I would like to pay my respects to the owners of the land, the Jagera and Turrbal peoples, upon which I reside, and their elders past, present and emerging. I would like to acknowledge that sovereignty was never ceded, and that, even today, I actively benefit from the impacts of the colonisation of so-called Australia. I stand with the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander communities in their ongoing struggle for justice, liberation, equality and sovereignty. Always was, always will be.

Dear young and future feminists;

I remember when I was emerging from my nestled cocoon of white, middle-class privilege and starting to learn about the world, about feminism, about justice, equality and liberation.

I remember the day I first verbalised my identity as a feminist – and the slurs that flew my way from children in the schoolyard upon hearing the word aloud.

I remember (in the days before ready access to the internet – and, where it did exist, dial up broadband speeds in rural Queensland) searching for the stories of feminism – its histories, its challenges, its ideologies, its beliefs, its leaders – in the shelves of my school library.

And I remember turning over and over in my hands the first ‘feminist’ book I ever read: The Female Eunuch by Germaine Greer (the many challenges with Germaine Greer is a topic for another post). It had been hidden in the dusty back shelves of the school library, but its cover and dog-eared pages were well-used. Too scared to ever borrow it out (mostly because of the naked body on the cover – what would the 80 year old librarian think!), I returned to the library every lunch time over the course of several weeks to devour each page, hidden in semi-darkness. The crinkled and torn pages under my fingers felt like a secret: there were other feminists in this school, past and present, who had done the same as me, hiding in the back corner of the library and reading the only feminist book on offer.

Whilst far from a ground-breaking text (it was for the 1970s when first released, but I was reading it in the early 2000s), for a young person growing up in rural Queensland, reading The Female Eunuch in the back of a school library was radical.

And it spurred a hunger inside me for more.

As a young feminist growing up rurally in the early 2000s, feminist texts and access to them was limited – there were white, middle class memoirs of activism over wage inequality, or books focused on ‘empowering you to do anything!’. There were biographies of white, women politicians with campaign budgets larger than the income I will likely earn over my lifetime, or picture books about ‘equality’ (but never mentioning the word feminism).

So, I worked with what I had, and read what I could. But, some of the key readings that I engaged in back when there were no other options, are still readings I see young and future feminists engaging in today – in this age of the internet, of large-scale (and radical) libraries, of book exchanges and of co-ops, and in this age of intersectional feminism, why are the same, tired texts being used as introductions to feminism?

So, young and future feminists, I pose for you here the five key readings that constructed my journey into feminism (readings which, if I read today, I would argue aren’t actually that feminist in our modern construction), and the texts which you should replace them with:

1. Replace The Female Eunuch by Germaine Greer with Revolting Prostitutes: The Fight for Sex Workers’ Rights by Molly Smith & Juno Mac

Written by sex workers and speaking from the context of the global sex worker rights movement, this book explores feminism as situated within the context of sex work, and how migration, borders, work and resistance to white supremacy interact with the movement.

2. Replace The Vagina Monologues by Eve Ensler with Every Day is a Good Day: Reflections by Contemporary Indigenous Women edited by Wilma Mankiller

To replace Eve Ensler (one known for disenfranchising, stealing from and speaking over Indigenous women) with a collection of reflections by Indigenous women is evident of where intersectional feminism is at presently, and where the future of the feminist movement is heading: back into the hands of First Nations and Indigenous women across the globe. This collection of stories from 19 artists, lawyers, ranchers, doctors and educators provides a glimpse into their lives with discussions about the land, to government, to love to family.

3. Replace Half the Sky: Turning Oppression into Opportunity for Women Worldwide by Nicholas Kristof and Sheryl WuDunn with Rules for Revolutionaries: How Big Organising Can Change Everything by Becky Bond and Zack Exley

Whilst not strictly a feminist text, Rules for Revolutionaries does what Half the Sky couldn’t: it provides tangible skills, techniques and actions for intersectional, feminist organising towards a global revolution (whilst also avoiding the whorephobia, racism and white saviourism evident in Kristof’s work). Readable by those who are professional community organisers through to those who have never heard of the term, Rules for Revolutionaries avoids the tropes common of the genre, and instead provides techniques to create substantial social, political and economic change.

4. Replace Lean In: Women, Work and the Will to Lead by Sheryl Sandberg with Stop Fixing Women: Why building fairer workplaces is everybody’s business by Catherine Fox

Whereas Lean In taught us to get nannies, embrace capitalism and just work harder okay!, Stop Fixing Women argues the opposite: insisting that women fix themselves won’t fix the system, because the system was built to the benefit of men.

5. Replace The Beauty Myth by Naomi Wolf with Cannibal by Safiya Sinclair

Whilst leaving a lot to be desired, there is nothing fundamentally wrong with The Beauty Myth, but times have changed and new voices have arisen. A book of poetry, Cannibal explores Sinclair’s Jamaican childhood and history, race relations in America, womanhood, beauty, otherness and exile.

Take these new readings, spread them wide, and dog-ear their pages in the back of your library. Give hope to that other young feminist who is reading them during the lunch breaks when you aren’t.

In solidarity and with love, joy, hope and belief.

Yours always,

Madeline