We shouldn’t need a holiday to be good feminists or to care about gender justice.
International Women’s Day and Women’s History Month are dedicated to commemorating women and their achievements, yet these celebrations have essentially become Hallmark holidays in the same way Christmas and Valentine’s Day have.
To some degree, all holidays are symbolic rather than substantive, and that’s exactly why it doesn’t make much sense to funnel serious social issues into an arbitrary day or month.
Women’s History Month, similar to Black History Month and Pride Month, has also become largely a capitalist production. Companies love to take advantage of these months — they have latched onto these holidays to show their support and progressiveness by shoving themed merchandise down our throats.
Of course, some of these businesses are self-aware enough to allocate a percentage of their profits from this one month to relevant charities.
In that way, through financial support and fundraising, these holidays can and do make a tangible difference. Over the course of just one day, six figures were raised for female-focused charities on IWD last year, according to the organization’s website.
But that financial support is not sustainable. Although focusing on overlooked achievements and donating money is necessary, uplifting and supporting women — or any minority group — should be normalized. It should be an everyday undertaking, rather than allocated to a specialized holiday.
So, yes, donations may peak around March 8, but where will the support be afterward?
IWD and these months don’t do much beyond encouraging donations, either. They can’t replace actively educating ourselves or breaking down our own implicit biases and internalized misogyny.
If these holidays are to make an impact, they could start by emphasizing education. We could celebrate by teaching children starting at a young age, as well as adapting the curriculum for these days in grades K-12.
But the problem extends beyond how impactful IWD and Women’s History Month should be.
More often than not, the hard-to-swallow discussions and panels disappear as soon as the clock hits midnight on the last day of the month. The close examinations of our history and the avid, vocal social media calls for equality are replaced by the next wave, the next trend.
From February to March, the distinction is especially stark.
As a result of this problematic mindset, we begin treating these months as a set timeframe in which we must cram in a year’s worth of advocacy work and then promptly shed ourselves of any responsibility when the 30 days are up. The discussions that take place may not even be productive — rather, performative, placating, vague or circular.
There’s no way to build on these important topics either because we jump from one month to the next. Subsequently, there is less emphasis on intersectional conversations, and our approach to activism may be stunted by such simplified ways of thinking.
We are each a mosaic of identities — not just a woman, not just Black, not just gay. These issues don’t exist in isolation outside of one another.
If we can’t combine all these separate dialogues, we are ill-equipped to come up with solutions that are reflective of issues real people face.
At the same time, there’s no practical way to address all of these issues simultaneously, 365 days of the year. Important information and voices would get lost in the noise. It’s necessary to have the public focus on one issue at a time so everyone has their chance to be recognized and appreciated.
Frankly, it’s fun to have points throughout the year where different parts of your identity are celebrated and you are able to support other people in and outside of your community. And it’s equally as empowering to have a month to see achievement from groups that are normally underrepresented across academic and white-collar fields.
In the end, this one day or one month is not the end-all-be-all. It’s not about expecting more from this holiday.
Rather, it’s about expecting more from ourselves outside of the holiday. If we can pursue justice and have these discussions — even performatively — for a month, why can’t we have them for a year or a lifetime?
