Smart vs Pretty

This whole feminist thing has had me reevaluating some life events.  I remember a moment in 7^th grade when I was working on a group project in my Social Studies class.  A boy in my group named Adam was the cutest boy in my class and I was smitten with him.  Every girl I knew wanted to be his girlfriend, which in 7^th grade meant we all wanted to hold hands with him at recess.  My first, and really only interaction with Adam was him asking me to take responsibility for researching the answer to the most difficult question posed because “you’re the smartest girl I know.”

I remember stammering some sort of response as to why I wasn't the smartest girl he knew and that it was surprising how many people had that wrong impression of me.  “I’m really not smart; in fact I’m pretty sure I’d be in Special Ed if my mom wasn't friends with the principal.”

I should have been flattered by what I am now sure was meant as a compliment, but instead I was mortified.  If Adam’s primary descriptive word for me was ‘smart’ then I wasn't the prettiest girl he knew.  Smart girls don’t end up with the guy, and the guy is the biggest prize.

Adam later moved to a different school and I became interested in a boy named Ed.  It was around this time I was diagnosed with epilepsy and began having petite-mal seizures at school.  When Ed asked me about the seizures I explained (and this is not a joke) that the seizures occurred when I thought too much.  Therefore, I tried not to think too hard.  I really wanted Ed to think of me as ‘pretty’ before ‘smart’ – and thought if he felt smarter than me this would help in that regard.  It must have worked because I did end up holding Ed’s hand during a couple of recesses. 

Though I can think of life moments where I tried to downplay my intelligence in order to get a boy to like me, I’m not sure why I felt this was necessary.  I’m still trying to figure out where this thought process originated- perhaps Disney had something to do with it.

The F Word

I recently started listing to a podcast from Barnard College titled “Dare to use the F Word” with F standing for feminism.  I don’t remember how I got turned on to the Podcast, but I have found listening to it has made me question my understanding of what feminism is.

The word feminist conjures up negative feelings and a picture of unkempt, angry women dressed in masculine clothes, and smelling of patchouli.  A feminist is a cross between a hippie who doesn’t care whether she meets society’s definition of beauty, and a revolutionary willing to do anything for her cause.  The desire for equality spreads into every facet of a feminist’s life.  Conversations with feminists are awkward and defensive, because all men are viewed as pigs.  A lost job opportunity is due to gender bias, not lack of qualifications and feminists ostracize women who like to wear make-up and dresses and flirt with boys.  

I’m not sure why the word feminist has such a negative connotation for me.  Weren’t suffragettes feminists? Didn’t they significantly impact women’s rights in a positive way? So what happened during the decades after the suffragettes earned the women’s vote that makes feminism now so unappealing?

I’ve never been concerned with media’s representation of physical beauty.  I’m smart enough to know I’m an individual and I don’t have to have full hair, flawless skin and perfect proportions in order to contribute to society.  In my opinion my life’s contributions have been more significant than those of the model on the front cover of Vogue, though the model might disagree.  Because I’ve never been concerned with emulating models and actors, I’ve had no interest in feminism as defined by me.

Here’s what sparked my feminist paradigm shift:  The CFO of Facebook started a movement called Ban Bossy- in which she wants to remind people that a powerful woman, a woman strong enough to lead, should not be described as “bossy.”  If you think about it “bossy” really is a term used only to describe women; when was the last time you heard someone refer to a man as “bossy?”

Ban Bossy really resonates with me.  I’ve been called bossy on several occasions by friends and family, most of the time it’s done in a friendly-joking (i.e. passive-aggressive) sort of way.  But am I really “bossy,” or do I just take the initiative to lead, and am I brave enough to share my ideas and opinions with people?  Should I be labeled as “bossy” because of that?  If my greatest skill is leadership, or project management, or change management should I temper my skills in order to ensure I am not labeled as “bossy?” 

The fact that I may be willing to downplay my greatest contribution to my team in order to avoid a certain label really resonated with me.  I consider myself a strong woman, but if I am willing to conceal my greatest skill in order to be viewed as submissive and not bossy, then I may be too concerned with satisfying societal expectations for woman.

Ban Bossy made me realize the feminist fight penetrates beyond the skin, and into the very definition of our personal selves.  I feel I need to reevaluate my internal reactions to subliminal criticism and ensure I am myself, 100% of the time.  This paradigm shift has impacted my perception of feminism; maybe feminism isn’t just dressed up in combat boots and unruly hair, but can also be displayed in a conference room when a female refuses to succumb to specific labels, and confidently suggests a process change.