I wrote the following essay on how I came to identify as a feminist:
I am a feminist in progress. I come from a traditional Mormon home, and only in recent years have I begun to look at my growing up with a skeptical eye. Even as I question the exclusive “rightness” of my family’s structure, I do not doubt (or take for granted) that mine was a loving, functional home.
I always saw my parents as equals, even though they divided their parental duties along pretty clear, traditional gender lines: Dad went to work outside the home, Mom went to work inside the home. Mom made the food, Dad made the money. I think Henry Ford would have been proud of my assembly-line patriarchal family.