Lesley Watkins
Women & Minorities
01/20/10
Journal 1
Gender stereotypes are everywhere in the media. You cannot avoid depictions of the professionally coifed housewife overly excited about cleaning her mud and red wine laden carpets with the newest Rug Doctor. Her husband walks in the door, designer briefcase in hand, and showers her with love and affection for completion of her domestic duties. Why do we never see the stay-at-home dad or the even more true-to-life interracial, two-income family?
We were challenged this week to do something seen as stereotypically opposite of our socially manifested gender roles. The polarity between ‘Male as Feminine’ and ‘Female as Masculine’ stereotypes is not equal. A tom-boy girl is easily more accepted in society by both men and women than an overly sensitive boy. This fact proved it difficult to decide on a task that would truly break the divide of acceptable gender roles. I finally settled on something that matters to me on a daily basis. I am continually upset by the lack of chivalry on the school bus. As a rather petite girl, simply standing on the bus en route it quite a task. Every tight turn and pothole sends me swinging forward and backward; a bus ride through the hills of San Marcos is anything but graceful or ladylike. Why is it that men only sometimes offer me their seat on the bus? Why is it that I expect them to? Either way, I chose this to be my challenge.
Twice I stood and offered my seat to a girl reduced to standing amongst a sea of seated boys. Both times I chose girls that were taller and stronger than I; I imagine they effortlessly enjoyed their ascended trip probably never once wishing they had a seat. The first girl politely declined, but I stood and more or less insisted she take my seat. As we glided through the last few stops, I swayed to and fro like laundry strung on a line. I was close to mortification and vowed not to repeat my experiment again.
After regaining my composure, I gave it another go on the bus ride back home. The initial refusal, persistence, and “laundry line feeling” happened just as it had the first time, however this time I felt a tap on my shoulder from the other side of the aisle. “Would you like my seat?” I was overjoyed! Of course I would! Someone was mindful enough to see my difficulty and offered me a hand. It was a small gesture, but in the back of my mind I felt like I had made a silent point that would resonate with more male passengers the next time they boarded a congested school bus.
