It takes a TV show to make me appreciate being a woman in the 21st century.
Watching "Mad Men" religiously every week reminds me that in my grandmother's generation, I wouldn't be writing this column. I probably wouldn't even be at a coed school if I were lucky enough to attend college.
In "Mad Men," three main characters represent the choices women had in the '60s. Joan, the head secretary of the show's ad agency, uses her sexuality to gain the only power she has. Peggy, a rising copywriter, tries to market her viewpoint as a woman in order to rise in the ranks but is looking for a career rather than a good husband. And Betty, the wife of the main character, feels trapped in her role as a suburban housewife but isn't sure what she would want as an alternative.
It's a highly stylized and symbolic show, and it obviously isn't a perfect representation of life 50 years ago. But it does remind me that sexism wasn't considered a problem because it was the norm.
Things are obviously much easier for women today than they were then. But maybe because it's easier, it's hard to call myself a feminist without being judged.
In high school, I remember making a comment that, in retrospect, I assume was confrontational because the guy in front of me turned around and snarled, "What, are you some kind of feminist?"
Seven years later, I can definitively say: Yes, I am. Feminism enabled me to pursue the education and career that I have, and I won't turn my back on it because it subjects me to a stereotype.
I don't hate men. I don't believe that every obstacle I face is because of misogyny. I believe that making the choice to be a stay-at-home mom is as valid as choosing to be a CEO. But remembering that the women who came before me had to fight much harder than I do to make the same choices, the least I can do is take a stand for those opportunities and against the sexism that still exists.
Recently, a fellow journalist - a man - told me that he thought being a journalist would be easier as a woman. People would tell me more, he said, because I had nice legs.
I responded that while that might be true on some level, I don't wear miniskirts to interviews.
He was completely oblivious that the idea he had just expressed is exactly what makes it difficult to be a woman in any profession. Fifty years after women's liberation, there's still this notion that if you're successful as a woman, it must be partly because you're pretty. If you're not pretty, it must be because you're aggressive in a way that some might term "bitchy."
I wish it were accepted that women still have the occasional battle to fight, that being a feminist isn't a theoretical superiority complex.
I've worked hard to get to where I am in my life and career, and I don't believe I've been overly hampered (or helped) by sexism. But even though it's not a struggle for me the way it is for the characters I watch every week on TV, feminism is still relevant to my life, even if it's only fighting for the right to call myself a feminist.
Hilary Lehman is a journalism senior. Her column appears on Wednesdays.
