Guest post: Moronic workplace patriarchy
I'm excited, Dear Reader. Today, I'm doing something that is a first for this blog-- have a guest author write here. The author has chosen to remain anonymous for personal reasons, and I shall do my best to introduce her to you while retaining her anonymity. She is a fellow bookworm, an enormous movie buff and an absolute wizard with words. She is also a wonderful friend of mine, someone who I look up to a great deal and someone whose brain I enjoy picking whenever I get the chance. Without further ado, I present to you a thought provoking and well-written article, one that I encourage you to read and share, and also ponder upon. This article touches upon several aspects in an anecdotal fashion: societal notions of beauty, workplace patriarchy, boundaries of acceptable workplace conversation and several other nuances.
This was also the article that inspired my earlier post On warped notions of beauty as well as my take on Lutalica.
Disclaimer: All credits and rights for the content in this post, including the title, rest with the original author.
My friends ask me all the time why I don’t write more often. Today, I am gonna confess in public that which I have confided only in a few. I can write only when I’m welled with emotions — anger being the predominant one. Words flow effortlessly when I’m livid. And of late, I am being bombarded incessantly with bizarre situations, enough to rile me up for the next decade. Let me briefly discuss today, one such tea-time interlude.
A bunch of us gathered for our usual respite from work around 3:30, with piping hot tea and heads full of opinions to accompany. A little digression is warranted here. It’s not so much the tea that I fancy about in this daily ritual. It is the gamut of topics and the myriad schools of thought that float around the table that makes it difficult for me to give it a pass. I seldom actively participate though. I just like being around, assimilating as much information my brain can handle.
I’d want to say that today was no different. But oh no! Today will go down in my personal annals, as one of those million other days that taught me for the zillionth time, the lowest levels that people are capable of reaching. Not so different from any other day, eh?
So a colleague, out of the blue, decided to mock me by pointing out that I have facial hair. This guy, a son, a brother, a husband, a father and most importantly, 2 pay scales above my grade, called me out for having facial hair. In an instant, I went red seething with anger. And reacted in the only way I know to react when my senses are clouded by a single emotion — I got up and walked away. If you thought that ought to serve as a cue to the dude in question, that I’m hurt, nope, you are very wrong! Remember what I said about the “lowest levels people can reach”? As I was walking away, he called out to the rest of the lot at the table, “Now X is running away!”.
What I cannot still fathom about the whole incident (which in itself is weird enough), is the fact that, everybody present there, including the perpetrator (yep, it is a criminal offence, at least to me) thought that I was ashamed/worried for being outed in public. The perp guy thought I was “running away” for fear of being de-robed next. And the others thought that I was worrying about being made fun of in public. One of them even asked me if I were crying after.
What made me walk away was my uncontainable anger. And what made me angry was the fact that this guy had the audacity to ridicule the physical appearance of his team mate. That he had been holding me to his own warped standards of beauty. That he thought that it was “okay” to tell me that I should care more about how I look. That he felt it to be a “normal” conversational trope. I pity the women in his house. Most of all, I pity his better half! She should literally be worshipped in a temple. But honestly, I have always thought that education, experience and exposure liberate people from their shackled mindsets — those that form the very core of an “Indian” household. And time and again, I have been proved wrong.
Another thing that’s bugging me is the stance my fellow teammates took. No one told the perp guy that what he said was not a “normal” thing to say. Instead they took turns consoling me and asked me to ignore the incident. A couple of months back when I was entangled in another bizzare situation (I do have a tendency, don’t I?), involving a degrading remark, I was expecting my male counterparts to step in and defend. But sadly a few of them didn’t even realize that the comment was of derogatory nature. And it speaks more about me than my colleagues/friends. Why do I play the damsel in distress and always wait for others to play my defense? Now, don’t get me wrong here. I am extremely grateful and thankful for having made such genuine friends in a very short time — people who really care about my well being and state of mind. But was it wrong of me to expect them to stand with me to confront than help me forget? Or is this the highest level of concern that I can draw from a fellow human? Or are all these questions only rhetorical?
Having said all of that, I’m not going to do anything about it either! Other than writing about it. May be ineptitude to action is why I simply write when I’m angry. I’d like to confront, yes, but all I do is be passive aggressive.
And finally, to give you a sense of why it’s not a big deal, here is an excellent article on female facial hair:
https://www.theguardian.com/fashion/2017/nov/30/female-facial-hair-if-so-many-women-have-it-why-are-we-so-deeply-ashamed
This was also the article that inspired my earlier post On warped notions of beauty as well as my take on Lutalica.
Disclaimer: All credits and rights for the content in this post, including the title, rest with the original author.
My friends ask me all the time why I don’t write more often. Today, I am gonna confess in public that which I have confided only in a few. I can write only when I’m welled with emotions — anger being the predominant one. Words flow effortlessly when I’m livid. And of late, I am being bombarded incessantly with bizarre situations, enough to rile me up for the next decade. Let me briefly discuss today, one such tea-time interlude.
A bunch of us gathered for our usual respite from work around 3:30, with piping hot tea and heads full of opinions to accompany. A little digression is warranted here. It’s not so much the tea that I fancy about in this daily ritual. It is the gamut of topics and the myriad schools of thought that float around the table that makes it difficult for me to give it a pass. I seldom actively participate though. I just like being around, assimilating as much information my brain can handle.
I’d want to say that today was no different. But oh no! Today will go down in my personal annals, as one of those million other days that taught me for the zillionth time, the lowest levels that people are capable of reaching. Not so different from any other day, eh?
So a colleague, out of the blue, decided to mock me by pointing out that I have facial hair. This guy, a son, a brother, a husband, a father and most importantly, 2 pay scales above my grade, called me out for having facial hair. In an instant, I went red seething with anger. And reacted in the only way I know to react when my senses are clouded by a single emotion — I got up and walked away. If you thought that ought to serve as a cue to the dude in question, that I’m hurt, nope, you are very wrong! Remember what I said about the “lowest levels people can reach”? As I was walking away, he called out to the rest of the lot at the table, “Now X is running away!”.
What I cannot still fathom about the whole incident (which in itself is weird enough), is the fact that, everybody present there, including the perpetrator (yep, it is a criminal offence, at least to me) thought that I was ashamed/worried for being outed in public. The perp guy thought I was “running away” for fear of being de-robed next. And the others thought that I was worrying about being made fun of in public. One of them even asked me if I were crying after.
What made me walk away was my uncontainable anger. And what made me angry was the fact that this guy had the audacity to ridicule the physical appearance of his team mate. That he had been holding me to his own warped standards of beauty. That he thought that it was “okay” to tell me that I should care more about how I look. That he felt it to be a “normal” conversational trope. I pity the women in his house. Most of all, I pity his better half! She should literally be worshipped in a temple. But honestly, I have always thought that education, experience and exposure liberate people from their shackled mindsets — those that form the very core of an “Indian” household. And time and again, I have been proved wrong.
Another thing that’s bugging me is the stance my fellow teammates took. No one told the perp guy that what he said was not a “normal” thing to say. Instead they took turns consoling me and asked me to ignore the incident. A couple of months back when I was entangled in another bizzare situation (I do have a tendency, don’t I?), involving a degrading remark, I was expecting my male counterparts to step in and defend. But sadly a few of them didn’t even realize that the comment was of derogatory nature. And it speaks more about me than my colleagues/friends. Why do I play the damsel in distress and always wait for others to play my defense? Now, don’t get me wrong here. I am extremely grateful and thankful for having made such genuine friends in a very short time — people who really care about my well being and state of mind. But was it wrong of me to expect them to stand with me to confront than help me forget? Or is this the highest level of concern that I can draw from a fellow human? Or are all these questions only rhetorical?
Having said all of that, I’m not going to do anything about it either! Other than writing about it. May be ineptitude to action is why I simply write when I’m angry. I’d like to confront, yes, but all I do is be passive aggressive.
And finally, to give you a sense of why it’s not a big deal, here is an excellent article on female facial hair:
https://www.theguardian.com/fashion/2017/nov/30/female-facial-hair-if-so-many-women-have-it-why-are-we-so-deeply-ashamed
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