Not the same boat

Not the same boat

The D.C. suburb in which I grew up is commonly known for its aging white hippies clad in tie-dye, its enthusiastic environmentalism, and its year-round Sunday Farmers’ Market full of free-range, fair trade, organic, vegan, local, and not to mention expensive fare. However a few years ago, a new nonprofit formed to start a second farmer’s market for a majorly different part of our community. This summer market recruits more diverse vendors, many of whom are immigrants who grow produce in their suburban yards or have started their own food businesses. And it also caters to a different demographic. The shoppers are mostly immigrants too, hailing from Latin America and Asia. Those with SNAP and WIC benefits, formerly known as food stamps, can double their government food and nutrition assistance tokens by using them at the market.

In ninth grade, I began volunteering with the Crossroads Farmers’ Market, co-leading a cooking club for elementary schoolers in which we used fresh ingredients from the market. During the summers, I spent many Wednesdays at the market running a kids’ table with produce-related crafts and games. For lunch I would alternate between Nancia’s Antojitos, El Sol pupusas, and spicy Indonesian dishes. Nancia always worked the grill in a tank top which quickly became damp with sweat, making me thankful that I only had to sit in the hot sun and muggy air and not stand in front of an additional heat source. I never pitied Nancia though, not in the way that I felt bad for the Indonesian women who stood in front of their hot stoves in the thick summer air in black hijabs.

When I found the stereotypical trope of Islam’s oppression of women weaseling its way into my thoughts, I had to check myself. I am almost certain these women cover their heads by choice. And who am I to speculate? But I couldn’t help but think about the oppressive imposition of the veil in Iran during the Islamic Revolution, and the subsequent movement of women rejecting the headscarf as political protest. I knew that that political history probably had little relevance to these women’s religious identity, but I still wondered, would these women like to remove their headscarves too, if not just to cool off?

Though this cultural encounter was observational and impersonal, I quickly learned to examine my expression of feminist ideals and to never assume other women express their desire for equality the way I do. Yes, we are all women, but that does not mean we necessarily desire the same things when it comes to advocating for our gender. I rebel against gender oppression by wearing less, by embracing my body hair, by using my appearance as a public statement. But that is inherently tied to my cultural upbringing, and that does not mean every woman uses her appearance the way I do. I also reminded myself that many Muslim women use the headscarf to assert their feminine identity. As a woman, I felt a concern for these other people who share an aspect of my identity, but my concern was unnecessary, and unhelpful. I incorrectly assumed a connection and projected my desires for these women unfairly.

June Jordan learned a similar lesson when she encountered other women on her vacation in “Report from the Bahamas, 1982”. Although gender identity placed her in the same group as Olive the housekeeper, the sandwich shop employee, and the street vendor, she realized that they were not truly connected. She writes, “So far as I can see, the usual race and class concepts of connection, or gender assumptions of unity, do not apply very well. I doubt that they ever did… And if unity on the basis of sexual oppression is something natural, then why do women, the majority people on the planet, still have a problem? (46)” I think Jordan and I both found that a single, boiled-down identity label is never enough of a bond to assume similar experiences and ideas. We women can still have conflicting beliefs, or conflicting ideas about how to act upon shared beliefs. We are never truly in the same boat because our identities are multifaceted, and our cultural identities influence how we express other parts of our identities. Like Jordan who finds meaningful connection across identities, I must challenge myself to look beyond broad labels, find true commonalities, and learn how to reconcile differences.