Women are people

Image via Thinkstock
Image via Thinkstock

Until women are treated like people, it’s evident that women are not seen as people

By Rebecca Peterson, Staff Writer

It should be obvious. Women are people. This is hardly a controversial school of thought; at least, it hasn’t been since 1929 in Canada, legally.

The letter of the law, however, does nothing to combat social consciousness, and in that respect, women are still widely not thought of as people.

This might seem like an extreme statement. However, the widespread treatment of women is telling. Let me provide some examples:

Last week while at work, a man on the street took issue with the fact that I didn’t want to talk to him. He followed me for a block to my workplace, where I managed to slip inside a building to get away from him. Looking back over my shoulder, I saw that two of my coworkers had to physically bar the man from coming in after me, and still he pushed to get past them, reaching for me over their shoulders.

Creepy. And one incident certainly doesn’t prove a societal phenomenon.

The problem is, however, it isn’t a case of “one incident.” In telling this story to other women in my life, the responses I’ve received have widely been along the lines of “yeah, something like that happened to me, once.” It’s not even a shocking story anymore—it’s practically expected that other women have similar experiences.

It’s not the first time I’ve had my work disrupted because a man has felt entitled to my time and attention. Much of my work requires me to be standing in the public eye, either guarding things or keeping people from wandering into places where they shouldn’t go. Just as you wouldn’t go up to a security guard, block their view, and start asking them personal questions, you would think someone in my position would receive the same courtesy.

I’m not. I’ve been trapped in my position, forced to find a polite way to tell someone that I don’t appreciate their attention or comments about my body, which sometimes inspires more wrath and ire than it’s worth. And again, when sharing these stories with other women, the response I seem to get most often is “yeah, that’s happened to me.”

It’s been proven to me time and time again that even while wearing a safety vest and work clothes, there are men who look at me and don’t see a person at work, but a target to be pursued. You don’t follow a person for two blocks when they’ve expressed disinterest—you might do that to a cat, but not a human being. It’s normalized for women to be harassed and have their space invaded at every given opportunity; it is not normalized for men to undergo the same treatment.

It’s frustrating, disheartening, and infuriating, and even in writing this I know that there are some who won’t take my words seriously because I’m a woman. This, too, has been proven to me before. I was once at an event where a man was asking a group of young female feminists questions. The feminists tried to patiently explain their answers, only to get cut off before they could finish a sentence. Eventually, a young man wandered over and made the same points, which the first man listened to avidly.

In an experiment at a university in the States, rĂ©sumĂ©s were e-mailed out to faculty for consideration. The rĂ©sumĂ©s were all the same, but some were titled with a woman’s name while others had a man’s name. The rĂ©sumĂ©s labeled as belonging to a man were viewed far more favourably than those belonging to a woman.

Our gender comes before all else: our words, our actions, our opinions. No one is exempt from the assumptions made about women. I, too, find myself judging women differently from men, and it’s always disheartening to realize.

Until we start seeing women as people, we will have to start using men as placeholders in our lines of thought. Think of it this way: if a man wrote this article, would you take the content more or less seriously?