Screechy, like an owl

Why I love Flea.

I try not to get to screechy about my feminism (or is the current term "shrill"??) because when I do, a voice that sounds suspiciously like one or both of my grandmothers tells me that women shouldn't make a fuss. Oddly, these are the same women who told me that men are all out to control women, and would tell me stories about life as an intelligent, strong-minded woman in the wrong generation and how hard it was. These are the same women who brook no bullshit from the men in their own life. But these are also the same women who instantly defer to a man, any man, when a question comes up.

If you ever want to see hackles actually rise, come around when this happens and check out the back of my neck.

My daughter makes fun of me sometimes when I point out the inconsistencies in how boys and girls are treated. How, for example, I show people her class picture and the class picture of Jef's son (they sit right next to each other in my wallet - just like in Jef's) and when they see his, they say "wow, good-lookin' kid," but when they see kiddo's, they say "she's so pretty, but she could've dressed up!!" For the record, he is wearing a red t-shirt and she is wearing a yellow t-shirt. Little things like this irritate me, because they are part of the larger picture.

My call to The Larger Picture is simple. Treat me like a person. If I make a mistake, it's not because I'm a woman, it's because I'm human. If I'm having a bad day, it's not because I'm on the rag, it's because I'm a human being and sometimes that happens.

Since I grew up with a pretty wide variety of female role models, it honestly never occurred to me that a woman couldn't/shouldn't be her own person. If anything, I had difficulty choosing a role. My mom worked and went to school full-time and raised me on her own (generous meddlinghelp from grandparents notwithstanding.) My stepmother quit working when my brothers were born, but is a tomboy who still gets in indoor water fights with her grown sons and will tell you exactly what she thinks. My maternal grandmother is incredibly intelligent and independent and went back to work in her 60's for a while. My other grandmother worked up as a hairdresser until Katrina hit - admittedly she had whittled her schedule down to one day a week, but that happens when all of your clients start dying off.

I started to write about what wonderful examples these women were of how women could still work and be wives and have kids, but that's not really what I want to say. What I want to say is that these four women set examples for me that women could be people and do things and live their lives. They did what they wanted or had to do, not just because they had vaginas, but because they are people. And this is the part of sexism that I just don't get.

Women don't want extras. I don't. I just want to be able to walk through HEB when I'm having a bad day and not be told to smile - would a man do that to another man?? I want people to look at my daughter's class picture and not notice how she's dressed - they don't notice it with the boy, why do they notice it with her? I want to be able to get angry about something and not have somebody ask if it's "that time of the month." I want to be able to go get a beer and read my book (Hi, yes, I'm a nerd with a boyfriend!) and not be intimidated into being polite to some jerk because I'm afraid he'll get mad and try to hurt me - would he bother another guy? Does he really care what I'm reading?*

It's been said before and better, but here's my point. Dudes, other than the plumbing, I'm not really that different from you. OK? I have bills and a gas tank to fill up at 3 bucks a gallon and a kid to feed and pets and two jobs and a boyfriend and parents and grandparents and siblings and books I want to read and movies I want to watch and laundry to do and my trash needs to be taken out and Good God what is that growing in the crisper drawer and man I could use a beer and what is that knocking sound under the hood, when's the last time I got an oil change and and and and and and.

Get it? I'm living my life over here. The point I'm trying, and failing, to make is that I don't understand why the same story or shirt or job or anything is different when it's told, worn, performed, whatever by a man than it is by a woman.** Individuals make the difference - not genitalia.


*And don't give me that "he's trying to be nice" bullshit. If he were really trying to be nice, he'd see that I was reading and leave me in peace with my book. People looking to get picked up DON'T BRING BOOKS TO BARS.

**This is the part of the conversation where Jef and I tend to derail, because he's former Navy and the Navy has a record of being the most sexist military branch and of being proud of it. I forgive them because they look so damn hot in their little sailor suits (two can play at that game, buddy.)