This I Believe

“You’re so opinionated”; “Man up”; “Smile”; phrases that are only select examples out of hundreds for men to belittle women in casual conversation. When a young girl hears language implying that they’re to be taken seriously, it is registered as a compliment. She thinks, “Wow! They’re shocked that someone my age is so bold!” That is, until she learns it isn’t her age that surprises them; until she learns that it’s actually the fact that she’s a little girl, not a little boy. Until she learns to pick apart the true intentions of the comment - then she realizes that anything indicating astonishment, astonishment by the presence of a strong woman is sexist, whether it’s intended to be or not. “Be quiet”; “Be ladylike”; “Let the men do the talking.” Well, I believe in being loud.

When I was young I was occasionally subject to going through rounds of older couples squeezing my brother and I on the cheeks and telling us that they “remember when we were this big,” showing off a size with their hands that seemed unnatural for even newborns. During these tedious family gatherings, I distinctly remember my brother being told how “big and strong” he was, and that I would “give the boys a run for their money.” Being a kid, my brain was preoccupied with the smell of cookies wafting in from the kitchen and the sound of the baseball game playing from the living room, leaving no room in my head to analyze the meaning behind these comments, comments that clearly have double meanings. I am no longer an innocent child, and I’ve begun to analyze these clear, contrasting connotations. Why is it that any so-called “compliment” given to a young girl about her audacity is given in comparison to men? I’m going to give the boys a run for their money? No, I'm going to give everyone a run for their money.

A few years later in elementary school it was scooter day in gym class. Excitement was in the air, along with the sound of little kids babbling and the faint smell of burnt rubber from previous classes' intense scooter races. Before playing can begin though, the scooters have to be moved from the storage closet out into the cafegymatorium, my school's sad attempt at fusing together a cafeteria, a gymnasium and an auditorium. The gym teacher says to the class “are there any strong boys that want to help me get the equipment?” but I was too excited about the fun I was about to have to notice what that really means. Flash forward through years of adolescence and I’m in high school standing next to a boy in a tank top when I get handed a pink slip with the words Dress Code sprawled on the top. Even though both me and the boy I’m next to are technically breaking the dress code’s “two finger sleeve width” rule, the boy gets off with a head nod and I get a phone call home. Reluctantly, I put a sweatshirt on, mad at the system I was forced to oblige with and at the people who saw no issue with it. “You'll distract the boys” they said, “Dress like a lady”. Since when is it my problem for distracting someone with my existence?

Historically, women are meant to be pure. Women are meant to be quaint, clean, sweet, perfect, and especially, silent. We’re supposed to thrive in an environment where we’re forced into cleaning, cooking, and caring. Women cannot stir the pot metaphorically, but stirring a pot physically is seen as our main purpose. Feed the kids and the husband, keep the house tidy and your mouth shut. Maintain a safe haven for everyone in your life, except your own mind. When people hear the word “loud”, usually they think negative and obnoxious, but I think that’s naive. I believe as a young woman growing up in a society where people ignore the prevalence of misogyny, the ingrained prejudice against women, that refuses to budge, being loud is the only option left. Being loud in my confidence, being loud when standing up for myself, being loud in everything I do, is the most important thing. Female flourishing is impossible when women are trapped in silence.