This post is a part of my “Out of the Kitchen” weekly column at The Progressive Playbook in which various news and pop culture items will be examined through a feminist lens.
Birth control access controversies this week have given me enough fodder to write feminist blogs for years. Well that and Chris Brown. I've decided to rise above that bull and focus on something else right now so that I don't blow a gasket. That something else is the topic of last name changes.
I feel like this topic is pretty well worn territory and can sometimes be a big can of worms but regardless, I thought I'd throw in my two cents on the whole thing. For some background, almost three years ago, I got married and kept my last name. The subsequent three years have proven to me that while feminism has made significant strides in this area, it's still a highly contested subject. (Here I'd like to put the disclaimer that this entire discussion is super heterosexist, as my objection to name changes rests on the patriarchy of the tradition of male-female pairings. Plus, same sex couples are still denied their right to marry in most places.)
I guess before I go on, I might as well detail why I made the choice I did. For me, it was a process. I married Mr. Nerdy Feminist after being together for 6 years. Those 6 years were a critical time of learning for me and I went from a teen who was marginally interested in justice issues to a full blow feminist. My feelings about my last name corresponded with this transition into my full political identity; I started out as someone who didn't necessarily
want to change my last name but figured I someday would, to someone who thought I'd hyphenate, to fully against the concept.
For me, if I would have changed my last name, there would be no way to remain critical of mindlessly patriarchal traditions if my own actions did not support this. It would be flat out hypocrisy. And I couldn't see any
good reason to change my last name.