Sexism in the workplace
Today I went through three stages of thoughts on sexism.
Most of you know that I work at a motorcycle shop in San Diego. If you didn’t, then now you have a piece of knowledge required to understand this post.
Stage One:
Customers call from all over the country to purchase, get pricing or ask questions about motorcycle parts and accessories. Today, a customer asked me on the phone, “What do you do there? Are you the secretary?” This has happened several times, but sometimes it comes in the form of “Are you the receptionist?” “Do you answer the phones there?” or even just “Parts please.” The latter is my favorite, since I love pausing for a short moment and then saying, “Parts, how can I help you?” I always find it amusing that men think I couldn’t possibly help them with their inquiry because I am a woman.
Stage Two:
Then tonight I went to my Multicultural Foundations of Education class, which we lovingly refer to as “How to be a Politically Correct Teacher” class. We discussed discrimination in its many evil forms. In our small groups, I referenced the questions that I often get at the shop. The responses of disbelief and anger over those questions made me, in turn, get angry. I began to think that the underlying statement in all of these questions is “How could you, a woman, possibly be knowledgeable about a man’s sport?” I began to think back to the times when men have chosen to wait for another salesperson to become available in order to ask motorcycle-related questions that I could have answered just as well. Or how one of my co-workers told me that I would “never be able to tell the difference” between different tires because I’m “just not that good a rider.” And what about the countless times that I have been walking in public with my helmet and men have stopped me to express how shocked they are that I ride? Are they assuming that a woman does not have the cognitive or physical ability to operate a particular class of motor vehicle?
Stage Three:
On my initially angry ride home from class I came to the realization that it really is just what I thought it was this morning: amusing. I am no less of a person or a rider because some men find it surprising that I participate in the sport. The fact of the matter is, there aren’t that many women into sport bike riding. I myself am surprised when I see another woman out on the road. If I were to call a motorcycle company and a woman says “How can I help you,” I might not assume that she would be the person doing my oil change if I were to schedule one that day.
The main point I want to make is, I wasn’t angry about it until my professor and my classmates made me think I should be. Then I thought about it, and the longer I thought I came up with more and more acts of discrimination that I deal with every day. But you know what? It’s just life, and part of it is shocking people every once in a while. :)