Irreverin
Yesterday a blog troll called me a fascist bitch.
Also yesterday–an elderly funeral director told me that I’d sure be cute…if I had red hair. (Read: I find your purple hair unbefitting a proper lady. Also, I think you are 12 years old, and women should not be ministers).
These are two totally different things. But also, they are exactly the same.
First, why they are different; the troll was coming from a place of hostility (hostility being the official language of troll-dom) while the funeral director was trying to connect with me on a friendly level. The troll was hiding behind the perceived anonymity of the computer screen, while the funeral director was engaging me in a face-to-face conversation. Not nearly as menacing.
The troll, I deleted. He’ll be back. And if he’s not, there’s a line of them a mile long who will take his place.
The funeral director, I engaged in the playful banter he was aiming for. I’ve been in ministry long enough to know that some men of a certain age interact with women of my age in a particular way; and me responding in a visceral, defensive way will not change that. I’ve also had enough exchanges like that to know a harmless one when I see it. This guy was harmless. Getting myself worked up into a froth of feminist rage was not going to serve anyone–and, with an impending funeral, I did have people to serve.
As different as these exchanges seemed at the time, they also have a lot in common. Primarily, the frequency with which they occur. Because yes, both of these happened yesterday; but that doesn’t make yesterday extraordinary. I deal with name calling from strangers, uninvited comments on my appearance–plus vaguely inappropriate touching–on a regular basis.
And so does every other woman you know.
Women who hold positions of authority, or who have a public online presence, may deal with this in more overt (and public) ways. But this is about far more than a couple of guys who want to “put us in our place.” This is the world we live in. It’s the world that all women live in.
It’s the world in which Donald Trump can say truly appalling things about women in general, and still be a Presidential front-runner; a world in which he can say truly appalling things about one woman in particular (Megan Kelly), setting the tone for a larger group of men to publicly attack her with abusive, aggressive Tweets.
And this–this is the world in which the same Presidential front-runner can say of his biggest opponent, “She’s just playing the women’s card.” going on to say that, were she a man, she would be dragging the bottom of the polls. (Side note: #womancard Wednesday is the most fun I’ve ever had on Twitter! Come play!)
It’s the same world where Erin Andrews files charges against a stalker, and the hotel in which she was spied on; and gets slut-shamed for trying to draw attention to herself.
The world in which more than half of recent seminary graduates are women; but the rate of women serving as lead and solo pastors hovers around 10 to 15%. (Research in this area is variable and does not account for church size. If we were counting only moderate to large congregations, the percentage would be much lower).
This is the world in which colleges and universities still don’t know how to address rampant sexual assault on their campuses.
This is the world in which we teach our daughters to dress modestly, avoid dark alleyways, and in a thousand other ways navigate the landmines of rape culture; and yet we have not managed to teach our boys that no means no. Oh and also, rape insurance. “Because boys will be boys!” Thanks for that, Michigan.
This is the world we live in. The values by which we elect our leaders, ordain our pastors, broadcast our news, and negotiate salaries… which, some statistics say, are still about 20% lower for women.
It’s just the world we live in. Right?
Somehow, the liturgical repetition of that truth doesn’t make me feel better about its reality. It may be time for a new mantra.
The trouble is, at the personal, day to day level–in most expressions– it’s easy enough to shrug off. It’s easy enough to block the troll, laugh off the grandfatherly comment, or side-step the “friendly” rub-down that should have been a side hug. In the moment, it feels like the most professional thing to do; the most gracious, the most hospitable, the least likely to lead to ugly confrontation.
Truth is, I delete/laugh/sidestep because it’s easier. It’s the easiest way to be a woman in “the world in which we live.” But I also have to acknowledge that a world in which I choose to ignore or blow off the subtle forms of sexism, is the same world that enables–even encourages– the systemic, more harmful ones. The same world that will embrace a woman-hating hairpiece as its mouthpiece, and make a sport of bullying female sportscasters.
So in addition to needing a new mantra, I guess I also need some new dance moves. Because sidestepping is just far too easy.
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