My struggle within “older brother” culture in labor unions

 

While being active in the women’s council with the female workers in the factory, I became aware of my identity as a woman, and came to see my life and my situation with different eyes. As a female temporary laborer working in a large factory, several times a day I had to make choice that I wouldn’t have needed to if I were a man, and had to struggle and worry endlessly about those choices.

 

From how to respond when male permanent workers told dirty jokes, to how to react to the seemingly-amazed looks that bombarded me when I went to eat at the cafeteria (especially when I shaved my head—nearly everyone staring at my chest to check my gender!). And what to say to the female union manager who asked me—and no male workers—to serve porridge to a male manager who had just broken a hunger strike. Even—because the women’s bathroom was so far (and there were far fewer of them than men’s bathrooms)—whether to go to the bathroom now or hold on a little longer.

 

When I first set foot in the factory, if I had been charged with working in labor management, I would have wanted to work in organizing, and I was fairly confident about my abilities. When I had heard criticism about “patriarchy within activist culture” gender-role discrimination, such as men being in charge of politics and organizing while women were in charge of general affairs and accounting, I hadn’t thought about it as my problem, to be honest. I had considered it the complaining of female activists who lacked devotion and skill.

 

However, after spending three years on the scene, when I actually was suggested for the position of organizing director, I hesitated. Company management also looked down on female leaders; masculine energy was needed to deal with them, and so female union members, too, wished for a male representative to help when something happened.

 

Of the four vice directors at that time, I was the only woman, and once when someone died those three men went to the funeral without even asking me to come. So-called “politics” and “diplomacy,” considered important in activism, were men’s territory.

 

It was a depressing thing, second-guessing myself every day in a competitive, results-oriented movement climate that prioritized masculine values and strengths.

 

Was it Jeong Hui-jin, author of The Challenge of Feminism, who said that Korean men don’t know how to deal with women in the public sphere? There was no place for me—someone who was neither an “older brother” nor a “younger brother”—among the male activists at the large factory, who were entrenched in “older brother” culture. I even experienced a form of violence in my relationships with some permanent-worker male activists when I first engaged in on-site activism.

 

To me, their way of expressing fondness was a kind of violence. They would call and ask to come to my house when they were drunk, sent me text messages out of the blue saying they loved me, and when I threatened to complain they didn’t care.   They didn’t acknowledge me as an equal partner in activism. Between becoming a sexual target, maintaining personal relationships only if I put up with their sexual jokes, or just being looked down on… not having a relationship with them at all became most comfortable for me. As it went on like that, the sphere of my activism became increasingly limited to women’s labor organizing.

 

Female laborers who say “sexual assault is not my problem”

 

As I got to know the feminists in the organization to which I belong and the activists with the Korea Sexual Violence Relief Center, I realized that the worries I had were not mine alone. I was able to put a name to the wounds I had. I was freed from the self-censorship that suggested that the pain I was suffering was mine alone because I was overly-sensitive that it was all too subjective, and I accepted the existence of the pain and wounds as they were. That was yet another gift that feminism gave me.

 

My feminism wasn’t all brilliant successes, though. The women’s council that I made with older coworkers ended up dissolving after only a few years, during the strenuous process of the temporary-workers union being integrated into the permanent-workers union. To be honest, even when we made the women’s council, because within the union there had been an attitude of “we don’t oppose it, but we’re not interested in it, either,” as time passed, the women’s council became the only organ that took on women’s problems, including having full responsibility for resolving sexual assault issues, and became increasingly marginalized.

 

Our most serious problem, however, was that even female workers weren’t interested in “women’s problems.”

 

There was almost no wage or retirement-age discrimination in comparison with the male workers, and it seemed more urgent to narrow the gap between permanent and temporary workers than that between men and women. At high-level organizations like the Korean Confederation of Trade Unions, official “women’s issues”—work/family balance, workplace sexual harassment, or maternity protections like childcare leave–were focused on white-collar women, and weren’t applicable to our situation. At businesses with many women in their 20s and 30s, problems with sexual harassment and replacement labor during childcare leave sprung up, but those kinds of businesses were a minority.

 

We once conducted a survey in order to make a list of demands for a collective agreement with management, and female union members in their 40s and 50s always skipped over the section about sexual assault, saying, “This has nothing to do with me.”

 

That’s how it was. In fact, married female workers enjoyed dirty jokes even more than male workers, and told them to relieve stress. (One lady who was very active in the women’s council had as her nickname “Porn Site.”) In this way, because of the difference between unmarried women’s sexuality and married women’s sexuality, one of the most vivid of women’s problems—sexual violence—seemed to middle-aged women to be an issue of “watching one’s mouth” instead of one of sexual self-determination.

 

It was very difficult to tie together the demands of women who had different experiences according to their ages and life contexts as the “universal” demands of women. Moreover, at a time when defending the union amidst the extreme suppression from company management was paramount, there was no possibility of dragging outside (?!) issues like housework and family problems inside the factory walls

 

Any way we looked at it, it surpassed the question of what issues to deal with and became a matter of needing to reformulate the movement in every way, from organizational culture to the spirit of the activism. The mere fact of women workers being greater in number or women’s issues being dealt with more was not nearly enough to overthrow the patriarchal power system within the movement. No—to be honest, there was no leisure to consider what a feminist change in the movement would be.

 

A feminism that taught how to face difference

 

Unable to get a positive response from female union members (the actual people involved), women’s council members faced a dilemma, and the women’s council activities began to lose vitality. Even in the temporary workers’ union, the women became scattered among established factions.

 

At that time, the reasons for this situation weren’t clear to me. I only felt a mix of love and hate towards the scattered older women. I was also frustrated by the female workers’ lack of interest in “women’s issues.” I thought that they wouldn’t understand these issues until their consciousness was raised.

 

But what should I have done? Even now, I’m not sure. Guilt and remorse for having left the factory and a sense of betrayal and resentment towards my female coworkers are muddled within me, and so even now, five years later, it is difficult to make a cool-headed, objective assessment. That is how wholly I threw myself into the activism, and how much I loved it.

 

After that, I worked at a women’s movement organization for a few years. It was difficult every time I faced the differences between feminists. I, who had been involved in socialist activism, bitterly hated partnerships between the government and civic groups and didn’t find any charm in activism that focused on improving institutions.

 

It was painful every time it was confirmed again how different we were. The discussion may have been enriched by our disagreements, but that was not a pleasant thing. Sometimes I had to endure a sense of isolation, or we would flush with emotion unrelated to the contents of the discussion and wound each other. The feeling that I couldn’t be part of a socialist movement or of a feminist movement, that I didn’t seem to completely belong anywhere made me feel lonely.

 

Despite that, the reason I was able to be active in the women’s movement and to live as a feminist was that feminism had made me able to accept differences within our group. I learned that the method that I clung to wasn’t the only good one, that everyone sometimes resisted, sometimes negotiated in their own lives, and that each was doing her best in her own way. (A dislike of going to the trouble of extending this understanding to men as well was another gift that feminism gave me.)

 

▲ Feminists that I met in various places supported my quest to find what my real desire was. I’m preparing to leave the city and become a farmer. No matter what kind of life I lead, though, feminism will be my default setting. (image source: pixabay)

 

Preparing to become a farmer to be where “older sisters” are

 

At present, I’m preparing to leave the city and become a farmer. I’ve long had a desire to live in nature as I’ve struggled with city life, but it took quite a while for that desire to transform into a concrete life plan.

 

Not only the woman’s organization but also feminists that I met in various places supported my quest to find what my real desire was. They helped me realize that the most important thing, before duty or necessity, was that my desires not be suppressed, and that there was meaning in the coexistence of my happiness and the community’s happiness.

 

The first condition for where I would go to farm was that it must be “a place where other women are.” Whether unmarried women, lesbian couples, or women’s gatherings, I felt there would need to be women with whom I could talk in order for me to be able to breathe freely.

 

In the future, while farming, I may be struck by ecologism, may take up and fight for agricultural issues, or may become involved in a still-different issue or problem.

 

No matter what kind of life I lead, though, feminism will be my default setting. It’s not on the level of what issue I will take up and fight for, it is already a deeply-rooted way of life for me. I will continue to live with joy as a feminist.

 

Published: June 6, 2013

Translated by Marilyn Hook

*Original article: http://ildaro.com/6364

 

◆ To see more English-language articles from Ilda, visit our English blog(https://ildaro.blogspot.com).

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