I remember the first time I was outed as a feminist. My friends Anna, Mary, and I were sitting in the high school library, and Mary made some sort of crack about, “those awful feminists,” laughing at her own observation, and smiling knowingly as if we’d agree.

Crickets chirped. There was about 30 seconds of uncomfortable chair shifting. Then Anna gingerly (because sometimes you need to have a soft touch with someone who you think is being a complete dummy) and perhaps with a slight tinge of devilish satisfaction,  said, “You know Genny is a feminist.” 

I was a high school junior in 2007. Slightly before the question, “Are women funny?” was asked for the first time, and years away from when Beyonce would declare herself a FEMINIST in capital letters. There was no discussion in my classrooms about equal rights, there were no girls creating homemade signs telling…