white boys who respond to criticism of racism and sexism by ominously saying that there are ‘bigger problems’ scare me. like what is this big secret problem and why won’t anyone tell me about it? are we going to be eaten alive by mutant sharks? are oranges secretly poisoning us? who knows. the white boys, apparently.
A boy sprawled next to me on the bus, elbows out, knee pointing sharp into my thigh.
He frowned at me when I uncrossed my legs, unfolded my hands
and splayed out like boys are taught to: all big, loose limbs.
I made sure to jab him in the side with my pretty little sharp purse.
At first he opened his mouth like I expected him to, but instead of speaking up he sat there, quiet, and took it for the whole bus ride.
Like a girl.
Once, a boy said my anger was cute, and he laughed,
and I remember thinking that I should sit there and take it,
because it isn’t ladylike to cause a scene and girls aren’t supposed to raise their voices.
But then he laughed again and all I saw
was my pretty little sharp nails digging into his cheek
before drawing back and making a horribly unladylike fist.
(my teacher informed me later that there is no ladylike way of making a fist.)
When we were both in the principal’s office twenty minutes later
him with a bloody mouth and cheek, me with skinned knuckles,
I tried to explain in words that I didn’t have yet
that I was tired of having my emotions not taken seriously
just because I’m a girl.
Girls are taught: be small, so boys can be big.
Don’t take up any more space than absolutely necessary.
Be small and smooth with soft edges
and hold in the howling when they touch you and it hurts:
the sandpaper scrape of their body hair that we would be shamed for having,
the greedy hands that press too hard and too often take without asking permission.
Girls are taught: be quiet and unimposing and oh so small
when they heckle you with their big voices from the window of a car,
because it’s rude to scream curse words back at them, and they’d just laugh anyway.
We’re taught to pin on smiles for the boys who jeer at us on the street
who see us as convenient bodies instead of people.
Girls are taught: hush, be hairless and small and soft,
so we sit there and take it and hold in the howling,
pretend to be obedient lapdogs instead of the wolves we are.
We pin pretty little sharp smiles on our faces instead of opening our mouths,
because if we do we get accused of silly women emotions
blowing everything out of proportion with our PMS, we get
condescending pet names and not-so-discreet eyerolls.
Once, I got told I punched like a girl.
I told him, Good. I hope my pretty little sharp rings leave scars.
”—'My Perfume Doubles As Mace,' theappleppielifestyle. (via queenofeden)
“Sexist humor is not simply benign amusement. It can affect men’s perceptions of their immediate social surroundings and allow them to feel comfortable with behavioral expressions of sexism without the fear of disapproval of their peers," said Thomas E. Ford, a faculty member in the psychology department at WCU. "Specifically, we propose that sexist humor acts as a ‘releaser’ of prejudice.”—No Kidding: Sexist Jokes Aren’t Funny, They’re Hostile | Toula Drimonis
At age nine, Robert Lutece informs his mother that he plans to become a scientist. She smoothes his hair back and kisses his forehead and tells him that he is the most intelligent boy in the world – that for him, nothing is impossible. The world is his oyster. For his birthday he receives a high-quality microscope and a bookshelf brimming with brand new science textbooks.
At age nine, Rosalind Lutece informs her mother that she plans to become a scientist. Her mother laughs and pats her on the shoulder – tells her that laboratories are hardly the place for a young lady like herself. Science is dangerous work, after all. Bold aspirations are unseemly. For her birthday she receives a new pair of shoes and a green ribbon for her hair, which she promptly throws in the garbage.
The only difference between them is a chromosome, Rosalind says. But a chromosome, it seems, can make all the difference in the world.
I was reading a book (about interjections, oddly enough) yesterday which included the phrase “In these days of political correctness…” talking about no longer making jokes that denigrated people for their culture or for the colour of their skin. And I thought, “That’s not actually anything to do…
OH, an alternate way to make friend on tumblr is ‘silently like each other’s personal posts and thereby develop a quiet, very specific camaraderie that consists entirely of the feeling transmitted through notifications’
I get “fake geek girl” BS in job interviews. I have skipped applying for programming jobs because the ads promote the “bro-centric company culture,” where it is common to drink beer and no one complains about your naughty sense of humor. I have applied at companies that won’t interview me for the position that I’m qualified for because the type of programming that I do is more typical for guys and this other type over here that I don’t do is more typical for girls; in order to show how inclusive of women they are, they strongly encourage me to apply for [girl job] despite me being grossly overqualified for [boy job that I can’t be interviewed for]. I have gone to interviews where it is made clear to me that I’m the affirmative action candidate, that they were intrigued by my claim to play video games [which I was tested on], and then had the technical interviewer act astounded because during my whiteboarding exercise, I followed a coding standard that prevents a security breach and no other applicants did— and then not gotten the job. I have had jobs where my opinion was dismissed by my superiors who were less qualified than me, who repeatedly interrupted me during demos to tell me that I’m doing the demo wrong on a product that the interrupter has never used— and then gotten fired for calmly standing up to him.
So let me tell you why there are so few games with strong female protagonists and so few games with characters that women can identify with as idealized heroes: games are made by men for themselves.