Gender Awareness Month

Our faculty meetings are themed events. Last spring semester, the theme was Gender Awareness Month which coincided with Double Standards Awareness Month. The people who decide what we should be aware of every month cram a lot of awareness into every month as if we don’t already have enough to distract us. Just how many things is the human mind capable of being aware of simultaneously before it becomes too dangerous for one to even tie his own shoes for fear of awareness oversaturation?

Someone should run a study of this pressing social problem.  I’ll ask a former student who took a grant writing class this semester to help me write a proposal, and she and I can embark upon this journey together. Maybe we can tie it in with some sort of survey of gender, writing ability, and ethnic privilege.

Maybe the whole Awareness Month thing is about bonding, but I never feel any closer to anyone after any of these meetings.

I can see a small connection between being aware of gender and double standards (separately, of course). Women have to contend with glass ceilings in their careers and a reported shortage of toilets in football stadiums, concert halls, WalMarts, and other places of mass gathering. (I’ll overlook the fact that this department is overrun with women and the fact that the last two department chairs were held by women, and that the university maintenance engineer swears that  the faculty women’s bathrooms rival the Taj Mahal in spaciousness. I’ll take his word for it. His name is Ravi.

Last spring the faculty was encouraged to assume a role or engage in a behavior common to the  opposite sex.

Wait. We were encouraged to assume a role or engage in a behavior common to a DIFFERENT sex and/or gender.  (It’s confusing, and I have only a tenuous grasp of the many perceived differences).  In addition, we were encouraged to be aware that “we” (i.e., men) adhere to a code of double standards. Nobody EVER talks about the double standards that favor women.

Fine.

At the following faculty meeting, we were asked to tell what we had done to observe Gender Awareness Month. It got off to a bad start.

“I horked up an oyster and spit it on the sidewalk,” Emily, the new young female lecturer volunteered. I wonder how long it took her to think that one up. I also wonder what sort of company she keeps.

“I’m carrying a double-strength prophylactic in my purse,” the female Women and Gender Studies professor said. “And pepper spray.” (I have to remember pepper spray for next year’s Gender Awareness Month. I have no idea what pepper spray and double strength prophylactics have to do with gender awareness, but I’ll work it in).

There was an admission by one professor that she wrote her husband a love letter forgiving him for being a slob, and that —slob or not— she will always love him. To underscore her awareness of the disparity in their genders, she said, she threw her dirty clothes on the floor too.

Then they turned to the male faculty— all six of us. (There are actually seven of us but the Queer Theory guy didn’t make the meeting. He rarely shows up).

“I changed the baby’s diaper last night,” a young male first-year lecturer said meekly.

“YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO DO THAT!”

That doesn’t look like much in type, but when you hear twenty-five or thirty women say it in unison, it’s pretty scary. It seemed planned. I wonder if the women have separate, secret faculty meetings. It would be just like them. They're always one step ahead of the guys.

Then it was my turn. I had forgotten about the Gender Awareness thing.  I wasn’t ready for the meeting, and my mind raced to think of a different gender behavior that I could conceive of engaging in.

“I’m wearing my wife’s panty hose,” I said. “My wife complains that they’re uncomfortable and inconvenient, and I must admit that both are legitimate complaints. You women should be awarded medals for what you must bear every day. I can’t imagine what a brassiere would do to my psyche.”

Silence. I think I shocked everyone but not for long.

“I want to see and touch those panty hose you claim you’re wearing,” the department chair (a woman) demanded.

I reminded her that it was also Double Standards Awareness Month and that her request evinced a gross (if not illegal) double standard. I reminded her that if I asked to see and touch her panty hose, I’d probably be fired. (Sometimes I amaze myself at how fast I can think of snappy come-backs).

When the rest of the men were polled, each one falsely admitted to being a panty hose guy too. After the meeting, they thanked me for saving them. They had forgotten about the Awareness Month too. I think they were shaken up by the reaction to Mr. Baby Diaper as much as I was.

I don’t think the meeting accomplished much in the way of bonding, but it surely elevated my self-esteem. I stood up to the department chair, and I struck a blow for maleness, even if I lied. The women had to take our word for it. If that isn’t equality, I don’t know what is.

I just checked the calender's next Awareness Month. It’s a short list, but it is (among other things) Scleroderma Awareness Month. I have no idea what scleroderma is, but it sounds like it oozes and is highly contagious. I think I’ll get another cup of coffee, walk to my office and lock the door. I may even cancel classes for the rest of the fall term. The students are all getting C’s whether they learn anything or not.

Besides, they should stay home if they have scleroderma.