Tag Archives: Germaine Greer

A Letter to the former Prime Minister


Louise hails from Queensland and Studies at the University of Queensland. She is the NUS Queensland State Environment Officer. She is a collector of tee-shirts and missing memories. However she is yet to learn how to vacate a shopping trolley without falling over. 

Dear Julia

Thank you.

I’m sorry that your prime ministership coincided with the worst of the national discourse. I’m sorry that as you paved the way, Tony Abbott, Alan Jones, and Howard Sattler tried to block the path for women. Even Germaine Greer was part of the blockade. I’m sorry that so many people gave credence to these people. It’s not much, but some of us cried and screamed and ranted. I’m sorry that we couldn’t destroy the joint. I’m sorry that our fight wasn’t limited to arguing with internet trolls. I’m sorry that we had to refute views published in the mainstream media just as often as we had to campaign to have a page removed from Facebook.

The depth of my sadness on Wednesday night was surprising to me. Honestly, I wasn’t your biggest fan in a policy sense. But, I wanted the opportunity to judge you on your policies – an opportunity which was consistently denied to me, and every other Australian. We wasted so much time talking about your shoes. As my housemates will contend, I spend enough time talking about my own. After we’d finished discussing your hair, your glasses, your clothes and your body, there were no column inches left to analyse your legacy. I wanted the Australian public to discuss why your government was wrong to process asylum seekers offshore. I wanted a national celebration when you introduced the legislation for the NDIS. Instead, we got endless speculation about whether or not your tears were authentic.  

Once some blokes decided that you were ‘illegitimate’ as a prime minister, the rest of the bullshit flowed faster than twitter on a Q&A night. We know that 17 of Australia’s prime ministers first ascended to the top job after a party room spill or a vote of no confidence. Though your company in this respect includes Menzies, Curtin and Keating, you were the first to be labelled illegitimate. Menzies and Curtin, the most celebrated prime ministers from either side of politics, led minority governments for a time. Yet, we remember them as Australian icons, free from the indignity of being called illegitimate. Maybe 1940s Australia had a better comprehension of the Westminster system, or maybe 2010 Australia simply couldn’t resist the pervasive lure of misogyny to accept you as PM.

I will never accept the idea that Australia is not ready for a female PM. It gives us an out. It implies that only an advanced society could countenance the idea of a woman in charge. Those who peddle this line use some of my favourite things about Australia, to prosecute an argument which crumbles under the most superficial of scrutiny. We’re larrikins and bogans, blokes and sheilas. We abhor pretention and snobbery. We’d prefer to watch the big men fly at the G than spend the evening at the opera. But accepting a woman in the top job is not a matter of altering our national character. We don’t have to pretend to be something we’re not. We can, simultaneously, embrace female leadership and our own brand of national kulcha. Let us never say “a place like ‘Straya is incapable of keeping our misogyny in check. Sorry ladies.” That’s absolute crap.

It’s important for us to acknowledge the shit you put up with. Equally, though, it is imperative that we recall the progress you made. Thank you for calling out sexism and misogyny in our national parliament. We still refer to it as ‘that speech’. Some of my friends claimed to have given up on politics. They saw that video and changed their minds. Finally, we had a prime minister who told the nation that she wasn’t going to put up with it anymore, and we didn’t have to cop it either. You inspired us to deliver our own version of that speech. We have had far too many opportunities to follow your example, and call out sexism in our own lives  – whether we’re naming and shaming sexist cowards at NUS National Conference, or dancing at a nightclub where we’re forced to assert that no means no.

Now, I recommend that you grab a beer. Avoid reading the Australian and watching Bulldogs games (except on August 30 – they’re playing Melbourne). You’ve earned a bit of break. The rest of us can hold the fort for a while. As you said, it will be easier for the next woman and the one after that. Thanks for being the first.
Love, Louise


Louise Scarce

NUS Queensland Environment Officer 

Why Being Crude, Rude and Damn Well Inappropriate Is Something Women Should Aspire To

An opinion piece by Ruth Horsfall, Member of the UQ Womyn’s Collective

This piece was first published in Wom* News, The Zine of the UQ Wom*n’s Collective. Issue 4: Sex Through a feminist lens. Find a copy of the zine in the new ‘Zines/Collective Resources’ Tab


There are two things in life that are thoroughly enjoyable to me: a) having a good argument about something that means a lot to me and b) being deeply inappropriate when it comes to all matters of sex, bodily functions and other things that when you talk about them crudely and in graphic detail, can be uproariously fun (we can also add watching endless episodes of ‘Parks and Recreation’ and wishing I was Amy Poehler to the list of ‘Thoroughly Enjoyable Life Activities’ – but that’s for another time). If you have like-minded friends, which I am lucky enough to, this activity is probably one that happens on a daily basis – especially if you’re all having a myriad of very enjoyable health problems such as Urinary Tract Infections.

However, the greater population does not always welcome this kind of talk, and that is a problem. Women are still expected to uphold a certain degree of modesty and decorum, even amongst friends (often male) and can be made to feel shameful and humiliated talking about perfectly natural occurrences.

Obviously for such uncouth talk, there is always a time and a place. I doubt the job interviewer will appreciate your monologue on how you were late because you were, to quote Cher Horowitz, ‘surfing the crimson wave (Clueless, 1995)’. However, even among close acquaintances in informal social situations, it is considered ‘icky’ or ‘gross’ if a female was to mention something personal about her body – men say, ‘we don’t want to hear about your periods, or if you’re constipated; it’s disgusting’.

They seem to enjoy stories of you having sex, in a way that a voyeur enjoys hearing a dirty story, but they shy away from specific details of a vagina, or if you experienced something like say, bleeding post-coitus. And I mean, everyone is shy and nervous in those first few months of a relationship, but you still hear of that girl who, years into her relationship, has never gone for a number two at her boyfriend’s place – I mean, god forbid that he know you have an arsehole and a functioning bowel movements, LIKE EVERYONE ELSE.

Women shouldn’t have to feel this way – it shouldn’t have to be embarrassing to talk about your body. If something you have said has made someone uncomfortable and they mention this discretely to you, that should be fine; but under no circumstances should you have to feel dirty or abnormal because someone has reacted so negatively to something you told them, possibly in confidence.

This unwillingness to know their bodies and be comfortable with the weird and wonderful things, often negatively impacts women in regards to having sex. Sex is a deeply personal activity and if something unexpected happens, and the partner isn’t willing to address or discuss it, it can be incredibly traumatic. Often you just need to be able to laugh about it, and women shouldn’t be made to feel like lesser people.

Talking about sex brings almost as much joy as the act itself and can go a long way to reassuring each other that you’re perfectly normal – it’s like when you finally got the courage to talk to your friend about masturbation and were shocked (and pleasantly surprised) to discover they did it too. Derision from men towards women who are comfortable talking about their bodily functions, sex and how much they enjoy it, reeks of the old adage, ‘women should be seen and not heard’.

Men are still confronted and deeply intimidated by women who are open about their sexuality. Just last week, Fung (2012) wrote about how American talk back radio host Rush Limbaugh (a man so hideous I hate to even type his name) called Georgetown University law student Sandra Fluke a ‘slut’, ‘prostitute’ and suggested if the government were to pay for her Pill that she should have to film herself having sex and put it online for viewing purposes – after she made public her support for government funded insurance that would cover free contraception. He is not alone. His sentiment was echoed by Republican candidate Mitt Romney, Rick Santorum (the same Santorum who said: ”[Contraception] is not OK. It’s a licence to do things in a sexual realm that is counter to how things are supposed to be.” – The Age) and a number of other conservatives.

Men like Limbaugh are not even really worth our time because they are so old-fashioned and cruel-hearted towards any sort of minority, let alone women, that their perspective will never be changed – but it is a sad indictment of society that they are allowed to say those things and indicates that there is still simmering antagonism towards female sexual freedom. Not only that, women who state that they enjoy sex, and have sex frequently, are STILL humiliated and stigmatised in this outdated manner.

On a more hopeful note, last Sunday, arguably the most well-known feminist of our time, Germaine Greer, spoke at ‘The F-Word’ in Sydney, about all things feminism. Sarah McDonald attended and wrote a follow up article in The Daily Life about why women should be more difficult. After observing Greer on Sunday evening (and probably for years before that), McDonald noted what most of us are already aware of – Greer is incredibly controversial. And she is controversial because she refuses to pander to anyone’s opinion but her own – and in the author’s words: ‘She genuinely doesn’t care if she annoys, alienates or threatens men. Or women. And in not caring she shows us true liberation’.

What Greer speaks of is patriarchal repression, which still sadly reverberates with women – a belief that they should always be pleasing and compliant. As a result, she believes (and so should we) that women should be ‘difficult’ – and being difficult is talking about your period even though people may think you’re disgusting, being difficult is wanting to discuss the gross noises vaginas make when you have sex and being difficult may just be not shaving your legs, because you honestly just don’t care.

Talking about these sorts of personal and confronting issues may not be everyone’s cup of tea, but no woman should ever have to feel ashamed or humiliated in any capacity simply because she has chosen to vocalise about something relevant to her, something she may have been working up the courage to talk about for a while.

Openness breeds more openness, and the more wildly spread the message that ‘talking about your bits is cool, kids!’ is, the more comfortable women can all be with their bodies, the things it puts them through and most importantly, being able to enjoy sex on your own terms. It leads to better sex and stronger relationships and (hopefully) the proliferation of hilarious terms such as ‘lady boner’, which is something all women deserve.