Marching through the streets of San Jose with hundreds of people who share the same vision: that women, men, and all other genders are treated as living beings with equitable rights.
A few days ago, after I had been whistled at, honked at, and called "MACHITAAAAAA", which can be translated as "blondie", I wondered to myself if feminism was even on the rise in Costa Rica. Interestingly, I've been told by Costa Ricans that the prevalence of machismo, a cultural phenomenon where men are unnecessarily proud of their masculinity and believe they are superior over women, is not as strong as other Latin American countries. If this is the case, I thought to myself, what would it be like to grow up as a female in Costa Rica?
Before I go any further, I think we should clear up what the word "feminism" even means. The majority of the time, saying the word "feminism" or saying "I am a feminist" makes people uncomfortable as their mind flashes images of bra burners from the 60's or a type of extremism where women want to rid the world of men. That couldn't be further from the truth. For me, feminism is the recognition that men are advantaged in many ways which disadvantages all other genders. Being a feminist means that I am advocating for equity between all genders and challenging the patriarchal system that plagues our world. Clearly this makes some men uncomfortable because they can no longer deny the truth. In order to create change some people have to step out of their comfort zone, sorry not sorry.
Flashforward a few days after being catcalled and questioning if there is an initiative to better society for women in Costa Rica, I was incredibly happy to be proven wrong. On March 8th, International Women's Day, I experienced not only the hope, but the fiery intention to create change for females, the LGBTQ+ community, the Indigenous peoples, and the lives of Afro-Latinos in Costa Rica.
My exchange brother and I arrived to the meeting point at a pavilion in a park across from one of the most well-known catholic churches in Costa Rica as the sun began to set. We were met with an overwhelming amount of people carrying signs and flags, playing music, and chanting. The amount of energy in this small park could have fueled the plane I took to arrive in Costa Rica. I was left speechless.
We met up with two other Tica friends and walked with men and women of all ages from around Latin America through the streets of downtown San Jose. We marched because a woman's right to a safe abortion done in a legitimate hospital is non-existent in Costa Rica. Because the right to marry the same sex is not an option here. Because the rates of domestic abuse in Costa Rica rose 33% from 2013-2015. And because indigenous peoples, Nicaraguan immigrants, and Afro-Latinos still experience discrimination. It's clear that there is work to be done and things to be changed. Yet, I have no doubt that immense positive change is on the horizon, not only in Costa Rica but many other places across the world. Thirty years ago there would not have been a march to recognize these injustices and the little girl with the megaphone chanting in Spanish would not have had the opportunity to voice her opinion.
I will never forget this experience, being surrounded by people of all types who share the same vision for an amazing future full of equitable opportunities for all genders, people of different sexual orientations, religions and ethnicities. I now have no doubt that the machismo culture of Latin America and the patriarchy throughout the world will be broken. I know because I experienced it.
