Zoya Patel | Sheryl Sandberg told us to lean in. Ten years later, is it time to lean out?

Before Lean In was published, there was an entire generation of women who had been lingering in the grey area between the strident feminism of the 60s and 70s, and the "grrl power" of the 90s, wondering whether feminism was still relevant.

Lean In, and indeed seminal events like Julia Gillard's prime ministership, triggered many women of my generation, and those one generation older than us really confronting the reality of gender inequality in our own experiences, and starting to actively engage with a feminist identity.

I know this, because I spent my 20s as a feminist activist at university, and as a feminist writer while working in the women's sector.

Whilst Sandberg's thesis - that women need to be more comfortable to harness their courage and ambition to lean into opportunities, even where there may be discomfort or resistance to doing so - has been rightfully critiqued for focusing on personal action instead of dismantling systems of inequality, there was something revolutionary about it at the time.

It provided an alternative way of thinking about gender inequality, and rebranded women taking action against it as being ambitious and brave, instead of bossy and angry.

Yes, it was too simplistic in origin, but over the years the concept of leaning in has become a hallmark of contemporary liberal feminism, and is applied to other sites of gender inequality outside of the workforce.

We started leaning in to activism, to calling out patriarchy and prejudice. We leaned into taking up space, and encouraging other women to do so. For some, this was a massive reclaiming of confidence and power.

But in 2023, 10 years after Lean In was published, it's officially time for us to start considering where we might need to lean out to drive further feminist gains.

The growth in popularity of feminist identity has been incredibly positive, and has seen mainstreaming of feminist principles around things like equal pay, access to childcare, reproductive health and rights and addressing unconscious bias.

But with these wins for the majority - in this case, middle class cisgendered heterosexual women - it's now time for feminists to focus on gaining those same rights for the marginalised in our community, who are the most impacted by gender inequality now.

I'm talking about trans women, about women of colour, working class and poor women, women living with disabilities - those with complex identities and circumstances that prevent them from benefiting from the broader wins that have been made for women whose primary barrier to success was binary gender inequality, uncomplicated by intersecting issues.

But unfortunately, instead of seeing a shift in perspective, and the decentering of issues that affect middle-class, able-bodied, cis and white women, those voices continue to take up the majority of space in feminist conversations.

We see this again and again, when marginalised voices try and leverage feminism in their activism. Just look at trans and gender diversity issues.

Somehow, a conversation that should be about supporting trans people to be able to live authentically and free from discrimination in society, has instead been derailed by cis women.

Instead of talking about the significant barriers trans men and women face in accessing healthcare, in their legal rights to transition, the discrimination they face in workplaces, schools and health settings, we're preoccupied on what cis women think about having trans women in our public bathrooms. Or whether cis women support changes to gendered terminology in medical settings. Or whether cis women are OK with being called "cis women".

I get it - at times, as a cis woman myself, I feel confronted by changes in our culture that are designed to be more inclusive of trans and gender diverse people, but that directly shift the way we talk about womanhood.

I've even found myself wanting to write about these issues and it took a friend gently calling that out and pointing out to me that my perspective isn't the most important or relevant in this context, for me to realise that in this case, there is more power in creating space than there is in leaning into what little space exists.

READ MORE:

I see this same dynamic replicated when it comes to white women's reactions to racism experienced by women of colour (and have been the receiving end of white tears that centre the experience of the person being called out for racism over the woman of colour who experienced it).

I've seen it in relation to women with disability, and about women living in poverty.

In our eagerness to own feminism, we can be blind to the way we're dominating conversations with our privilege and forgetting to use that same privilege to enable marginalised and minority people to speak up instead.

So I'm calling on my fellow feminists who are enjoying the privileges that are now afforded to those of us in the majority, to recognise when you need to lean out. Lean out of spaces where your voice is dominating and overruling marginalised voices.

Lean out of the spotlight when it comes to feminist activism that needs to centre the communities most impacted.

That doesn't mean that we don't participate - but it means we show up and give our support in other ways.

Allyship in feminism isn't about losing currency, or reducing the attention given to the impact of gender inequality on the majority. It just means knowing where our attention and efforts are most needed, and what the best role is for each of us to play in those fights.