Writing from a Medieval and Renaissance Conference, at which I am surrounded by not just hundreds, but thousands of academics and scholars from all over the globe, I can’t really help but be prompted to think a bit about what it means to be an academic.
My musings began on the flight over. During the second leg of the trip, two men were seated in the row behind me, a older and a younger, seemingly strangers, discussing the younger man’s life and career. He was in aviation administration somehow – this was not of particular interest to me – and was on a trip to visit his girlfriend, who is still in school. When the older gentleman asked what she did, the younger replied “She’s a women’s studies major. But don’t worry, she’s not one of those man-hating types,” to which the other replied, “What the hell do you do with that?” the disdain evident in his tone.
Part of me wanted to turn around and smack them both., but things like laws and federal aviation behavior requirements kept me facing forward and seething invisibly in my seat. While I give the boyfriend kudos for calmly explaining that the girlfriend wants to go into politics, “because that stuff is useful, I guess,” I couldn’t quite give him enough to make me not want to scream. First of all, the caveat – “But don’t worry, she’s not one of those man-hating types” – was both bigoted and entirely unnecessary (she’s dating one, after all). Second of all, he should have enough respect both for her and her choice of career not to be apologetic about her major.
I don’t really blame the other man for wanting to know what career she will enter with the degree (after all, people ask me that all the time, and I’m getting a degree in something nice and non-threatening), but the tone irritated me no end. It was one of those oh-how-cute-the-little-lady-is-getting-an-education tones. The kind that is usually possessed by persons who are under the impression that women belong in the home, making dinner for their menfolk and raising the kids.
And then at the conference I was taught by a female professor how to “shake hands like a man,” because “this is a man’s world, honey, and you got to fight to stay in it.”
I can’t decide which is worse. The chauvinism inherent in the “uneducated masses,” or the self-perpetuating deprecation practiced by women in the profession. We wear masculine-style suits (particularly to job interviews, where, I learned, skirts are a no-no) and blocky clothing designed to hide our figures – so we won’t be distracting. We put on ball-busting attitudes that will, ostensibly, allow us to get ahead. But these are the very things that cause the illusion that we aren’t as good as our male counterparts to be perpetuated.
I’m not exactly the most girly female in the world. But if I want to be girly, then, dammit, let me. Let me earn your respect regardless of whether I act tomboy or butch or fem or frills-and-ponies. I shouldn’t have to – nor should anyone have to – pretend to be something I’m not just to earn the respect I should deserve simply because I’m competent at what I do.
It’s one of the things I generally like about this particular conference. I’m a little out of my time-period, but I enjoy this place because it accepts everybody based on their competence and intelligence, not on what they wear or how “acceptable” they appear. I’ve seen academics here wearing kilts, dresses, period garb, t-shirts and jeans, sundresses, suits, clerical habits, sweats, and – in once case – the weirdest ensemble I’ve ever seen on ANYONE. There’s no pressure to appear or behave in a certain way. Just the expectation that you accord the other people the respect they deserve as people and as scholars. It’s refreshing.
That said, academics are a very strange breed. They live and exist in a world entirely different from the one in which “normal” people operate. They are people to and for whom the historical world is present – as real as the tangible world outside their windows. They’re people who speak a different language and worship different deities than everyone else, people who understand their existence in relation to a past – or even a fiction (as in my case) – they never saw. They worship it like a god, nurture it like a child, and caress it like a lover.
I can think of worse ways to spend our lives.
2 comments:
While I was advised not to wear a skirt, and while I did require handshake lessons, I don't think it's accurate to say that women need to adopt a ball-busting attitude to be accepted in academia. While I'm sure some hiring committees might respond to that sort of attitude, many others are just as liable to be turned off. Confidence is important, obviously, but there's a difference between appearing confident and coming off as ball-busting.
Also, I think we're lucky insofar as we're in a profession that is largely accepting of gender studies and that is increasingly dominated by women. Susan Staves wrote a really fascinating piece on what it was like to be a female academic 35 years ago when she was starting out, and we face very little of that condescension today. In fact, there's only one person who's ever condescended to me or devalued my work and he's a grad student in our dept. A grad student with, um, other issues.
"Issues." Yes.
I think that while the sentiment this particular lady expressed was probably right once, that it is no longer what it was. I have been condescended to at conferences... but whether that's because of my comparative youth or my gender or both, I couldn't say. It was always by older men.
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