I love a good graphic tee, and my favorite is a dark green one with white script that reads, “Read Books and Fight the Patriarchy.” This shirt has actually been gifted to me twice, by two different people–a fact that fills me with joy! Two different people thought a shirt about reading and feminism was a perfect gift for me. But I never anticipated that wearing this shirt in public would bring out the misogyny in the men I encountered.
Twice, I’ve been out wearing that shirt when a white male Boomer has decided to argue with me about it. The first time, it was someone I know very well. On the most recent occasion, it was the father of a friend, who had literally just introduced us on a restaurant patio! In both cases, I was so caught off guard. I’m never good at a quick comeback, and I think I just rambled a bit and tried to deflect. If I could go back in time, I’d look at them and say, “Careful, sir. Your misogyny is showing.”
Over the course of these conversations (if we can really call them that), here’s a sample of the comments these men made:
- “What do you mean by patriarchy?”
- “Do you think only women read books?”
- “What’s the alternative to a patriarchy?”
- “Do you really think women would do a better job?”
- “Trust me, men would love to let women take over everything so we could stay at home on the couch.”
Sigh. Where to begin?! (That last comment is the one that almost sent me over the edge. Ladies, I guess we could have all been sitting around on the couch while men held all the positions of power! Sad we missed out on that opportunity.)
First of all, let’s remember this is a t-shirt. I am not writing a dissertation (or, frankly, even recording a TikTok video) about literacy, feminism, and their intersections. It’s a slightly facetious nod to my personal interests and loves. It’s as if every time I saw someone wearing an IU shirt, I began interrogating them about the personal integrity of every player, about Bobby Knight’s anger issues, and about the state government’s recent legislative changes to the board of trustees. Is there a time and place for that kind of conversation? Maybe, especially with someone you know well and who is interested in a good-faith dialogue. But mostly, what I would tell those two men is, “It’s not that serious.”
In both cases, those men read “patriarchy” and assumed my use of the word was a personal attack on them. Their misogyny would not allow for even a hint of criticism, and they could not fathom that a better world might exist for people of all genders. Everywhere I turn, fragile men carry an air of altruism and openness, but in reality, misogyny seeps out into everyday interactions and conversations.
It made me think again about how I’m raising my own kids. To say I don’t want them to be misogynists seems like the lowest of low bars, but in light of all this, it still feels like an important thing to name. I want my children to be people who are curious and humble, who want a world in which all people can thrive.
Inevitably, my children will encounter things that make them feel uncomfortable and might even make them feel attacked–whether a television commercial, a news story, or even the t-shirt someone’s wearing on a patio. When they face those inevitable moments, these are the questions I hope they’ll ask themselves:
- That’s bringing up a lot of feelings in me. I wonder why?
- Why do I feel defensive right now? Is this about me?
- Am I holding on to an idea that is harming someone else?
- What don’t I know about this? What information am I missing?
- Is this a time when I should mind my own business?
- Do I need to comment on this? Is my opinion needed or wanted?
My children are young enough that they don’t understand all the nuances of patriarchy and sexism. But they do get it, and that makes me realize how little excuse grown men have for their own misogyny.
When it comes to sexism, the biggest hurdle we face in my own house is with my uber-competitive, sports-loving son. We are always trying to help him see that female athletes are just as impressive and exciting to watch as male athletes. When I told him that the world’s all-time leading soccer goal scorer is a woman, he really wanted to argue the point. The language we’ve started to use is, “It makes sense that you enjoy watching the men, because you’re a boy! We all tend to gravitate toward people and groups who are similar to us. But don’t miss out on something truly awesome because you can only appreciate people like you.”
I am so, so grateful that my kids weren’t present to hear that guy say, “I’d love for women to take over so I can sit on the couch.” I am, frankly, not interested in “taking over” anything. I want women and non-binary folks to have equal opportunities, and I want us all to have a broader imagination for what equity, shared responsibility, and cooperation could look like in our society. Those men seem to have such small, lazy, and entitled views of the world.
In the meantime, I’m moving on. I am raising my three children to understand the way our hierarchies and systems of oppression have harmed society and to dream of a better way forward.
But I do still wish I could go back to those two men and say, “Careful, sir. Your misogyny is showing.”
