I would like to announce that Tahirih and I share a special bond.

This is not to say that I have her courage; I am often hesitant and afraid without reason. I do not have her capacities as a leader; while she led thousands of inspired souls, I depend heavily on the leadership and influence of those around me. Nor can I make claim to her brilliance and intuitive knowledge; I find myself at most times to be shockingly ignorant.

No, the thing that Tahirih and I share is something as silly as the fact that we have the same name. Katherine comes from the Greek root katros, meaning pure. But, as superficial as this common ground may be, it is a comfort to know that there is a similarity between us. It has inspired me to look into the life of Tahirih, and to discover if there are any other shared gems between us.

Who am I, and who was Tahirih? Poets, lovers of the Cause, women. Ah, there it is, women. Tahirih is remembered as spectacular, in part, simply because of her gender. She is often called one of the first feminists of her nation. She removed her veil at the Conference at Badasht to surprise people out of their complacency, yes, but it was also a public rejection of the false values of the female gender that had been placed on her and her sisters for centuries. Her last words still ring out across the ages: "You may kill me as soon as you like, but you can never stop the emancipation of women!" But emancipation from what, to what? I live in a different world than Tahirih, separated more surely by culture than by physical distances or time. What veils must be removed before we can achieve the culture of equality which our great spiritual ancestor once dreamed of?

Here is where I begin to talk about myself, and share things it is likely you didn't care to know. But I believe that discussion must be open and frank, or certain issues will never be addressed at all.

I'll let you in on a secret: I don't shave my legs. I never have. I don't think I ever will. Not because I think it's bad to do so, but because I find it to be a waste of time better spent in prayer, study, or play. This is, to me, what Tahirih's veil was to her. She did not advocate that all women remove theirs, rather, that they think about why they wore them, and have the freedom to choose. Let us think, sisters! Why are we changing ourselves, slaving for hours of our weeks, years of our lives, to become aligned with the values of a crumbling World Order?

Some of you who have seen me may right now be thinking to themselves, "Hypocrite! You can't be a feminist and then wear swishy ankle-length skirts everyday!" At one time, I would have vehemently denied this, but now, I think it bears questioning. Am I a feminist at all?

Given, there are signs that I am. I pay my own way, carry my own bags, and have no qualms about holding the door open for anyone, male and female alike. I'm probably one of the only among my peers to have read The Feminine Mystique from cover to cover, and I receive legislative updates from the National Organization for Women. My last term paper was on the topic of gender discrimination in the workplace. But, first and foremost, I am a Baha'i. And there are some aspects of the feminist cause that I feel need some serious adjustment before I can adopt them into my life. So, here we have it: feminism, Baha'i style.

For example, sexual ethics. Given, I agree that there is great disparity between what is deemed appropriate for men, and what is appropriate for women. A man who sleeps with many women is "experienced". A woman who sleeps with many men is a slut.

But does this mean that women should rise up for the right to live just as unchastely as men? No! We all, male and female alike, need to realign our lives to the (equal!) provisions of the Covenant regarding such matters. This is not a matter of having freedom to, but freedom from. Let us remember it as such.

Another example is modesty of dress. (Note: I am speaking as a resident of the United States, where this is an issue; this will vary hugely from culture to culture.) Again, there is disparity. It is considered quite normal to see a man without a shirt on, but never for a woman. Should we go about starting a movement to remove even more of our (often scanty) dress, so that we may further attract the glances of our brothers? Or should our brothers themselves, perhaps, consider more carefully their sisters in deciding on their apparel of choice?

The Faith gives us a unique perspective on society, but it is up to us to utilize it. I know that women and men are as the wings of one bird, different in their capacities at times, but always complementary. I think that women should be free to rise to the status of men, and that men should be free to partake of the bounties that have long been limited to the female domain. But am I a feminist? It doesn't matter. I am a witness to the unity of the human family. I am working to build a society in which others can be so, as well. I pray, I trust, I believe. I am a Baha'i.