Being Canadian, the Montreal Massacre and Not A Love Story kept me “feminist” longer than I otherwise would have been. But even then, my feminism was always the frowned upon, old fashioned “Great Women of History” variety, as opposed to the collectivist “sisterhood/victim-hood” kind that ran the women’s movement, then and now. I was raised by nuns, not to mention by a single mom who refused to go on welfare.
But I’d taken a women’s studies elective in college, and was suitably outraged by what I learned. Too bad so much of it turned out to be wrong.
Oh, and that guy from the Montreal Massacre? We never heard his real, Muslim name after the initial news reports.
A friend of mine who lives in the city swears that one of those local radio news reports featured a female witness who said the killer had shouted something in a language she didn’t understand, some words beginning with “a.” My friend has tried, unsuccessfully, to track down the broadcast in the archives. No luck…