August 10, 2010

Owning Your Title, Derogatory or Not

There is something disturbing about a woman who's pushing 85, sitting just three seats away from you at a table during a meeting, mouthing the words "She's a bitch" to another one of her cronies while you're speaking. I guess I'm happy I found this out many hours after the meeting had ended, because I'm afraid that if I saw her doing it during the meeting, I might have become an even bigger one.

It is absolutely amazing to me that a generation of women who fought so hard for equality would try even harder to keep one of their own down. We may have 50 or 60 years between us, but we were both born with ovaries.

It's difficult for me to understand their line of thinking because I was blessed so many years with a grandmother who was quite progressive. She chose to wait until the age of 27 to get married. She was the one who made the first move to pick up my Pop-Pop in a bar. Forget the old-fashioned courting; she knew what she wanted. She spent all of her young life working in factories to support her family. She was a classy woman, but she was no one's doormat. She wasn't your typical woman of that era; she was that and so much more. It's times like this that I miss her even more than usual, because I know she would be clicking her tongue, shaking her head in disgust and preparing to go to battle for me.

Historically, ladies auxiliary groups were formed in support of an organization, because women were not allowed to be on the Board of Directors. They weren't permitted to have any type of influence other than a role that supported a club or group, almost like a charity within the group. Now, there are women in positions of leadership in corporations and groups worldwide. Our own board of directors has five women out of 15 positions; and two of the four executive committee members are women. One would think that this would be a real positive for the women at the club who have been there for decades, but more times than not, it seems their only interest is in self-preservation and keeping one of their own down. . .

"I didn't have that opportunity, so you shouldn't either."

It puts a 30-some-year old woman in quite a conundrum. Raised to respect my elders, what does one do in this situation? When a woman 50 years your senior is treating you no better than that catty 8th grader who was ticked that Joey asked you to dance instead of her, what should you do?

What's even more disturbing about the entire situation is that during this meeting, there were several men who were much more outspoken than I was, yet no derogatory comments were uttered about any of them. It was during my two minutes of professional but stern questioning about a legitimate issue, that I reinforced my title of "bitch." If you are an outspoken man, you're a leader; but if you're an outspoken woman, you're a bitch.

It's a double standard that I've learned to accept, because it's been that way as long as I can remember. The troubling thing for me is that this stereotype isn't perpetuated by a man in this case, it's by a group of older ladies, our country club's equivalent to an unruly biker gang. Our "biker gang" doesn't go out and start fights in bars; they just want their tuna melts served piping hot or else all hell is going to break loose. And for the love of God, can someone please put duck back on the menu?

I guess I should be happy because I have held several titles during my months on the board. I started out as the "little blonde," moved quickly to "scary blonde" despite the fact that I had dyed my hair brown for a bit, and now I guess I should feel that I've arrived. Bitch it is. At least they're now noticing me for what I say and do, not my hair color. That has to be a positive.

The shame of it is that there are some wonderful women in this group; they are just overshadowed and out-voiced by a few who have given their entire organization a reputation fraught with negativity.

To that sub-set of women though, I'd just like to point out that resorting to the word "bitch" when your back is against a wall, because that "bitch" just so happens to have called you on the carpet, doesn't hurt my feelings. It just makes me realize how outdated the whole "respect your elders" standard really happens to be. I'll respect those who respect me. Age doesn't give an individual carte blanche to say whatever you want and do whatever you please; and frankly, I think your mothers and their mothers would be ashamed of you. I know my grandmother is, and I'm pretty sure Susan B. Anthony would think more of the same.

As far as my "title" goes, I'm going to own it. To me, it says I'm doing a good job of speaking out instead of shrinking into the background. It says I'm making people uncomfortable, as well they should be, when they've done something reprehensible. Frankly, having them call me names and hate me so much is affirmation that I'm the opposite of them, doing the right and smart thing, and that alone is enough to satisfy me. A good friend of mine says, "people either love you or hate you and there's no money in the middle." I don't think anyone has ever accused me of hanging out in the middle. Now, that is something that would offend me.