Feminism among Latter-day Saints is dying, say former activists. But why?
No banners proclaiming "Mormons for ERA" soared over the LDS General Conference last month, as they did in the 1970s. No Mormon women picketed the semi-annual meeting or prayed to their Mother in Heaven over wardhouse pulpits, as they did in the 1980s. None spoke out on women's rights on the steps of the state Capitol or on TV, or got themselves fired from Brigham Young University or excommunicated from the church as they did in the 1990s.
In other words, Mormon feminists are awfully quiet.
The Mormon Women's Forum, established in Salt Lake City in 1988, can scarcely draw a crowd to its annual fall conference. Exponent II, the Boston-based quarterly for Mormon women, which led its readers "gently, gently towards feminism," is still publishing nearly 30 years after it was launched. But it is more likely to take up issues of grief, aging and being single in a married church than the question of priesthood power.
These days, Mormons feminists are less likely to publicly cut their ties to the church than to quietly slip into inactivity or simply go underground, nursing their concerns in private.
Feminism as a movement within Mormonism "is dead or dying with our generation," says Claudia Bushman, an LDS historian who teaches at Columbia University. "Feminism is such a potent word, it's been expunged from our vocabulary."
But does that mean there are no independent, free-thinking women in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints? Or that all women's issues have been resolved? Or that they no longer care about the questions that remain in a church which excludes women from its top offices?
The answer to all three is no, says Jill Derr, managing director of BYU's Smith Institute for Latter-day Saint History. Young Mormon women today "take equality between men and women on a personal and professional level as a given," she says. "It's not even a question."
Young scholars are more well-rounded, more disciplined and less scarred by the experience of overt discrimination, Derr says. They expect to balance family and career and presume the church's approval. "They did not live through the polarizing era that was such a marked part of our lives," she says. "They can look at our history through a more nuanced, complex lens."
The Salt Lake Tribune