The pavement on 135th is pulsating with
competing stereos. The street is blocked off for the entire width of the
neighborhood. This Summer Saturday morning is dedicated to the annual
celebration that is Harlem Day. Vendors line each side with everything from
bootlegged DVDs, African art, black power propaganda, the usual suspects of fried
food, gourmet cupcakes, a voter registration booth, and a live ESPN radio broadcast.
The traditional Harlem character was mixed in with a sprinkling of
gentrification.
Too early to eat fried food, a crowd quickly gathered around
the ESPN sports commentator, Stephen A. Smith, who was spouting off the usual
sports stats. Sitting with the quick-witted analyst was a white man who
looked slightly uncomfortable under the curious scrutiny of a swelling pack. After
a brief introduction, we learned that he is a program director of the local
lacrosse league. He spoke about the need to encourage urban youth through a
team sport like lacrosse to create tomorrow’s leaders. Through lacrosse, which
is an admittedly upper middle class sport that is often confined to the New
England states, he believed the transformative power of this unconventional
team sport. As a former lacrosse player, his words spoke to me and I was proud
to hear this public endorsement, especially in Harlem.
Unfortunately, within a few minutes it was clear that his
words of encouragement and enthusiasm were targeted for adolescent boys, not girls. Immediately enraged, I
whispered to my boyfriend, “What about the girls?” Fully aware of my athletic past, he
shrugged and told me that I should ask. I waved off the suggestion, as I didn’t
see this as an opportunity to agitate gender disparity norms during this festive
day. Besides, the middle-aged men who surrounded me would surely be annoyed
with my slighted inquiry. My indignant attitude shrunk back to its previous
anonymous and silent audience member status, listening to a show that is
designed to keep me in the shadows.
Sensing my discontent, my well-intentioned boyfriend,
offered to ask the radio personality for
me. Further fueling my feelings of marginalization and alienation, I wanted to
scold him that I was not a damsel in distress that needs a man to do her
bidding. I can stand up for myself.
The scene played out in my head. If I had asked the question, I imagined men grumbling under their
breath or walking away while the analyst makes some lowbrowjoke at my expense.
The fictional scene played out again, except this time my boyfriend asked. While still generally ignored, he was heard. A few eyebrowsraisewhile the analyst
directs the question to his guest, who flusters around for a politically
correct answer without actually saying anything of substance.
Why were the scenes so different? I’m not sure what is
worse: the fact that my predictions could be right or that I had them in the
first place. Instead of immediately asking the question, I was acutely aware of
my audience and how my defiance would be perceived due to my gender.
Uncomfortable with this incongruence in beliefs and actions,
I could feel myself trying to rationalize my reticence. A progressive gender
equality endorsement is weighted heavier when it is coming from a man in this
testosterone-filled audience. My question would be too loaded and make people
feel uncomfortable.Accentuating the disparity between me and the dominantly
male audience, it would bring them acutely aware of what I had been feeling
since I had arrived. While if a man
asked, there would be different implications.
Women are immediately written off as bitter feminists when
questioning the status quo. There is an implicit assumption that she is adversely
affected by some clichéd sad story and is now lashing out and is overcome by
her emotions. The legitimacy of her argument is overruled by her gender. Conversely, men’s motives for gender
enlightenment are rarely analyzed.
Hesitant to be pigeonholed as a feminist, I am often
reluctant to speak my mind. Feeling conflicted between my desires to assert my
feminine independence with wanting to engage men to join our cause through
proactive supportive actions. Years of repressive culture has ingrained in me
that I am inferior in ways that are beyond my consciousness.
Looking back at my subliminal influences, I gained my first
impressions of gender relations from the media. Through movies, I learned how a
woman’s value is intrinsically linked to their physical attributes, their
happiness is defined by their relationships (or perhaps more notable, the lack of relationships), and their
success is measured through their maternal capabilities.
Those influences played an indirect role in my silence that
day. Through this systemic marginalization and alienation, I had become
unknowing accomplice that bolstered the status quo. As I walked away,
contemplating the importance of challenging the current state of affairs weighed
on me. My comfort in conformity is overshadowed by my unremitting marginalized
dignity.
I will be an active participant in my life instead of the
passive recipient that I am expected
to be. I refuse to allow myself to perpetuate this cycle of alienation and
indignity through soundless inaction, instead I vow to engage the system at
every level and challenge its inequalities, one question at a time.
