I have always been an independent person. The older I get, the more aware I am of what it means to be a woman in society today and what it meant to women in times before mine. And I recognize a strong desire to hold to the feminist ideals that I have always embraced (even before I knew what feminism was).
It’s not that I’m an expert at all. Books on feminist theory are definitely on this perpetual list of mine of books I know I should read but haven’t gotten around to yet. So that counts for something, right?
Anyway, I think ideas on feminism can be picked up by just living and ingesting all that happens to you and what you find is happening to other women.
It’s here that I sometimes find little catches in my approach to remaining determinatively independent.
So this is my dilemma. I was out on a date this summer and as we stood at the box office, my brain sort of fogged and I could not, for the life of me, remember how this was all supposed to work.
Do I duck behind this guy and assume he’ll buy my ticket? Do I take out my wallet just in case? And should he be expected to pay? After all, we are both college students on a budget.
Coming to my senses, I remembered how this kind of thing plays out, and I waited for him to pay, averting any real embarrassment. (Well, displacing it for the time being anyway.)
But some nagging thought in my subconscious got the better of me and I thought, “What the heck equality, independence and all that I’m going to ask him to a movie next. My treat.”
I did and we saw “Finding Nemo.” He didn’t call me back. Hey, you owe me seven bucks! Ah well.
Maybe it’s just to ignore or fend off feelings of rejections but could my attempt at bringing a balance to the dating game have chased him off? Hmmm.
Furthermore, I’ve been accused of walking too fast when I’m supposed to be strolling along looking at stars.
Hello! I am 5 feet 11 inches tall. These legs don’t take short strides. Pick up the pace and stop complaining. I like my walk just fine, thanks.
Something that gets me confused, though, is this whole chivalry thing. True story: A guy reaches to open the door for me, and I literally have to jump back to give him a chance because I am already halfway across the threshold.
I actually got out of my date’s car once and had to scurry back in very ungracefully so that he could come all the way around and open my door for me.
His response to my mad dash: “You American girls.”
Now why do I gripe when a guy doesn’t think to hold the door open (even my brother gets reminders from me), but then I also feel that it’s ok if I charge through the door first once in a while?
I like that I can count on myself to move a box from point A to point B. But, you know what? If that box is too heavy (and it generally is) then I won’t discriminate against anyone who can help me move it, so long as it ends up at point B.
I know there are many more pressing issues for women today: health care, welfare and sexist advertising; but it’s these day to day dilemmas that have me in knots. I don’t know whether to plant myself in a stance of fixed independence or call a truce and accept the occasional act of chivalry when it comes my way.
Really, I should probably just be getting to those books on that list.
Bailey Porter, a junior journalism major, is LV Life editor of the Campus Times. She can be reached by e-mail at porterb@ulv.edu.
