"Who do you think you look like most?"

A precocious young and wide-eyed eight-year-old respondsafter a second, pondering before she answers. "I think I look like myself."  

I don’t know if I’m the only one but in general, childhoodmemories often elude me until they’re relevant again. However, there's onememory that came to mind when thinking about what to write. I remember it asvivid as day, being around 7 and going back to school shopping with my mum. Asany child would be, I was visibly excited to pick out a new backpack and make astatement for the new term. However, instead of going for one of the infamouspink Barbie bags popular at the time (shout out my 90s babies) I instinctivelywent for the pop-art styled red and blue Spider-Man bag. I get it in 2020, thisprobably doesn’t seem like the impetus of a young black feminist, rather asimple nod to my preference for primary colours, but in many ways, this momentset the precedent for my journey into womanhood. Reflecting on this moment nowI think of how if, I'd be born in different circumstances, or with moretraditional parents, this small act may have been frowned upon because of mygender. 

A few months ago, whilst I was researching for my thesis, mysupervisor recommended reading WomenWho Run with Wolves, a book by author and poet Clarissa Pinkola Estés. Thebook is a feminist analysis of myths and folklore surrounding the mythology ofthe 'wild woman'. Although somewhat outdated, I resonated with the author'swords that rainy afternoon on the TTC.

Pinkola notes “The things that women reclaim are oftentheir own voice, their own values, their imagination, their clairvoyance, theirstories, their ancient memories.” Hearing those words highlighted one of therealities of being a woman, in a world where we are too often told to sacrificeour voices, remain silent and compete with one another whilst still toeing theline of acceptability...the ultimate revolution sometimes is not only acceptingoneself but freeing yourself. 

But what does the term 'wild woman' mean to me? And whydoes the term have a historically negative connotation? Both men and womenconstantly have to confront societal expectations and accepted behaviours. Women(and female-identifying people) are continually taught that politeness, modestyand 'niceness' are the standards to aspire to. I would argue we're overdue onreclaiming this term! Personally, being a wild woman means accepting thejourney of unlearning, subverting and reimagining femininity in all its wonderand nuance. 

Talking with my best friend, we both reflected on how muchwe've changed in our four years here. From two naive and optimistic first yearsto two sex-positive, thesis stressed, but thriving, fourth years. I often jokethat coming to Queens' has made me more of a revolutionary. Although half true,revolutions usually start from within.  

So, all this to what end you may ask? The answer is simple when we are told we aren't enough or are a too much remind yourself of this: you are the sum and wildest dreams of our foremothers, sisters and grandmothers. In every word we write, every day we wake up and keep pushing, we honour their legacy whilst writing our own. Our existence is living proof that we wild women are here to stay, and we're only just getting started. 

Header Image Source: https://dribbble.com/shots/4282187-Look-into-the-F

Rachael Quarcoo Is the Head of Marketing for MUSE.