"Girl" talk revisited

I’ve been thinking lately about the language used to refer to women, including young women (which used to include me) and old women (among whom I now number myself). Of course, there’s a back story to this train of thought ...

Sometimes I'm sort of stunned by how much the women’s movement of the 1960s and 70s actually succeeded in changing the world. Think about how many more women have visible positions  in the world now compared with 40 or 50 years ago. Think about how girls these days can actually envision having a career—not a job on the side until they get a “Mrs.” degree, but an occupation that they choose and cherish. Think about the opportunities for girls and women in sports compared to 50 years ago when women’s intercollegiate sports (for instance) were unheard of. And think about how many men are actually involved in their children’s lives now—the flip side of feminism: it freed men, too.

Still, over time, we also lost some gains that I believe were really important. Remember gender-free toys? Remember the idea that giving girls only dolls and boys only guns taught children what their roles “should” be—and shaped the world in the process. For a few brief, glorious years, “Free To Be You and Me” was the law of the land. Stores weren't separated into pink and blue sections. You could actually get toys that weren't designated as being for boys or for girls. That’s gone. If you haven’t noticed this, check out the toy department in any mainstream store.

Also lost, I fear, at least in some quarters, is our early progress in getting folks to think of adult females as women instead of as girls. To call us “girls” is infantilizing and demeaning, we argued. It trivializes women and their lives. It precludes any sort of genuine equality, we pointed out, because equality is impossible when one person is regarded as a child (girl) and the other as an adult (man). We invoked parallels: who would consider calling an adult male a “boy” (except in the most egregious of racial slurs)? 

The point was so important! The trivialization of women in language reflected—and it also reinforced—the trivialization of women in the world. About this, we were certain. And plenty of research backed us up.

Persuading folks—women and men—that this was a problem was no easy task. But for a while, it seemed like we had won our point. By the 1980s and 90s, people with any sort of consciousness were careful to say “women.” Pretty soon, organizations, agencies, business, clubs, commercial enterprises, even the media conscientiously used “women” to refer to females over about 18 and “girls” to refer only to small children. (Adolescents were always tricky. Are they still “girls,” or are they “young women”? I always preferred the latter.)

That victory was 30 years ago or so. So I find myself distraught and dismayed to hear that “girl” has made a come-back among college students. These 18 – 22-year-old women are the age many of us were when we discovered feminism, with all its freeing and infuriating power. They are the age many of us were when we started to contemplate this language thing. Yet, these women are not only called “girls” by others—like their male peers—but they also refer to themselves as “girls.” Sure, much of the institutionalized (“politically correct”) language is still in place. Sports teams are women’s teams, not girls’ teams. But these young women will be the institutions in a decade or so. Will they continue to call themselves and their peers “girls.” What effect might that have on their workplaces? On their families? On their voice in governance? On the world?

As if this weren’t enough, I also realize that now, as an old woman, I am again personally confronted with trivializing, infantilizing language. Now it comes in the form of people I do not know and with whom I am not even slightly close addressing me as “honey,” “sweetie,” “my dear.” I’m pretty sure this language is meant to be kind, even to be a compliment. Like before, folks’ conscious intent is not to be rude but to be nice, to make me feel good—tell me I’m young rather than old, appreciated rather than dismissed.

Then why is it so irritating? Why do I feel simultaneously invisibilized and patronized? Why does it feel like a pat on the head … or on the wrinkled hand?

The analytic answer is something like this: These words are terms of endearment, which means their use is limited to certain situations. Other than intimate partners, these terms are used only toward a couple of limited classes of people: children (“Not now, Sweetie. Mommy’s busy”) and old people (“Here’s your receipt, sweetie. Drive carefully now”). Just like with the word “girl” used to refer to women, the message is that old women can be viewed as children, we are legitimate objects of condescension. Once again, we are asked to revert to immaturity, neediness, submissiveness, silence, invisibility. Maybe this is overstated, but that’s how it feels.

My partner does a lot of diversity training, and she talks about the difference between intent and impact. These people mean well, their intent is golden. But the impact is downright ... um ... unpleasant.

We need a new consciousness-raising movement. We need to educate folks about the discomfort they cause when they patronize us, treat us as children in need of a pat on the head—or hand. We’ve talked about making up cards to hand out when this happens. Here are some possibilities, in order of increasing crabbiness:

I’m sure you mean to be friendly when you address me as _________. But please be aware that it doesn’t feel good on the receiving end. It feels like you are treating me as a child. I have a lifetime of experience; I am not a child. I would be grateful if you would keep this in mind.

OR …

Please don’t use terms like ___________ when you address older people. You may mean well, but it’s actually condescending and hurtful. Please address us as you address other adults.

OR …

You just insulted a cranky old feminist. Who do you think I am—your child? I’m not! So please do not address me as __________________. Thank you.

So, say we’re successful in this campaign to get people to take us seriously. What do you suppose today’s college women will do with the change when they get old? Maybe they’d surprise us. I’m guessing that old women can get downright uppity, whatever their generation.