What makes a phrase more audible when it comes out of a man rather than a woman? “Did I not just say that?” I asked the girl sitting right next to me in class. She looked at me and had the same puzzled look as I did. “That’s what she just said!” Her voice was not loud enough for the man to hear, but it definitely made me feel better. I was surprised, however, with how well I took the situation. Maybe I had just been through it enough times to just not care whatsoever.
It was my Wednesday class—the one I actually liked in my first semester at graduate school. The class covered a topic quite significant for the goal I had in mind for myself: Human Resources Management. Our class was covering a specific case study regarding employee vacation time and pay. I really liked my professor and respected him a lot. He was one of those that realized being a rude pressuring teacher was not going to help the already overstressed students at all. He kept the class casual, laid back and quite entertaining. I felt a sense of duty to give back to him by participating in discussions whenever I was confident enough. Today was one of those days. I read the case study in pure detail, highlighted all significant points, and raised my hand immediately as he asked the class who would like to give us a summary. I usually kept to myself and allowed someone else to take care of that, but today I was ready and excited.
Although I volunteered to answer, I still got nervous. Anytime the attention is on me and there is the pressure to speak, I will shake and worry. To the best of my ability and knowledge, I explained what I understood from the reading and stopped when I felt I had finished. The professor seemed satisfied with my response and he asked the class, “Does anyone have anything else to add to this?” Immediately he raised his hand—the man sitting on the opposite end of the classroom. Since day one, I sensed he was not the easiest person to deal with, but I never really took into consideration that he did not like me. But after today, I realized that all the times he had rolled his eyes at my comments or laughed at my questions, it came from this dislike he had towards me. “I have no idea what she just said! It made no sense! But what I got from the readings was…” and he continued on to babble exactly what I said before. Half the classroom turned to see my reaction to his rude disagreement with my interpretation and I just smiled—coolly shrugging it off like it did not matter. Most were females, taking pity on me for being so rudely disregarded like an uneducated immigrant who said something stupid and he just made it sensible.
But with all honesty, somehow it did not offend me or upset me. It reminded me of the first time I experienced such rudeness from a man—such real sexism from a supposedly “educated” and “mature” man to be respected. HA! That was the day I was offended and deeply hurt; the day my eyes were opened to the reality of the men we have today.
The room was cold—the air conditioner was on to ventilate the stuffy small orange and green room. Twelve of us sat around a large square shaped wooden table, holding our papers and pens, jotting notes on upcoming plans and proposals for our organization. This was the first group I really got involved in and I had such great hopes and goals for us—now I barely know if they can make it to tomorrow. Anyway, we were contemplating ideas for fun activities and events to host for our community’s families. A consensus for a spiritual hiking trip came about and it was great. I absolutely loved the idea and we soon began discussing the details of this event—the when and where and who. Somehow the decision for a Sunday afternoon/evening hike came about and I disagreed. Although I no longer had school to worry about, I thought of my siblings. That would be a school night for them, and after a long afternoon and evening of hiking, the last thing they need is to return home late and sleep even later. So I gathered up all my courage (being one of the few women amongst many men) and spoke up. “I honestly think we should shift it over to a Saturday OR a Sunday followed by a Monday that is a holiday. Or if that is too difficult, move the time up a few hours so that every child can be home with their families by 7:30pm/8:00pm max.” That may sound corny or a time that no one would really need to sleep at—but that was not my concern. If the child wanted to sleep late, fine, but as an organization, it is our duty to have the children back by a proper and modest time.
Has anyone ever seen the movie Just Like Heaven? Suddenly I felt like Reese Witherspoon—unheard and invisible. It was as if I had not even opened my mouth. Exactly like Reese in the movie, she talked and talked and her sister, standing right beside her, could not even feel her presence. The only person who could hear her was ONE guy—and I was blessed enough to have that ONE guy there with me at the meeting too. But the feeling of being ignored so obviously is quite irritating; knowing that you have a point and a pulse, but having it go completely unacknowledged—argh! The group continued to finalize the planning for Sunday late afternoon to evening. The book on that was about to be closed and the next point was reached when a boy, just a few seats away from me, made an interrupting sound. “Uh…actually, I am thinking about it and Sunday is a school night in my opinion. So coming back that late would just ruin my schedule and leave me tired for school the next day. You think we could shift it over to a Saturday or early Sunday?” This time, but this time, I was furious! The thing was however, I had to hold my tongue. How “emotionally unstable” (as men say) would I look had I exclaimed, “Didn’t I just say that?!?!” So instead, I watched, sitting on fire, burning mad, I watched how the group reacted to this MALE’S concern.
If I already was not angry enough that this guy spoke out like I had not mentioned the same point just 47 seconds before, the group’s reaction raised the temperature. “Hmmm, you’re right! That might actually be an issue for some. How many of you think we should change the schedule because it could conflict with the school night?” asked the MAN in charge. How I controlled myself I have no idea, but I had just witnessed pure sexism, right there before my very own eyes. Yes, the stupid jokes about women belonging in the kitchen were irritating, and the egotistic ways some men think they can order us around to get them coffee or tea is upsetting, BUT THIS, this crossed the lines because there was no joke or game behind it. It was pure unfiltered sexism.
I was truly grateful for my savior that day—the one man that did hear me. He tried to slip in the phrase, “Yes, just as Dania mentioned, I do believe that it conflicts with the school night.” I remember he was sweet enough to bring it up again at the next meeting, when they were putting the final touches on the trip and confirming the day. He said, “Well we already talked about it. Remember Dania brought to our attention the idea of the school night issue, so we decided Saturday.”
That was the day I left that group with a new disappointment. If with this, stupid, petty, useless thing they had to be sexist, then what is left? It irritated me as well how all the remaining girls just accepted it. One of the greatest aspects of Islam is the wholesome status it gives its women. I wear this scarf so that you can SEE me as (1) a person sitting right there next to you and (2) a human with a mind, just like yours, that can conjure up ideas just as good, or even better than you. In turn, these men and society, has shifted it into the idea of pure oppression and something they can control.
Well honey, here is my pure unfiltered opinion: Unfortunately, I no longer have faith or trust in you or your generation leading us anywhere. Just watch a WOMAN lead the way please! And that is what SHE SAID.
