Rotten Little Girls

I am twenty years old. I am a good student. I don’t smoke, do drugs, drink or do anything that parents wouldn’t approve of for that matter. I excel in any sport I play. I am a good driver. I speak 3 languages fluently. I am polite and pleasant, and I’m not ugly.

You get the picture.

My parents thought it was a horrible idea for me to go to med school because being a doctor is not a woman’s job. Now that I’m a political science major and might end up being an ambassador or working in the ministry of foreign affairs where I will get the chance to travel a lot; they still don’t think it’s suitable for a woman. “Who will marry you with a job like that?”

(note: my parents are upper class well-educated people)

This morning I was in a hurry, however I made myself a healthy potato and tuna salad. I left it on the table and went to wash my hands before I start eating. I came back to the table and I find my brother’s unwashed hand in my bowl of salad. With a smirk on his face he says “Woops, I didn’t know you were hungry and in a hurry.” Hungry, in a hurry, and now pissed off, I yelled at him. He runs to my mother’s room and 2 minutes later they both come out. My mother tells me “don’t you ever talk to your brother like that.” Later that day, my mother was sitting in the living room. I went in and told her that I needed to talk to her about something. I explained to her why I find it inacceptable that my little brother gets away with everything and that I always have to suffer the consequences. She turned to me and told me in a very serious tone: “He’s a boy; he needs to have a strong character for when he gets married.” Yes, my mother actually did tell me that.

Another day, I was driving down a busy street, minding my own business; a car comes slamming into the back of my car. I stopped and got out of my car to see what the hell happened. A guy behind the wheel of the car that hit me, he was either drunk or high. He looked extremely disoriented; his speech was slurred and couldn’t stand up straight. The people on the street start gathering around the two cars when a police car shows up, and two police officers get out to ask what happened. A complete stranger on the street volunteers to tell the uninformed cops the whole story. “The usual sir, this woman stopped her car suddenly and the guy behind her didn’t have time to stop. She totally wrecked his car. This is what we get for letting women drive. They just can’t do anything right.” I will not share with you how I reacted to this, since it’s my first piece and I wouldn’t want the people out there to get the wrong idea about me. Oh who am I kidding, I don’t care: I kicked him in the crotch and enjoyed the sight of his face turn red. Mom and dad weren’t proud though.

Now I don’t mean to sound like a bitter man-hater. I’m not. I am a sexist-hater whether it’s a man or a woman.

I want to be a successful, productive individual and these people I encounter on a daily basis out there are a real bump on the road for me. Will society always hire the man even if he’s not as qualified as the woman? Will society continue to give the man a bigger salary because of his gender? Will society always come up with crazy unjustified stereotypes about women?

Do you need more reasons explaining why I am a feminist?

-B.

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The “Why I Became a Feminist” series is open to anyone who identifies as feminist and wants to share their story. Please email me at rottenlittlegirls @ gmail.com and I will consider publishing your piece in this series. I’d love to have a broad range of voices and experiences.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, and Part 5 of the series.