If you somehow dodged the abundance of articles, Tweets, Tiktoks, and Instagram posts, last week a group of Reddit users made headlines for manipulating the Wall Street stock exchange. The users of the Reddit thread “WallStreetBets” worked together to purchase an insane amount of GameStop stock hoping to send an anti-establishment message to the daily goers of Wall Street. The group invested in GameStop, as the stock had been shorted by multi-billion-dollar hedge funds. Shorting a stock happens when a hedge fund believes that a company is losing its value and, as a result, the price of the stock will drop. The hedge fund will borrow the stock and sell them to others. The idea is that the stock price will fall as the company devalues, and the hedge fund will buy back the shares sold at the discounted price. So, when you return the shares to the seller, you profit off of the difference. However, if your predictions about the company are wrong, and for some reason, the stock price increases, those shorting the stock will lose money because they will have to buy back the previously sold shares at a higher price. Thus, when the large community behind “WallStreetBets” put their efforts towards GameStop, they caused the stock price to rise and anyone who shorted it was unsuccessful in their hopes to profit.
The lack of female confidence on the subject of finance is extremely prominent to anyone active on social media. When logging onto Twitter or TikTok during the peak of the GameStop situation last week, I was met with a wave of posts that portray the satirical message of female inadequacy regarding finance and the stock market. The posts were either girls complaining about how they didn’t understand the situation after having their boyfriends’, brothers’, or other male figures in their life explain it to them multiple times. Similarly, I saw men posting videos and Tweets of them explaining GameStop ‘in terms girls would understand’, or in extremely simplified analogies, like how monkeys trade bananas. Though it can be appreciated that creators are turning to social media to understand the world of finance, and male creators are taking the time to explain it at what they consider a relatable level, it highlights a larger issue.
Women embody a sense of imposter syndrome that is rarely instilled in men. Meaning, despite how well-versed we can be on a subject when we’re asked to articulate our understanding, we look to our male counterparts to make sure that we have our facts straight.
Having gone to an all-girls high school, speaking out in class was never a daunting task and was always encouraged. When transitioning to university, my biggest culture shock was sharing the classroom with the opposite sex. Although my male classmates rarely belittle my intelligence, my deterrence to speak in front of my peers has never subsided.
In the face of this insecurity, I find myself frustrated by my cowardness, having always expected more from myself. I do my readings, I research my topics and I know what I’m talking about, but I am always going to consider men to know more. Intrinsically, my knowledge and understanding are valuable. But comparatively, I will never possess the confidence my male classmates have.
The road to the recovery of the sexes begins with re-writing the narrative on confidence and expectations. As women, we are not expected to be eager or confident in subjects that are not within our assumed expertise. If I discuss the latest TikTok drama or fashion trends, my knowledge is not questioned. But, if I was asked to discuss politics or the anticipated outcome of the Superbowl, the odds are against me. Regardless of what I say or how I convey my message, there will always be a grain of reluctance from the audience in perceiving my perspective as the truth. Launching myself, and women alike, into an underlying sense of self-doubt.
To vocalize our opinions, which is expected in our generation’s wave of feminism, we must be wholly confident in the message we are looking to convey. To speak on a subject is accompanied by the unintentional invitation to be criticized. Although criticism is necessary, it is displaced on women. Our opinions are more likely to be undercut when made public, while our counterparts are able to proceed with ample confidence and a fraction of the facts. This is not to say that a woman is more likely to be knowledgeable on a subject than a man but, it is much easier for them to lean on a sense of confidence than a foundation of knowledge.
This perspective is not new nor radical. As women, we live with it, we grapple with it and we often accept it. However, approaching the next chapter of my life, as a professional and an adult who needs to advocate for herself, I can no longer accept the narrative as unchanging. We pay the same tuition, we read the same books and we follow the same stock market.
