I Can't Believe You Just Said That - Part 2

A couple of months ago. I was driving through the country lanes to Tiverton Station. My younger daughter was travelling down from Durham, my son travelling up from Cornwall, and they were arriving at Tiverton within minutes of each other. I had left in plenty of time, as there are often tractors, or cows, or floods, or diversions due to roadworks on that particular route. On a particularly narrow stretch I met a large lorry, so I reversed back for a hundred yards or so to let him through. As I tucked myself close into the overgrown hedgerow there was a bang and a jolt. My front nearside wheel had fallen down into a hidden culvert, and was hanging in space, the car just resting on the front bumper. The car couldn't go forward because in falling into the culvert it had become jammed against the stony hedge; and because it was front wheel drive, it couldn't get enough purchase on the remaining working wheel to go back.

The lorry driver stopped and tried to push me out, but to no avail. Several people stopped to see if they could help, but muscle power just couldn't do it. Eventually, a man of about sixty-five offered to try pulling my car out backwards with his 4-wheel-drive. The lorry driver produced a rope, and lashed it to my car. And hey, presto, out of the ditch we came.

I thanked them both very much. The lorry driver, for whom I'd reversed, said he thought it was a nasty dangerous hole, obviously impossible to see because of the way the hedge had grown over it, and an accident waiting to happen. The 4WD driver smiled patronisingly at me, and as he climbed up into the driver's seat said, 'You women drivers.'

Offended? You bet I was. Challenge him? Erm... no. Partly because he'd disappeared before I'd picked my jaw up off the ground, and partly because I didn't actually know what to say. When I complained about it later to my children as we drove away from Tiverton Station, I had plenty to say about my perfectly adequate and very considerate driving, about how I never hesitate to reverse long distances on narrow winding roads, how I am happy to squeeze my car against the hedge to let someone else pass rather than being precious about my paintwork, how the only accident I've ever had was because some man was driving too fast. But I hadn't said anything to him.

Fast forward to last week. I'm in Sainsbury's. Going down the yoghurt and cheese aisle with my trolley, I move left to make way for an elderly man. He moves the same way, so we do a little 'trolley dance' to get past each other. I apologise for getting in his way. Does he apologise for getting in mine? No. He says (with a patronising smile) 'Women drivers!'

Was I annoyed? Of course. Did I challenge him? No. I gritted my teeth and aimed dangerous looks at his back. You won't be surprised to learn that it didn't have any effect.

So, what should I have done?

I came away from both encounters feeling that I had somehow fallen short of an ideal. Although these were petty incidents that did not harm me at all, I still felt that I should have done something: I should have challenged attitudes that show prejudice. These men were both exhibiting a world-view in which women are inferior - I should have challenged them. After all, as my husband said, when I told him about it, it seems trivial but if you don't challenge it the prejudice will just get passed onto the next generation. In his workplace, he sees a lot of sexism which is not confined to the older generation, sexism in people who might be the sons and grandsons of the two men I encountered.

However, if I'd challenged these men, what might have been the outcome?

I can imagine a few responses:

'It was only a joke, don't get your knickers in a twist.'
'Women - they make such a fuss about stupid things.
'These feminists - you help them out and then they turn on you!'
'Well, I wouldn't have ended up with my car in a ditch!'

I can just about imagine:

'Sorry, love.' (The 'love', or 'dear' would definitely be there, as a way of reinforcing perceived relative status.)

What I can't imagine is:

'I'm so sorry. From now on I will try to reconstruct my attitudes towards women so they are more acceptable now that we are in the 21st century.'

Thinking about this made me aware that it's very hard to stand up for one's own right not to be subject to this kind of undermining, prejudicial attitude. Trying to imagine possible responses made me realise that standing up against it from a position of (as perceived by the other party) social or intellectual or any other kind of weakness can actually reinforce the problem you're trying to address - Silly woman, making a fuss about nothing. Shakespeare didn't do women any favours by providing the incompetent arguee with a handy putdown in  'the lady doth protest too much'.

Now, I can't say that I personally have my life impinged upon by sexism to any great extent. I can ignore old blokes who know no better - they don't harm me in any way. But they are symptomatic of something that harms society. Although things are so much better than they were fifty years ago, sexism still rears its ugly head in so many places: in the workplace, in the justice system, in the tabloid press to mention. In our schools, there are still boys who demean girls, who talk about them as if they are objects. I know of girls whose lives have been made a misery by the sexist attitudes of boys in their school. And in many societies in the world, the legal and social status of women is still shockingly low.

So, I've prepared some responses. If it happens again, I shall say something like: 'Actually, statistically, women are much better drivers than men. But thanks anyway for pulling the car out of the ditch'. And  to the man in the supermarket: 'Yes, we're so much better, aren't we?'

Because, you know, it's all too easy for little boys like this
to grow up into the men we've got to share society with...

Or, perhaps, straight to the point:  'That's a very sexist attitude you're suffering from. I do hope you recover soon.'

I hope they do.