Nakajima-san’s inclusivity

After Nakajima-san’s in-class talk on her own social movement history last Tuesday, I felt reassured of feminism in Japan. Her new approach to women’s lib, or “middle-aged lib,” appealed to me immensely. She seemed to have pinpointed an aspect of women’s lib I had always questioned. In general, feminist and women’s lib movements (though perhaps I should address each wave separately) always impressed me as powerful and inspirational, but also as somehow disconnected from the women around me and the girls with whom I grew up. Perhaps I’m opening myself up to criticism if I put it this way, but mainstream women’s lib seemed almost self-interested—as if the movement itself were the end, and not the implications of the movement on the wider population. Therefore, when Nakajima-san explained young women’s liberation as personal freedom, she critically expressed my misgivings regarding women’s lib, which I had trouble recognizing. Core groups invested in such movements are passionate in their beliefs, but I had always been skeptical of how these movements would reach out to “everyday women,” for lack of a better label. In Japan, I especially felt this, as I worked and went out with people uninvolved in politics, activism, or academia. The only public feminist figures would be the butts of jokes and bashings from both men and women on TV (I’m thinking of someone like Tajima Yoko on “Terebi Takkuru”). Hearing of Nakajima-san’s success in changing the ramen commercial (“she cooks, he eats”) and NHK’s slogan (“news is only for men, women don’t read”), I could envision how such changes would have touched women with seemingly apolitical lives revolving around daily acts of cooking and reading the paper.

Nakajima-san’s approach to issues always seems to emphasize inclusion. She extends spheres of both accountability and vulnerability to the widest circles in order to cover as many liable groups as possible. Her stance on accomodating the most vulnerable is also a welcome addition to a Habermasian attitude of inclusion and tolerance. Human rights should hold as its standard, the most vulnerable group; women shouldn’t receive special treatment, but men should instead share in domestic roles; and gender-based discrimination is a problem, but workplace inequality in general is the underlying problem.

Another aspect of her overall outlook that struck me was how much her childhood influences shaped her philosophy and activism. From her mother’s words to the textbook on the new Constitution, it was apparent how much her past affected her. She also pointed out that the majority of the women involved in the 15 Women Law Suit received education under the same textbook, implying the strength of the textbooks’ impact. Considering the new textbooks and the renewed nationalism incorporated in today’s Japanese schools, the lasting effects of childhood upbringings and lessons bode ugliness for the future. Tomoko and I recently discussed how our feelings of almost instant repulsion from patriotic or nationalistic rhetoric and ideas probably stem from the educational atmosphere of our generation. The lack of these notions and practices had unknowingly molded our stances on the present controversy on the Fundamental Law of Education revisions. Nakajima-san’s history of activism and dedication to peace also reaffirmed my belief in importance of the Fundamental Law.