Poles Apart by Terry Fallis

books is extremely difficult, even one as captivating and scintillating as the tome I would write about gender equality. No bookstores would stock it. No one would know about it. I’m pretty sure my parents would enjoy the book. Hang on, come to think of it, I’m really not sure my parentswould even read the book, let alone enjoy it. So, no. What else have I got?
    It took some web surfing for the idea to land. I probably should have thought of it sooner. I turned it over in my mind, considering the opportunity, examining it from various angles. Hmmm, it might just work. Why not a blog? Yes, a blog. I could write a blog exploring women’s equality. Blogs are increasingly popular and influential, drawing a growing number of subscribers. It was a nimble platform that would allow me to make timely comment on current events and related issues in the news. A blog. Yes, that might be just the ticket.
    You might be wondering what made me think I could write blog posts that would be of interest to anyone. There were other feminist bloggers out there. Lots of them. Lots of really good ones. What could I contribute that was different, more compelling, more meaningful, more effective, more powerful than what already existed in the online world? Well, the obvious short answer was, I had no freakin’ idea. I really didn’t. I certainly wasn’t convinced I had anything more or anything different to offer than that which was already out there. But I wanted to try. I felt I needed to try. I was eager to recapture the passion of my university years, when I felt I belonged to something. And I wanted to staunch the feeling of drift and ennui that accompanied a career that had not panned out the way I’d wanted. I was motivated again. I feared that if I didn’t leap now, my rekindled ardour might flag. I needed to act. In the end, the idea was rooted in my desire toget off the sidelines and do something. It was really to satisfy me. I had no expectations that anyone would read my blog, let alone consider it a worthy contribution to the feminist ferment. I just wanted to do it, to do something, even if it were just for me.
    My mind turned again to Beverley Tanner as the digits on my bedside clock approached 4:30. I decided to try to take a page from her playbook. I liked the notion of humour as a weapon in the fight. I would try to leaven anger with humour. There still wasn’t a great deal of “funny” in the women’s movement. I’d try to laugh at patriarchy to weaken it. I’d write short, thoughtful, balanced, reasonable, readable posts about a range of equality issues in the hopes of building support among men and women who perhaps didn’t think of themselves as feminists, even though they probably were. The idea would be to motivate the silent majority of feminists to do more than privately support equal rights. So in each post, I’d try to have some kind of a simple, personal call to action. In my wildest dreams, I wanted my writing to spur even a modest behavioural change in my readers, or at least cause them to think, if only for a moment or two. That was the extent of the plan. It was clearly an “easier said than done” moment, or perhaps even an “are you crazy, you’ll be crucified” moment.
    But do I sign my name to it? Do I shove myself forward as the blogger? This wasn’t easy. I went back and forth on it. I knew that in the blogosphere – yes, that’s what they call it – the idea of transparency was important. On the other hand, I didn’t want the fact that I was a man writing a feminist blog to overshadowwhat I was writing. Without going all Marshall McLuhan on you, as the medium, I didn’t want to become the message. Besides, the anatomy of the blogger shouldn’t be important or even relevant. Rather, it’s all about the words, the message, the cause. Secondly, I truly believed that a man should not be seen to be out front on feminism. That would be just like a man to try to take over the women’s