Teaching Girls To Be Nice Is Teaching Them To Be Silent
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Politics and Activism

Teaching Girls To Be Nice Is Teaching Them To Be Silent

My jaw tenses because I know that I too care so much about being liked. I too look down upon the women that do not place value on being nice or being ladylike.

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Teaching Girls To Be Nice Is Teaching Them To Be Silent
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We sit silently in the front seat of his black truck that is frankly too nice for any new driver. It seems like we have been driving forever. I consider asking him to turn on the radio, but the dryness of my mouth prevents words from escaping. His hand wanders to mine and our fingers interlock. For reasons unclear at the time, the hairs on the back of my neck begin to stand up.

Suddenly, the truck comes to a halt. I am unsure of our exact location as we are surrounded by corn fields, and well, this is southern Indiana. I see the faint outline of what must be a sunflower. We must be in Blue Grass. He makes some comment about how out here you can see the stars so vividly that they make even the darkness of a chill summer night disappear. He’s right. I’ve never noticed the natural beauty in this dreadful town.

Before I can blink he pulls me in closer to him. I feel the blood rush to my cheeks and my heart race as our lips touch. I melt. But just as quickly as this moment begins, it ends. The innocence of a kiss disintegrates. His right hand crawls from the side of my face to the back of my head. He pushes and pushes and pushes my head down toward his lap. I look up at him confused, but the scrunching of his eyebrows tell me that by no means is he confused. I squeak out an awkward laugh in hopes of bringing the night to an end. It becomes all too clear that no laugh, no words for that matter will change his mind.

The head bobbing continues.

Bob. I should feel lucky that a guy is even noticing me. Bob. Especially one two years older than me. Bob. I feel so uncomfortable. Bob. But I don’t want to hurt his feelings. Bob. It would be rude of me to say anything. Bob. It was so sweet that he held my hand. Bob. Bob. Bob. Bob. Bobbing. It’s over.


At what point has politeness gone too far? At what point does a young girl lose all sense of agency?

For too many young women this scenario is all too familiar. Never do we say no because no was never taught as an option. The reputation and the ego of our superiors always comes first. And our superiors are always, without a doubt, men. It is because of the society we live in that women believe that damage mustn’t be done to the ego of any man, even if in doing so the woman must compromise her own integrity.

Why is it that we so heavily stress the idea that womanhood encompasses being liked? We aspire to be liked, especially by the man. But what does it mean to be liked? Such an arbitrary concept. Liked. Ladylike. From that word alone idea of being liked and being liked is linked. Men are not taught the necessity of being liked. Rather, they are taught that being liked always the afterthought of respect. Meanwhile, respect is never introduced into the female vocabulary unless in conjunction with having it for yourself. As in, do not by any means let the world know you too partake in sex. And God forbid you enjoy it! So, what is a woman to do when she must not only respect herself, but also show respect for men? She is silent. Because that is the only option she has left.

And if not silent what is she? Irrational? Angry? Irritable? A trouble maker? A bitch? No. She is capitalizing on her human rights.

Please explain to me why if it is that being liked is so important, yet we are not teaching our boys the same? Why do we not teach little boys to mutually show respect for little girls? We live in a culture where putting others before yourself is emphasized. But this emphasis does not apply to all. It is in this culture that men find it acceptable to bob the heads of women closer and closer to their crotch. Because it is not important what a woman thinks of a man. It is only the male gaze that contains worth.

Some may try to argue with the point of many young men silently suffering from anxiety, depression or any other mental health issues. To my opposers, yes, this is a very real problem, but this problem too stems from the male gaze, from the patriarchal system to which we contribute. And I do not use the term "patriarchy" as a means of bashing on men. This is not an attack of men. This is an attack on a system that values masculine characteristics more than feminine characteristics. This systematic constraint does not solely apply to women, but also to men. The male gaze too looks upon them. The man in continuously attached to what the woman is not. And if he does not subside to these restraints, he is looked down upon even by other men.

Once again, I find myself exhausted. My head spins as I try to define what it means to be liked, to be nice. My jaw tenses because I know that I too care so much about being liked. I too look down upon the women that do not place value on being nice or being ladylike.

This is not to say that showing kindness comes without value, or that we should not care about how our actions impact others. But what this is saying is that these traits are not genetic; they do not show up predominantly in female genes. Kindness is taught. My genetics did not cause my submission to men, or my infatuation with how others perceive me. Our society has created a culture where female is synonymous with silence.

But just because we cannot say no does not mean by default we are saying yes.

This article does not address those that do not identify within the binary of gender. By no means am I suggesting that those voices too do not deserve to be heard (because they have many, many stories to tell). This is simply my modest attempt at tackling one issue at a time and avoiding my voice erasing the truth of other voices.
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