Edited by Sanjana Hira
Recently, something quite mundane happened in my life. I was in a meeting with some people discussing something. I had raised my hand to speak and after I had said my piece, the baton was passed to this person, let’s call him person X. X repeated exactly what I said in different words and received signs of approval.
I had to switch off my camera to roll my eyes.
Why is it that when cis-gendered men speak up, the threshold of expectation is so low for them that the slightest contribution is met with thunderous applause? I am reminded of a quote I heard somewhere – “Men can afford to be lazy, women can’t.” Never has that saying been truer, as I reflect on my time at Ashoka. I was in a lecture room and questioning a certain Professor’s belief when I was cut off in the middle so that he could push back against my question. I instinctively replied “I’m not done” and he smiled and let me continue. I felt I had reclaimed some of my space only to notice how this same situation happened repeatedly outside the Academic Blocks of Ashoka as well.
It was like I had been viewing the world with rose-coloured glasses and now the visors were off. I noticed this condescension and entitlement in almost every conversation. Retrospectively, it reminds me of COVID-19. One fine day no one is talking about it and the next day, it’s suddenly an international crisis. Even the virus had been present for a long time and no one quite noticed until no one could stop noticing. The harsh reality with these microaggressions is, once you start noticing them in meetings and classrooms, you can’t stop. You notice it on international stages, in private conversations with your cis male friends, in your family with your brother and father until, eventually, you get used to it, very much like the virus.
The comparison doesn’t stop there. Every once in a while, when I go out for a grocery run, I end up panicking for the next 14 days, terrified that I might have contracted the virus. My unsurety there is similar to my hesitation is pegging microaggressions. Every more than once in a while, when a cis man explains my own idea back to me, I am unsure. Was that mansplaining? Is that me just overthinking it? Should I not explain any ideas I have anymore?
Unfortunately, I’m not the only one facing these issues. The problem is so widespread – in workplaces, in schools and colleges, in homes, in politics, in almost any arena of human interaction you can think of. So, how do we solve this? Quarantining ourselves was a solution a friend of mine suggested, another said we fight back. A third said we should just accept it until we’re at a position to make a difference.
And that’s where my list of friends comes to an end.
But the natural flow of this article will expect an answer to be presented for the problem I have mentioned above. Some 22-step guide to end the patriarchy. But unfortunately, there isn’t one. Instead, all I can do is tell you what my response in these situations is, and implore you to be cognisant of when microaggressions take place around you; whether it’s cutting you off, mansplaining, not giving you enough weightage, nagging you, benevolent sexism, or any behaviour that makes you question the so-called equality people believe we have achieved in the 21st century.
What recourse is there? If you are comfortable in that environment, call them out. When a friend texts you after a meeting asking if they were crazy or if X had cut them off, tell them you see them and what X did is not okay. If your family member asks your mother what’s for dinner when your father is right there too, ask your father to answer the question for once. Maybe there is no path to end these microaggressions, but I have gotten better at noticing them around me. What does this do? It makes me angry and it makes me angry enough to perhaps one day write a 22-step guide. (watch out for my next Her Campus Article!)