Dec 22
“There is no other ‘job’ where a 13-year-old with zero experience can be sold for 100 times the price what a 23-year-old with ten years experience is sold.” Samantha Berg
https://www.genderberg.com/phpNuke/modules.php?name=FAQ&myfaq=yes&id_cat=2&categories=
Dec 17
So this guy in our neighborhood has early Alzheimers and dizzy spells. He’s looking for a babysitter (his word) and someone to cook for him and do his cleaning so he doesn’t have to go into a home. And he asked me.
I have no experience babysitting. And absolutely no aptitude for it.
Yes, I do my own cooking and cleaning, but I have no interest in it, at all, and do as little as possible.
So why did he ask me? Because I’m a middle-aged woman. Apparently that’s what middle-aged women do, that’s what we are, that’s what we’re for.
Yes, I’ve been friendly with him, stopping to chat or at least wave when I walk by (as a result of which he once asked me if I like sex and whether I’m any good at it—apparently that’s another thing women do, are, are for), but I doubt that friendliness on the part of a man would have indicated that he’s available for babysitting, cooking, or cleaning (or sex).
I’ve got three degrees, I used to be a philosophy instructor, I’ve published several books, and I’m currently making a living as a freelancer. Would a man with such credentials be asked to be someone’s babysitter and do their cooking and cleaning?
Ah, but this guy doesn’t know I’m all that. And that’s also telling. If I were man who has lived in this neighborhood (small, rural) for twenty-five years, everyone would likely know all of that about me. But I don’t go around announcing these things, and no one’s ever asked. Because they just assume I’m—well, none of that. After all, I’m just a middle-aged woman.
P.S. – Spread the word – I invite women to add their own “And here’s something else that would never happen to a man” entries via the comments function. I’d love for this post to turn into a blog sort of like ‘What is it like to be a woman in philosophy?’…
Dec 07
I was recently surprised to discover that in the U.S., men are required by law to register for the “selective service system”.
Only men. I thought women were allowed in their military now.
And required. I didn’t think they had ‘the draft’ anymore.
When I expressed my surprise, hoping to engage someone in conversation, the guy in line behind me (I was in a U.S. post office, where the brochures reminding men of their duty were prominently displayed) said he agreed that it should be mandatory to serve for two years: it makes ‘em ‘grow up’.
Hm. How does teaching someone how to kill make a person grow up? That is, what’s mature about learning how to kill? What’s mature about actually killing?
Of course, being in the military is not just about killing. Arguably. But what’s mature about not being pressured to conform, to obey orders?
Sure, the forced routine, of physical exercise and psychological effort, might become a habit. And that’s a good thing. A grown-up thing. But there are other, far better, ways to achieve that same result.
And sure, the presumed altruism—you’re serving their country, life’s not all about you—is good, mature. But again, is killing someone for others really the best example of altruism we can put before young men? Young men who need to grow up?
It seems to me the selective service system is a bad way to fix a bunch of other bad ways.
The question we have to ask is how do boys get to eighteen without growing up?
Nov 28
It really hit home when my father gave me twenty bucks for a pizza, his treat. As if I were a teenager. Instead of a 50-year-old woman with a mortgage to pay, property taxes, and monthly bills for oil, electricity, phone, internet, tv, house insurance, car insurance… Amazing. He was sitting in my living room at the time. (My living room.) A carpenter I’d hired to do some renovations on my house (my house) was outside working at the time. And yet, he seemed to think I didn’t need, or couldn’t use, any real money. He couldn’t see me as an adult negotiating my way in the real world, the one with jobs, paycheques, mortgages, and bills.
How did he think I came to own my own house? Who did he think would be paying the carpenter? Who does he think bought the car sitting in my driveway? And pays for its repairs?
I don’t doubt for a minute that my parents have given my brother and my married sister a lot more than twenty bucks over the years (I divorced them thirty years ago, so I don’t really know) (and for that reason, I don’t feel entitled to anything from them, but that’s not my point), starting with the hundred-dollar (thousand-dollar?) gifts they gave them to start their households. Said gifts were ostensibly wedding gifts, but hey, I had a household to start too. Why do they get a new fridge and I get a hand-me-down blender just because they’re starting a new household with someone to whom they’ve contracted themselves?
And it’s not just my parents, of course. The twenty-bucks-for-pizza incident wasn’t by any means the first time my economic expenses have been apparently invisible. A neighbour (a kept woman) explained to me once that she and her husband were happy to have given the commission from the sale of their property to a certain real estate agent, a woman, (instead of selling the property without involving her, which they could have done), because her husband had recently died, so she was on her own now. No similar sympathy has ever been directed my way. And I’ve been on my own since I was twenty-one.
Why is this? What can explain this phenomenon, a phenomenon that is surely causally related to women’s lower salaries? The belief, clearly mistaken if anyone cared to open their eyes, that every woman is married? (And every married woman is completely supported by her husband?) The insistent belief that women are, or should be, considered children? (And children don’t have adult needs, adult financial responsibilities…)
In 2009, American single women outnumbered married women (All the Single Ladies, Rebecca Traister). So what do people like my parents think? That banks waive our mortgage payments, and landlords never charge us rent; that insurance companies waive our premiums; that oil and propane companies fill our tanks, but never send us a bill; that we get our cars and bus passes for free; that we don’t have to pay for gas; that grocery stores let us walk out with all the food we want, for free; that our dentists and optometrists don’t charge us for check-ups; and that little elves come in the middle of the night and leave heaps of money so we can pay for whatever else we need.
Nov 15
I hate the way they defer to men.
I hate the way they expect a man to pay their way through life.
I hate that they accept the privileged status that accompanies being married to a man.
I hate that they sexualize themselves with make-up and clothing choices as a matter of routine.
I hate that they pretend to enjoy sexual intercourse when they don’t.
I hate that they have children even when they don’t really want them.
(I like people. People who have not accepted the straitjackets of gender.)
Nov 14
Yes, generally speaking, I do.
I hate the way they take up more physical space than necessary, sprawling over the confines of their chairs, elbowing the people beside them.
I hate the way they take up more conversational space, speaking slowly, repeating themselves, and making irrelevant comments that derail the discussion.
I hate the way they lecture me as if I’m a child.
I hate the way they automatically assume they know more than me. Even when they’re students in a class I’m teaching.
I hate the way they feel entitled to tell me what my problems are, to tell me whether I measure up to their standards, to tell me whether I please them or not.
I hate that they work less hard in school, obtain lower grades, and yet receive better job offers.
I hate that they get paid more for work of equal or lesser value.
I hate that they relentlessly sexualize women so we are reduced to nothing but our sex.
I hate that they sexually assault women.
I hate that they kill women who have been sexually assaulted.
I hate that they are entertained by images that humiliate and degrade women, and start watching such images as early as ten years of age.
I hate that they buy and sell girls for their sexual use.
I hate that they enjoy hunting and killing animals.
I hate their reluctance to engage in self analysis, to take responsibility for any of the above, to change any of the above.
I hate that they like the way things are.
So the question that should be asked is not do I hate men, but why do you not?
Nov 07
According to the Canadian Criminal Code, (self-induced) intoxication is no defence against charges of assault (33.1): if you’re drunk, you’re still able to form the general intent to commit said assault.
And yet, with regard to the sub-category of sexual assault, belief that someone is consenting is cancelled if that someone is intoxicated (273.1(2)): if you’re drunk, you can’t consent to sex.
So if you’re drunk, you’re capable of forming the intent to assault, but you’re not capable of forming the intent to have sex? Given that it’s mostly men who do the assaulting, and it’s mostly women who do the consenting (and given, it’s my guess, that the lawmakers had men in mind for 33.1 and women in mind for 273.1(2)), is this some sort of ‘protect the weaker sex’ double standard?
Hey, if we expect men to foresee the effects of alcohol and to be responsible for their behavior while under its influence, we should expect the same of women. Yes, it may be morally wrong to have sex with someone who’s drunk, even though she’s climbing all over you and moaning ‘do me’, especially if you suspect that if she were sober she wouldn’t be quite so willing – but you’re not her legal guardian. ‘Yes’ means ‘yes’ and if she regrets it the morning after, that’s her headache. Doing something really stupid is the risk you take when you get drunk (unless you’ve got a dependable designated sober friend with you).
If while drunk she says I can borrow her car, and I do so, am I really justly accused of theft? Am I my sister’s keeper? She said I could. Do I have to second guess her? She may well say I can borrow her car when she’s sober too. Or not. Am I supposed to know? (Aside from it’s not always easy to tell if someone has had ‘too much’ to drink.)
The only way the difference can be justified is if in both cases we consider the man to be the agent, the only one doing the deed. In the first case, that’s fine. But in the second? Well, okay, if she’s the one done to, I guess, maybe, he’s the only one who’s guilty. But the tricky part is that then the legality of the deed depends on her behavior. If she, drunk, does to him, she’s the one guilty of assault while intoxicated.
