This week I learned that I am, in fact, a woman.
In one of my sociology classes, we made a list of characteristics that we thought would be classified either as masculine or feminine. Masculine traits included being aggressive, competitive, strong, brave, hairy and lacking emotion. Feminine traits included being sensitive, well groomed, overly emotional, caring, nurturing and modest.
People in our society figure out who is masculine or feminine and how much so by evaluating the person and categorizing them based on how much they exhibit the characteristics of masculinity and femininity.
We are socialized to think this way, so it's something we have done since we were young. That explains why I was teased for throwing like a girl and many of you men only would play Barbies if no one was around to see you. We all know you did, even if you are denying it as you read this.
After class ended, I realized we left some important characteristics off the list. Fixing things around the house, for example, must be a masculine trait. After all, if it were feminine, not as many women would have trouble changing the doorknobs on their bedroom doors, and wouldn't lock themselves in their bedrooms when attempting to do so. At least my roommate was home to help me get out.
We also didn't mention anything in class about how masculine it is to not stop to ask for directions. I realized how much of a masculine trait this is only a few hours after I left class and was lost on the back roads of Appalachian Ohio. I was lost and it was dark and there were deer alongside the road, waiting to jump out as soon as I thought it was safe to actually go the 55 mph speed limit on the winding hills through farmlands and forests.
I'm sure most men would only have cared about hitting deer if they were going to destroy their cars, but I was torn up about the fawn I saw lying on the side of the road because I am so caring and nurturing.
I lacked the masculine trait of bravery and refused to stop at one of the friendly looking houses along the state routes I was driving ' someone who is more masculine would not have been scared to go up to a strange house, just scared to ask for directions.
Instead, I pulled over on a side road and checked my Mapquest directions, which were obviously written by a man because they were unclear and left off vital information ' such as if I needed to be driving north or south on this particular road.
Perhaps I should have taken along a copy of Vision Ohio with me on the road. After all it is the road map for the future of Ohio University and I was out of town because I was trying to get a job and plan for my future.
My feminine sense of direction led me to a small town where I actually had cell phone service, so I was able to use my feminine ability to ask for directions to call one of my friends, and she was able to find a way to get me back to Athens safely ' a half hour later than I originally anticipated.
During the trip I also broke a nail and ripped my pantyhose, which was upsetting because I was extremely well groomed when I first departed.
This is unfortunately not the first time my femininity has caused me difficulty in driving. The last time I drove back to Athens from visiting my boyfriend in Virginia, I spent 20 minutes driving east on I-64 before I realized that I did not want to be driving toward the Atlantic Ocean to go west. Some might try to blame this on stupidity, but I'm going to blame it on the overly emotional aspect of femininity. It was the last time I would see him for two months, and I was distracted when I got on the interstate. I'll use that same excuse to explain missing the exit for the state route that would take me into Athens.
Being so feminine does not explain why I am so masculine when it comes to any sort of competition because I need to win anything and everything. But I guess the modesty of my being feminine makes up for the fact that I throw like a girl.
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Cheryl Sadler
