I’m Sexist and I Know It
I used to spend hours arguing with strangers on the internet. From gun reform to reproductive rights and everything in between.
FYI, there’s a lot of stuff in between.
More than once, in the middle of a carefully crafted and well-researched debate point, someone — usually a man —lobbed the term “sexist” at me. At first the idea was so laughable it left me sputtering in my tracks, which, I can only imagine, was the original intent.
Well-played internet stranger, well-played.
I lost countless hours of my life attempting to argue the nuance of power structures and equality dynamics until I finally took a breath and reconsidered.
Does advocating for the empowerment of women, at times at the expense of men, make me sexist?
I thought. I pondered. I played contortionist with the process, bending and shaping definitions to my will. I ricochetted in a comfy echo chamber. I devoured opinions which aligned with my own. And then, after a long period of self-reflection, I ended up here:
If the definition fits, wear it.
Buckle up, there’s bound to be a bit of controversy in here.
I believe the Boy Scouts should accept girls but that the Girl Scouts shouldn’t be forced to take in boys.
I think diversity quotas and forced initiatives that require companies to have 50% of their board be female are a good thing.
I think Congressional and Parliamentary chambers should require the same.
I passionately believe in power of women’s only spaces…but not the reverse.
Why?
Well, generally speaking, there’s a lot of positive to be gained by women surrounding themselves with other women. In an atmosphere free of harassment, when productivity is not hindered by time spent navigating the dark hallways of misogyny and sexism, women can flourish. More importantly, they can commune with others who have the same experiences. There is power in group dynamics. It’s one of the reasons why 2nd wave feminism, for all that its clitoris awakening, consciousness-raising groups were mocked, ultimately succeeded. It’s why Betty Friedan’s book hit many women with the force of a freight train.
Put a group of women with the same experiences together and they feel less alone. The gaslighting gives way to something else. Surely if all of us have experienced the same thing, it’s not just me being hysterical/hormonal/bitchy/a ball-buster. How do we change it? That’s empowerment.
There is power in group dynamics.
But when the power has been consolidated in one group, the risks start to outweigh the benefits.
I’m the mother of sons. Of course I recognize the social benefits of boy only spaces — but, and this is a big BUT, I think the benefits of mixed-sex spaces for boys, even ones which are engineered to be balanced, matter more.
Boys don’t need to learn how to be boys by being around only other boys. We’ve tired that — it’s why Lord of the Flies is still being taught in high school lit. We’re still churning out Jack Merridews at a rate of knots — we just call them something different now. They worship at the feet of Jordan Peterson rather than the head of a pig on a stick, but otherwise, eh…same/same.
When group power has been allowed to mutate and grow unchecked for so long, the opportunity for toxicity is too great— all that locker room talk with no one to check it, challenge it, or temper it. But even more than a breeding ground for future Jack Merridews, male only spaces do diddly squat to encourage men to lift up, work with, or mentor women, one of the major reasons why women find it so difficult to rise to the top of their industries. The old boy’s club plays a large part in explaining why there are almost as many men named JOHN who act as CEOs of Fortune 500 companies (23) as there are women (25).
I’ll give you a minute to let that one sink in.
Women need the extra time, the space, the networks, the legally enforced framework to overcome the mountain of shit they need to climb to reach the peak. When the playing field is leveled, those handicaps will go away. But it’s going to take a long time to level that field. It is so rutted with the potholes of systemic sexism that a few token female CEOs doesn’t even begin to repave it.
And so until then, if it’s sexist to pledge to vote for a woman over a man — even an equally qualified man, even — gasp — a slightly more qualified man, so be it. You see, being a woman is a qualification in and of itself — one we never grant legitimacy.
Does that make me sexist?
Maybe.
I’ll choose women over men. I’ll amplify women over men. I will seek out and patronize women owned businesses, though it would never occur to me to do that for a male-owned business. Does that make me sexist?
There are some who’ll argue that false quotas and a shapely leg up is dangerous because it promotes a culture of victimhood, insinuating women aren’t strong or clever or qualified enough to do it on their own.
To that I say…duh.
The idea that dismantling thousands of years of entrenched patriarchy with hard work, chutzpah, and a few jazz hands pulling up a bootstrap garter is, quite frankly, laughable.
I call bullshit.
Of course we need help leveling the playing field. We’re talking about a starting gun that went off several thousand years ago. Women weren’t even allowed in the stadium, let alone near the damn track until a hundred years ago. I don’t care how fast you are, how hard you run, how much you train. There is no way to overcome that head start.
Women will never make up those laps. Not without halting the race for others until they can.
Does thinking that mean I’m a sexist?
If so, I’m ok with that.
Until things even out, until there is something like equality, I’d rather own the mantle and wear it. It saves me arguing with strangers on the internet and lets me focus on more important things.
So we’ll just go with I’m sexist and I know it.
Now, let’s get to work.
