Writing Like a Woman.

Essay I wrote for a class this semester, probably a feminist rant:
Warning: some language in this post is a little stronger and more vulgar than I typically use.

I’m reading a blog post about being a man. It opens with a quote from something that I don’t know about someone stabbing someone in the gut. The post is broken up with clips from the movies Gladiator and Braveheart. The text changes in size and color, the large read parts seem to shout at the reader. The title of the post is Testosterone.

My family tosses the idea of a “real man” around quite a bit at home, mostly in jest (real men wear pink). We can do that because, of the eight of us, my father and my four-year-old brother are the only males. But they are all far away now. I’m at college on the other side of the country, on duty in the art and music center office, and trying to figure out what it really means, in case I ever need to know. The music department is mostly empty; the practice rooms silent, the lounge deserted. In the recital hall, a lone pianist is practicing. In my family, men play music.

The blogger says that our culture is trying to emasculate and objectify men. I nod in agreement. The blogger says that Christianity is as guilty of this as secularism. “Let's start with the so-called Christian man. He is supposed to be patient, kind, gentle...” For some reason the blogger thinks that these traits are contrary to true manhood. Men need to be strong, fearless, and wild.

I roll my eyes and get ready to be insulted. Just as I suspect, the next critique of culturally accepted behaviors for men is that they are too feminine. “I'll be as blunt as I can: the ‘nice guy image’ is a feminized pile of crap… What does all this femininity do? Breaks us down and makes us shy and miserable.” What is the implicit (and sometime explicit) definition of femininity?  Oh, you know, being passive, gentle, nurturing, being quite and hoping other people (men) will defend goodness truth and beauty. Then the writer tries as best he can to affirm women by assuring them that these traits make women beautiful and strong. They are just not good for men.

I can feel my rational objections to this sort of argument being overwhelmed by a rather un-feminine emotion. It’s the sort of feeling that might prompt some men to make an obscene gesture at the blogger and walk away. But I’m not that sort of person. I try to write a response.

What do you mean, the nice guy image is feminized crap? Of course Christian girls like me want men to be gentle and kind; look at the alternative. You have the secular culture glorifying and romanticizing abusive relationships. If a man won’t come out of the jungle for me, and treat me as his equal, (as I am) I don’t want him. Gosh, I hope there are men out there who don’t need a woman to motivate them to act like a human and not an ape.

Further, women can by courageous too. You are acting like women never stand up for truth, or shouldn’t. Even if men were more commonly defending truth, it wouldn’t mean women would, or should, stop.

A student shuffles through the door of the office carrying a backpack too large for her. I hastily wipe the scowl from my face and greet her with my canned “Hi there, how can I help you.” She needs me to unlock the ceramics studio upstairs in the art department. I take my feet off the desk and dig the keys out of the deep pockets of my “boy pants.” We cheerfully walk to the clay room, making small talk, past the drawings of nudes that the figure drawing class has pinned on the walls. Some of these quick sketches, which art students call gestures, are made of just a few active lines that capture a motion, the curve of the spine, the turn of the hips and shoulders. They are done so quickly, catching just the essence of a pose, that there is no time for sex defining details. These dashes and smudges of charcoal and graphite represent a human. When I come back to the office I am tempted to close my web browser and forget the blogger.

 I am keenly aware that I am a woman (even one wearing pants from the boy’s department). I am trapped in a stereotype. I sense that my thoughts will be dismissed because I am a woman; overly emotional, overly sensitive, constantly whining about being left out, like a younger sibling, always trying to force men into overly civilized attitudes. I am everything the writer of the blog disdains.

Unwilling to fall into that trap, I add disclaimer sentences such as “as a woman” and “this is the way I see it” and “to me, it seem that.” Whatever ideas I have, I must make the male author think they are his ideas. I have had to deal with men this way before. To be fair, I have had to deal this way with women also, but it always seems more annoying when it is a man. It's not a very nice thing to do, it is kind of condescending, actually.

            I am a woman who very diligently seeks to live an authentically feminine life. I am pretty sure I agree with your main point. However, I think I am misunderstanding something.

            I am unclear on what exactly you are asking men to do or be that is distinctly masculine, and not a universal virtue. What do you mean when you say gentleness is a strong virtue, but it does not “define man?” If it’s a strong virtue, why should a man not practice it? Is there a such thing as a weak virtue? Are you also upholding anger as a vice that is proper for men to practice? It might be just me, but it seems like being silent in the face of injustice is a vice regardless of sex (or gender, if you like). As a woman, I’ve always thought that being gentle toward the wounded and weak is a virtue that both men and women should practice.

This is useless. I am being the kind of women the blogger praises, practicing the virtues that make a man “shy and miserable,” but are beautiful in a woman. What does that mean? It means that he doesn’t respect this kind of language. He doesn’t respect it in men, so why should he respect it in women? This is the internet. If I don’t tell him, he doesn’t even have to know I am a woman. Based on this post he will either assume that I am an emasculated man, or a good and gentle woman, both people he doesn’t have to take seriously. I feel the door being shut on my face. The men, capable of real discussion of important issues, gathered inside, unwilling to be bothered with my questions, or my thoughts, invalid in their discussion.

I delete the comment. Many English classes have taught me to write assertively, as if my words were truth, and not merely my opinion. A voice in the back of my mind says I am being arrogant, but another voice answers saying that women stereotypically use weak language and it does them no good whatever.

My anger is subsiding, being replaced by frustration, an emotion I know how to overcome with rational action (and some prayer) before it gets too strong. I read the post again, trying to see what exactly the author is challenging men to be. He wants men to be protectors and defenders of truth, goodness, beauty and women. Why do I feel attacked? I would love to live in a world where more men defended and respected women.

I think about the men in my life; men I admire, respect, and who help to define my idea of masculinity. They are not afraid to cry in front of people. They lead with authority, inspiring my respect by respecting me. They wield their power and strength in service of those weaker then themselves. They are humble and not condescending or arrogant. They are gentle and kind. They are not afraid to confront evil, but they don’t fight evil with evil. This also describes the women I admire most.

The blogger is attacking men that I love; my father, my uncles, friends, mentors, teachers; and ignoring and dishonoring women I love. I rise with indignation to defend them against charges of being too feminine; too like me. Again I am left with the feeling that womanhood is shameful. My shrinking apology for thinking has turned into the sarcastic snarls of a wounded animal, trying to look bigger and stronger than it is.

Have you ever noticed that real women confront evil without balls?Gee, sorry for stepping on your toes, men, I guess I’ll just hide in the corner and let you solve all my problems for me. Excuse me for asking you to shower and wear deodorant, didn’t mean to step on your delicate macho ego. You go ahead and be “wild” (whatever that means in a civilized society) and I’ll just mop up the mess when you are done.

 I delete these too. Being defensive will do no good. He’s not trying to attack me, I shouldn’t be hurt, and I certainly should not be reactionary about it. I am just trying to pin point the error he has made and challenge him to rethink it. I’m just calling him out. He is calling men to be stronger. I am only calling him out on his failure to honor women. If I read what he meant, instead of what he actually said; what he was trying to say, instead of what I understood from the way he said it, (it’s a little hard to tell in places, but) I think I agree with him.

Apparently, I am not the intended audience. This blog post is written for men. I don’t really have any business reading it, much less trying to respond to it. As long as other men understand what he is trying to say about virtues that men should practice, it’s all good. I should mind my own business, he probably wouldn’t criticize me for talking about how women ought to act. I wonder if he would approve of my writing.  I’m not being passive, silent, and patient, which he says are bad things for men to be, because they are too feminine. I wonder if he would like to write a post about women being too masculine.

In a newly rational state of mine, with only a slight residue of anger remaining, I try to explain, in plain language, the objection I have to the his point. I find myself pointing out that every virtue he praises in men is also a virtue that women need to cultivate. Every vice he abhors in men is also a vice in women. Furthermore, some of the qualities he wishes to avoid are actually virtues misapplied, like my weak language. My gentle words would be appropriate in some delicate interpersonal situations. That’s called tact. Staying silent in the face of injustice is a vice; a lack of courage. That’s why I am writing a response to this post. Attacking a person because of their opinions is a vice; a lack of gentleness. That’s why I am taking out the snarky insulting comments.

Words pour again. They are firm but not emotional. No apology, no attacks. I laugh as I write, thinking about how many times I turn in a first draft of an essay. I resolve to always give myself time to revise my writing so I can catch the weakness or tactlessness in my writing. Five bucks says I won’t keep that resolution for even a full week.

This blog post lacks gentleness, which is a virtue for men and women. I end up telling him that his whole post is pointless because he is making a point exclusively for men that should be applied to men and women. I have essentially argued that men and women are not at all different. I hate it when I argue that. My traditional upbringing and my progressive higher education clash leaving my convictions in a confused jumble. There is a difference between men and women, beyond biology. I just don’t know what it is yet. I don’t think it has anything to do with what virtues they should practice. That’s all.

I am arguing about his audience again. Why should I bother? I delete my comment draft, close the browser window and sit back in my chair. The Art and Music Center is quiet and I have three more hours as building manager. I want to call one of my male friends and ask his opinion. Maybe he will tell me that I am being picky and annoying. Maybe I can out argue him. I always feel very pleased with myself when I can out argue him. He likes to tease me, saying insulting things in jest to see how far I will bend before I break and say something insulting back. I don’t like to play that game. Usually I can’t actually think of anything insulting to say. Then I don’t want to say it because, jest or not, we are less connected at the end of the conversation. I don’t need any help separating myself from people. It’s understanding and connecting that is the hard part.

Now that I am tuned in so keenly, I can see specific words that I object to. Why does he describe gentleness as “feminized crap?” Women like me tend to use weak language. I assert my femininity by inviting stronger opinions to overrule mine. I am gentle, willing to listen and eager to understand. The school system, which has been teaching men to write far longer than women, has done it’s best to slash this habit out of me with a red pen. I appreciate it. Men like the writer of this particular blog tend to use hyperbole. They assert their masculinity by using very strong language. They verbally abuse their opposition, leaving their readers with an impression of unyielding absolutes, despite half hearted qualifiers that bare wittess to an education (recently balanced by the presence of women) that warns against broad generalizations. The blogger might disregard my comment for its weakness and emotional language. I find it difficult to connect to the blog post because of its bombastic strength and emotional language. The battle of the sexes continues. Our negotiations aren’t going very well.