Seen.

I’m a card-carrying feminist. And with all the rhetoric surrounding this word, let’s start with a few definitions so we’re all on the same page.

Feminism: "The advocacy of women's rights on the ground of the equality of the sexes" (source).  

Note that in this definition there is no mention of hating men or burning bras. Just the simple desire for equal rights.

Patriarchy: “A system of society or government in which men hold the power and women are largely excluded from it" (source).

Hmmm…not a lot of equality for women in the patriarchy. Don’t believe our society is still patriarchal? How about the fact that 80% of the United States Congress are men (source) and half of the population is women. In other words, when it comes to representation regarding laws that affect everyone in this country, men make the majority of these decisions.

Privilege: “A special right, advantage, or immunity granted or available only to a particular person or group" (source). 

You see where I’m going with this…right?

One of the great achievements of feminism is women’s entrance into the public sphere. This began with the first-wave feminist movement – allowing women the right to cast their vote. The second-wave feminist movement worked to allow more women to enter the workforce. Now, what is essentially the third-wave of feminism, women are demanding equal pay for their work, a judicial system that believes and supports claims of sexual assault, and you know, a peaceful jog without harassment or assault.

Don’t believe this is an issue? A 2016 report from Runner’s World found that 43 percent of women experience some sort of harassment when running, while that number is just 4 percent for men. As a runner myself, I see ads for apps and devices to keep me safe while running. Do men see these same ads? Do they have these same fears? I highly doubt it. Which is why I’m somewhat incredulous of people who are not feminists: why would you want half of the population to live fearfully? Why would you not want equality?

Alas, not all people are feminists. Many see the upending of the status quo as a challenge to the power and privilege of white men – and men do not want to give up this power nor do some women who believe the power they hold derives from the patriarchy. But we are making progress: women are asserting themselves in the workforce, leading companies, running for elected office in record-breaking numbers and assuming high-power roles in all branches of our government.

Awesome, right? But I’ve been struggling with a part of feminism lately that may or may not be in my head.

I am a stay-at-home mom and I wonder: where do I fit in? Am I participating in and advancing the patriarchy? Do I not contribute to the feminist cause? Am I not achieving all I should be now that women have all of these rights? I’ve struggled with feelings of worthlessness in a society who views what I do as “easy” or as “lazy” or as not important. The lack of a paycheck confirms these feelings as our capitalist society only seems to value the dollar and views everything else as frivolous.

Recently, I found some solace in my own backyard.

I enjoy taking a quiet moment, even if it is while doing the dishes, to look at the woods behind our house and study the subtle transition of seasons. I try to look for the slow progression of change, but inevitably it seems that each season explodes suddenly from one to the next. Every spring it seems like the leaves burst forth after weeks of being just little buds. And every fall, I blink and the leaves have changed into the muted browns, yellows and occasional oranges we’ve come to know and love in the little slice of land we know as home.

But this year, I’ve noticed (and so has my husband), a vivid splash of red and orange farther back in the woods. We’ve always lamented the lack of brilliantly colored trees in our yard come fall and it seems suddenly our wish has come true. I’ve always loved brightly colored trees – in grad school a maple tree outside of the English building exploded like a firework every fall -  fiery oranges and reds cascading down its branches. At the public library where I worked, a similar maple shades a bench with a spectacular view and every fall it too put on a brilliant show making a perfect place to sit and read on a beautiful fall day. And now, it seems one of these maples is finally making its presence known in our humble backyard where only our family, and maybe a few neighbors might see its brilliance for a few weeks each year.

Although it is just as beautiful as the trees at universities or public libraries, this tree is not seen by the masses. College students will not sit under its branches and memorize facts, read assignments or even complete a writing assignment about its beauty (not that I would know anyone who has ever given their freshman composition students that assignment). Nor does it provide shade and a show to the hundreds of library patrons who visit our library every day. No, this tree is not seen by many.

Is the tree any less beautiful because only a handful of people will see its beautiful contribution to the collective forest, rather than the hundreds or thousands that view the more public trees?

Is it a coincidence that we’ve never noticed this beautiful tree in our backyard until this year, the year I decided to stay home?

My answer is no. I do not believe it is mere coincidence. Rather, I am choosing to see this tree as a perfect metaphor for my current season of life and an answer to the pressing questions of my feminist mind.

Yes, I stay home with my children. I am often the doer of laundry and the maker of dinner. I make sure the kids are signed up for school and Yes, these are primarily seen as 1950s housewife roles of that further enforce the patriarchal values of a women’s domain in the private sphere while the men do the important public sphere work.

But I can choose to use these roles to quietly fight the patriarchy. My husband does not “babysit” the kids: he is a parent just as equally as I am. On weekends, he often takes them to run errands or on a fun trip. And my kids learn by the example my husband and I set, allowing an equal opportunity for both my son and daughter to take find equality in the households they may live in one day in the future.

I can slow down and answer my children’s questions and challenge ways of thinking that already have leaked into their tiny worldviews about what girls and boys can and cannot do rather than send them to a daycare provider who may or may not address these issues.

I can choose to spend our money on items that I have researched effectively regarding their impacts on my family’s health or the environment rather than buying something that some a group of high-powered men is marketing to me. Or better yet, I can choose not to buy something as a means of ignoring the capitalist demands of the patriarchy.

I can explore creative opportunities for myself in my free time rather than worrying about keeping a clean house or having supper on the table when my husband is home.

Yes, I’m coming to terms with not being “seen” by the world at large. Like the tree in my backyard, I may not occupy a public space in which everyone can see my vivid colors, but I can illuminate my corner of the world.

I do not have to be seen. I do not have to participate in a capitalist society that still heavily favors men. I do not have to hold positions of power to dismantle the patriarchy.

And I’m giving you permission to do the same if it fits with your personality and your season of life. And I’m giving you permission to take on that full-time, high-powered job. Or run for office. Or not have kids. We need women to choose differently and take different paths because that is what feminism is all about: choice.

WE. HAVE. THE. CHOICE.