Spending time with my nieces, aged one and four, last week and seeing them discover the world has reminded me of that blissful time when I was just a kid too. I use the word kid here deliberately. I went about my day as a little person, not identifying with my gender as being a girl. I loved reading, climbing trees, playing football, dresses with flowers in the brightest colours, and cooking with my dad. Well, I liked to eat things while watching him cook.
I remember vividly the first time I was picked on because I was a girl. I was nine, a boy in my class kicked me in the crotch – surprisingly painful – because I scored too many goals playing football. The teacher made me listen to his insincere apology, rather than speaking with him about why he felt angry at me enjoying playing football. Both my classmate and me were let down on that day, let down by the patriarchal approach to our education and the teacher’s failure to support us to challenge gender stereotypes, with my voice silenced and his feelings of aggression unaddressed.
Since that moment I have learned that despite how I feel about my capabilities or needs, others will have opinions on what I should or shouldn’t be doing and saying, simply because I am a women. This is not only incredibly tiresome, but also has a real, lasting impact on my life and the lives of women across society. It impacts the jobs we get hired for and what we get paid for them (on average women are paid 77% of what men get). It impacts the quality of healthcare and education we receive.
