I’ve never had a very thick skin and have always been highly sensitive to what others say. But tonight, in the warped post-election reality in America, where a rapist/felon/chronic liar was selected over a highly qualified female, I may have finally turned the corner into the land of thicker skin.
Case in point – I have a fellow dog-owner neighbor who I see occasionally, perhaps a time or two a week over the years. I have written about this man before, a 70-something white male who is extremely closed- minded. He was the guy who once remarked to me about a possible tenant in my ADU, “What if you get a gay black man?” to which I had responded “That would be great!” The look on his face told me how appalled he was at the thought. He also has alluded to a neighborhood a few miles away that is known to be largely brown and black as one he had “luckily escaped” after going to a Fourth of July party nearby.
On a good day, he is a more passive version of self-centered; expressing his opinions as declarations, marching away down the street before anyone can respond or offer a differing point of view. He is what I would call a classic American old white male, the kind who has had the privilege to live in his own safe and happy world and reign supreme over it, with no one and nothing challenging his perceived dominance. The notion of his own socio-economic superiority has never been challenged because his life has proven to him that he is right.
So tonight on my dog walk when I saw him, the years of my stuffing my feelings about his racist and sexist remarks was too much for me. When he asked, I spoke my truth – I said that I was depressed about the election. That lit his fuse. He started saying that it was the Democrats fault for lousy messaging. Sadly, I had to agree. But then I invited him to stop - told him that I really wasn’t in the mood to hear it since he had said that he was a supporter of our new felon in chief. I told him that people like him had caused this, the predicament we now find ourselves in as a nation. I didn’t even mention the part about we women getting our rights utterly stripped away.
From across the street, the man yelled at me at the top of his lungs, and he’s a big man, probably 6 foot 2 and strapping. He yelled so loud that neighbors came running out of their houses to see what all the commotion was. The man called me the C word among other things and continued yelling as the neighbors on my side of the street gathered around and asked if I was okay, if I wanted them to escort me home. I demurred since the man had since huffed away down the street. But I was rattled to be sure, though less so than I would previously have been; the old me would be ringing with frenzied emotions over this encounter way more than the today me was. I’ve never in my life had someone call me the C word, much less an old man yell it at the top of his lungs in public near my home.
But despite that, I am so – over - it. I am sick and tired of always conceding when men get the self-righteous last word. When they feel like they have the right to voice the final, decisive opinion on every topic under the sun. This has been the case my entire life and I am done.
I loathe having friction-filled encounters like this one and luckily have not had many, probably because I have been trained – by society, by life, by my own experience – to keep my female mouth shut. To not challenge a man’s authority, no matter my expertise on the subject. To always err on the side of diplomacy, of keeping quiet. But I am not sorry for expressing my opinion. In fact, it felt good - righteous even. Still, as my son reminded me later, what that man said to me was verbal assault.
Do I feel in hindsight like I poked the bear in my encounter with the hostile neighbor? A bit. But I spoke truth to an older white male and he felt free – and I dare say even entitled – to make me pay for it. It may take a generation or two, but maybe if we women are willing to say it out loud, to not concede and let ignorant men always have the final say, maybe they can start to learn that they’re NOT always right. That we deserve and expect to be heard.
I will admit I lost sleep over this encounter. I will never be a person that relishes conflict, but enough of always conceding. After a lifetime, look where we American women have ended up; not only have we lost ground, but we now find ourselves catapulted back in time 200 years, with some particular lowlife men declaring with glee that they ‘now control our bodies forever’. If someone had told me I would experience this in my lifetime, I wouldn’t have believed them.
We American women have been told very clearly that we are not valued, that our lives are not worth saving. And this is causing us to flail, to organize, to seek new ways to navigate these uncharted waters. It's going to be awkward for a while, as we find ourselves pushed to our breaking point and work to carve a new path. But let’s not continually excuse the bad behavior of those like my neighbor.
As Betty Davis so famously said, “Fasten your seat belts – it’s going to be a bumpy ride.” And it is going to be bumpy. The time to be quiet is over. And we – women, allies, those people who like us seek equal and fair treatment – are going to have to grow thicker skins so we can express our opinions unapologetically. We women did not pick this fight – it was thrust upon us. But make no mistake – however long it takes for us to be seen, respected, treated like the wise and capable people we are - we are not backing down. We cannot afford to - it is now quite literally a matter of life and death.
Comments