stings
Yesterday I was quietly reading bell hooks' feminist theory: from margin to centerin the corner of the break room, not bothering anyone, when my boss plunked down next to me and asked what I was doing. I didn't especially feel like telling him I was reading feminist theory, as I have yet to meet any boy in Southern California who doesn't visibly bristle at the word/start laying a bunch of brainwashed braindead sexist homophobic stereotypical hogwash all over me, so I told him I was jerking off to porn and would he mind letting me complete said jerking off in peace? Of course he didn't: he laughed, ha ha, grabbed the book from my hand, and examined the title.
FEMINIST THEORY, he sees; HOW TO HATE ALL MEN AND BECOME A BIG BUTCH DYKE WHO STEALS ALL THE MEN'S JOBS AND SUES ALL THE MEN FOR SEXUAL HARASSMENT AND CASTRATES ALL THE MEN WHO CROSS HER PATH IN 30 DAYS FLAT.
When he asks me why I am reading a book that hates men (I didn't know books hated men?) I informed him I was reading a book that critiqued problems within the feminist movement and was in fact making a conscious effort to not hate men, as men are oppressed and exploited via racism and classism just as much as women are exploited by sexism and racism and classism and we should be taking over the world together, not hating on each other like fools. He scowls at me and reads a page that says "Many black women refused to participate in feminist movement because they felt the anti-male stance was not a sound basis for action. They were convinced that virulent expressions of these sentiments intensify sexism by adding to the antagonism which already exists between women and men. For years black women (and some black men) had been struggling to overcome the tensions and antagonisms between black females and males that is generated by internalized racism (i.e. when the white patriarchy suggests one group has caused the oppression of the other). Black women were saying to black men, "we are not one another's enemy," "we must resist the socialization that teaches us to hate ourselves and one another." This affirmation of bonding was between black women and men was part of anti-racist struggle had white women's liberationists stressed the need for women and men to resist the sexist socialization that teaches us to hate and fear one another. They chose instead to emphasize hate...."
He grunts about the author being stupid for saying "black" so much, shuts the book, and walks away.
Next day I walk into work and am greeted with something akin to "THE MAN HATER!" Someone complains that working so early sucks, and he looks at me, sneers, and shouts "because THE MAN is trying to KEEP YOU DOWN!" I pick up a box full of clothes and move it to the other side of the room; "WHY DIDN'T YOU HELP HER, JOSE? YOU CAN'T LET GIRRRRRLS DO THE HARD WORK FOR YOU." "How's it going, she-girl? Need a little help, girl? Don't talk like that in front of the girl." I'm not quoting verbatim, because every time he opened his mouth blood rushed to my ears and I could only vaguely make out what he was saying, but it was this type of shit ALL. DAY. LONG.
It really took a lot for me to resist throwing my hot coffee on him and quitting. A LOT. The effort I exerted holding myself back left me as wiped out as an hour-long sob session. I can't even imagine how red my face was, especially considering I don't wear makeup on shipment days.
The way he's acting is seriously tearing me apart, because he is not kidding. He does not say these things with a smile on his face, and no one at work receives things with a smile on their face either. There is no humorous infection in his tone whatsoever -- I know him, I know "how" he jokes around, and these are not said lightly, and these are not meant to be taken lightly. I know am not merely being an oversensitive, whiny little girl, because the guys we work with weren't' laughing at his "jokes," either; for the first half of our shift no one said a fucking word to the other -- and I work with a bunch of hyperactive jokesters, and dead fucking silence never ever ever ever ever happens. The discomfort and tension didn't break until our boss left for a meeting with the manager -- the weary sideways glances toward one another, the meek and distant "where should I put these extra hangers?" didn't let up until the boss took his threatened and unnecessary and seriously unamusing bullshit out the fucking door.
I would like to go to our manager and say something about how uncomfortable he is making us with his remarks, but if I do it will completely justify his hatred for feminism -- I will embody the whiny little girl who likes to get men fired for harassment because he does not advocate feminism the way I do. I will prove his point. It won't matter that NO ONE thought he was funny, it will matter that I turned my supposed sniveling feminism-induced hatred for him into a pink slip. It won't be his fault because he is a big boy and he can handle political differences without antagonizing me every chance he gets, it will be my fault because I supposedly instigated this by reading my feminist book, which in and of itself seems to equate to spreading anti-male Nazi-esque propaganda and warrants all the loud condescending shit he gave me all fucking day,
I am seriously considering printing out some of this and giving it to my manager. This shit better not continue. This guy is our boss, our leader; he is supposed to be our inspiration and our guide. He is neither and needs to grow the fuck up.
*
update:
I talked to my manager and he said talk to my boss and I'm sort of not very excited to do that. What my boss was doing doesn't fit the description of harassment, but because it was of a political nature and because it upset me so much, my feelings of "whoa wait a minute" are "valid" and it does deserve me talking to the boss, demanding he calm down, and taking further action if he doesn't comply.
I guess this is nice.
It would be nicer if I had the spine to talk to my boss.