Look. I know you didn’t mean to, but you did.
You seem like a super nice person. In fact, I’ve always liked you the most in our class because you wear your flannel pajama pants unapologetically and have a voice that reminds me a lot of a sesame street character in the best possible way. But I have to use you as an example here because I sat in class today with that all too familiar unbearable feeling of wanting to jump but immediately getting a swift and firm pat on the head.
We were discussing an anonymous open letter written in 2016 to Disney over spec script for the live-action remake of Mulan titled The Legend of Mulan. The general idea of this letter addressed the problematic themes written into this script that introduced a white male savior character, making a majority of the film about his story and how ultimately he saves Ancient China, entirely taking away a role that once rightfully belonged to a powerful female character, and stood as an inspiration for many young girls. In the middle of sharing a point about the issues with this script, I heard a deep voice from the right side of me pipe in, elaborating on his own findings in the letter.
The striking irony was honestly humorous. In the middle of discussing how one fictional male character essentially stole the voice of a story told and driven by the female voice, I felt my own voice taken away. I had to literally catch myself before I laughed out loud.
This was a very minor instance and I am in no way claiming that me not being able to complete my sentence in class equates to the very real and prevalent occurrence of male vocal dominance in the news, in the film industry, in the home, or in educational systems. But, the two cases undeniably go hand in hand.
When women are interrupted, it sends a clear and loud signal that our voice is considered unimportant. That what we have to say is either irrelevant or truly just isn’t being listened to at all. It is no coincidence that my pet peeve is being interrupted. This has been built up from countless memories of trying to state an opinion in a group project, at the dinner table, or even hanging out with friends and having what I say immediately diminished by a blatant interjection or the words, “No, no, no, you don’t get it.”
Women have a voice. We shouldn’t have to anticipate a blatant interjection any time we open our mouths. The female voice brought the world Frankenstein, Harry Potter, The Mindy Project, some of the best SNL skits ever, Lady Bird, Broad City, the goddamn freaking Oprah show. The female voice is powerful. Don’t interrupt it.
