Avoiding Bra-Burning Bonfires

The new Harvard woman, empowered by her gender, marches confidently into the basement of Canaday Hall, ready to take advantage of all that is Harvard’s new women’s center. Breezing past the cushy couches, the big screen television, and the office space complete with a speedy wireless network, she strides into the state-of-the-art kitchen, equipped with ovens to serve any baking need. But rather than whip up a batch of gooey homemade chocolate-chip cookies, she brazenly hurls her brassiere into the oven. The kitchen smells not of delightful baked goods, but of burning nylon.

Then she checks her watch, and—what luck!—she’s just in time for the weekly workshop on releasing the most animal of her sexual desires—the ones that have been squelched by all the years of oppressive male chauvinism, obviously.

Outside in the Yard, a well-groomed woman passes by Canaday Hall and hears the moans emanating from the workshop taking place in the basement below. She pauses to consider attending, but quickly dismisses the idea—she wouldn’t fit in down there. Smooth-legged and still wearing a bra, she fears she would be chewed out by the other ladies in the workshop.

As the dreams of the women’s advocacy groups are realized at Harvard, the new women’s center runs the risk of falling prey to this dystopic vision of radical feminism, which will inevitably alienate so many of the women the center is meant to serve. A major purpose of a women’s center must be to empower moderate women, not the feminazis who already take their modern conception of womanhood to an extreme. Erring on the side of this extremism are many of the Harvard women’s groups leading the women’s center charge. Rather than allowing these already vocal groups to call the shots in the development of the center, the College should encourage mainstream students to articulate their visions for the project. That means doing more than taking a poll of a measly 219 students, as the Undergraduate Council did, many of whom no doubt were members of these organizations.

The most legitimate reason to build a center specifically for women—dubious or not—is to educate students of both genders about issues facing women today. Finding a moderate voice, competing with men in the classroom and in the workforce, reconciling motherhood and careers, and learning to coexist with men, and even women, of different viewpoints—these should form the agenda of the center.

If this reasonable agenda is lost in the propaganda of lady-crazies—which tells women that liberation revolves around sex, that childbirth is best reserved for test tubes, and that the key to being successful women is to bash men—Harvard will suffer a great embarrassment.

The women’s center should be a place where students can go to hear female role models speak about sociopolitical issues—specific to women or not. It should be a place where students can receive counseling about sexual and health issues—eating disorders, mental wellness, and safe sex. It should be a place where students can go to just hang out, to retreat from the crunch of Harvard Yard.

Moreover, since the women’s center will effectively displace student organizations that currently use Canaday Hall’s basement, Harvard cannot afford to leave a void in student space. All student groups—regardless of the sex of their members—should have access to the resources of the center. The center should be a place that welcomes all of Harvard. Although by its very nature a women’s center caters more specifically to the needs of the female student body, the center’s tone should not alienate the men of the College.

Rather than buoying the radical feminism of the free sex era, proponents of the women’s center should strive to create an accessible and innovative hub for student discourse and activity. A successful women’s center will cater to the wide range of female and male needs–a place where the ovens can be used to both burn bras and bake cookies.

Lucy M. Caldwell ’09, a Crimson editorial editor, lives in Wigglesworth Hall. Ramya M. Parthasarathy ’09, a Crimson editorial editor, lives in Stoughton Hall.