, not shaming practices. Does the term moral relativism mean nothing anymore?
3. The circular logic of Christian morality: Because Christianity happens to espouse some moral concepts (don’t lie, cheat, steal), the church claims ownership of these, and uses it to stoke the argument that because society already uses these concepts, it must therefore continue to be that way. I should call this ‘theocratic creep.’ Oh, and no other religion (Islam, Judaism) or prevailing common sense can haz credit for telling people to be decent human beings. You’re either with us, or are totally anti-moral, abortionist savages.
4. Same thing as above, but replace “lie, cheat, steal” with “gender division of labour/domestic roles.” Oh, and other religions (Islam, namely) are evil for repressing women! But it’s cool if we do it, right?
5. That Christians are immune to Canadian legal definitions! Which is to say, by golly, it doesn’t matter if fetuses are not people under Canadian law, Christians are going to keep calling them distinct people! You can’t kill something that, until it’s about 7 or 8 months, can’t survive on its own, OK? Go make your own micro-nation in Alberta, already.

Canice Leung
Grade 6 feminist

P.S. I don’t feel bad mocking a 12-year-old girl because, as is probably not even necessary to point out, it’s her dad who wrote half of this (or maybe she’s one of these Jesus Camp types?).

Women are just so reckless — college gals like Geisy Arruda should learn to cover up, knowing that her male counterparts transform from mild-mannered men into beastly rapists-in-waiting when they get a sniff of a curvy blonde.

On Oct. 22, classmates of the 20-year-old tourism student at Sao Paulo’s Bandeirante University harassed, jeered and threatened her with rape when she showed up for class in a hot pink mini-dress.

According to Brazzil Magazine, about 20 female students followed her to the bathroom and attempted to force pants on her. Men trailed, trying to stick cellphone cameras up her skirt. Police officers finally showed up to subdue the ever-growing mob with pepper spray and extract a crying Arruda from a barricaded classroom, while the approximately 700-strong crowd shouted, “Puta! Puta! (Whore! Whore!)”

Then, the poor gal was informed she’d been expelled after the school took out a newspaper ad saying so. (She was reinstated Monday after a media and government uproar.) In contrast, several hecklers were suspended.

In case today’s lesson wasn’t clear, here it is from the university’s lawyer: “She always liked to provoke boys. The problem was not with her clothes, but the way she acts, talks, crosses her legs, and walks.”

I’ve heard that line directed at rape victims: What were you wearing? Why were you walking home alone? How much did you drink? Here’s a question: Does excessive thigh fill men with so much puritanical hysteria that mass rape seems like a reasonable response?

Brazil, like North America, is a hyper-sexualized culture. Though the media makes mention that Brazilian students dress modestly in jeans and tees, Brazil is still the land of Carnaval and G-strings, and skimpy dress is encouraged — that is, apparently, until someone actually does so; then she’s a “puta.”

Women can only take so much objectification before they become just things to ridicule, or — as was the case with a 15-year-old girl in Richmond, Calif., last month — just bodies to gang-rape in a school yard.

Arruda’s harrowing experience is a lesson: Men are not responsible for their actions, therefore women are.

So maybe it’s true what everyone says about university — the most worthwhile lessons are extra-curricular. No textbooks required; just a hot pink mini-dress.

My girlfriend goes to job one and job two every day; if only I had so much to pack into a day. I’ll contemplate shaving and getting dressed to go scope out a host position at a bistro, but then I’ll really like that I still have my plaid boxers on and I’ll tell myself I could always go tomorrow. I made sure that my dad deposited my car-lease money in my checking account—I think he is going to have to deposit rent money also. Using up your dad’s family-plan minutes sucks. Am I really 24 and still on the family plan? It’s embarrassing.

I’m too lazy to go to the gym, so I’ll take my Les Paul out of its case and stand in front of the mirror playing a John Mayer song. I’ve spent the past two weeks drinking and listening to music. And I spent my severance at a bar. I need to get good at that guitar so I can play at bars.

(Read the full profile here.)

But then I read the profiles of other unemployed men and women on the following pages, whom I actually felt very sorry for. Then it made me glad to know “headhunters” were now being considered “redundant,” because if they are all like Ross, they’re better off contributing even less to this world as U.I. society-suckers than as gainfully employed, babied assholes.

Addendum: Do people actually still pose for portraits looking over the shoulder in the year 2009?