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Nov. 10th, 2007 11:04 pmI'm female. I'm short. I'm kind of shy. I listen more than I talk. So I'm used to not taking up much space in a room, either physically or personality-wise.
I'm also used to being around a lot of men. I did my undergraduate degree in physics, and I was the first female to graduate from the program in years. There were no women on the faculty at the time. Post-graduation, I have worked in several traditionally male-dominated scientific fields. Last week, I spent several days on a work-related "retreat" where The Old Boys Network was very much in evidence.
None of this bothers me very much most of the time. When I have something to say, I make sure that my voice gets heard. And when I have something to say, it's generally something that's reasonably intelligent, so people around me do listen.
Today, however, I discovered what it's like to be invisible. My beloved Guelph Gryphons, fresh off an amazing semi-final win (down 24-0 by the middle of the second quarter, came back to win it 38-31) last week, were vying for the Yates Cup (Ontario championship) for only fourth time in their existence. Naturally, I wanted to watch the game live. Since I was away on the retreat for most of this week, I was unaware that tickets to the game were being sold ahead of time and, moreover, selling like hotcakes. By the time I went to buy one online yesterday, they were sold out. A kind soul on a Canadian football forum that I read answered my plea for a spare ticket, and so I drove to Guelph this morning to meet him and pick it up.
He had a second extra ticket that he was selling to an older man who works for the Queen's University team. I was chatting with the seller and his friend when Queen's-guy arrived to get his ticket--I'd seen his posts on the forum looking for a ticket, just as he had seen mine, and therefore immediately knew who he was. I turned to him to say hello and introduce myself, but he looked through me like I wasn't there and spoke only to the seller. They chatted about football matters for five or ten minutes while I listened, and Queen's-guy never once glanced at me or spoke in my general direction even though I was standing within two feet of him and was clearly a part of the group in conversation when he approached. Finally, just as we were breaking up to head to the game, Queen's-guy asked the seller, "Did that other lady get her ticket too?" (Hello! Standing right here!) Looking somewhat bemused, seller pointed at me and said, "Yeah. That's her." At which point Queen's-guy finally acknowledged my existence.
It was weird. And not a little creepy.
This is how feminism got started, right?
~*~
P.S. Guelph lost. To their most bitter enemy--the University of Western Ontario Mustangs--no less. ::weeps::
Ah well, the Gryphons are a young team, and no one ever expected them to do as well as they did this year, so it was a great ride. And the 'Stangs have a very good chance of getting mauled by the University of Manitoba Bisons in the national semi-finals next week. Go Bisons! :-D
I'm also used to being around a lot of men. I did my undergraduate degree in physics, and I was the first female to graduate from the program in years. There were no women on the faculty at the time. Post-graduation, I have worked in several traditionally male-dominated scientific fields. Last week, I spent several days on a work-related "retreat" where The Old Boys Network was very much in evidence.
None of this bothers me very much most of the time. When I have something to say, I make sure that my voice gets heard. And when I have something to say, it's generally something that's reasonably intelligent, so people around me do listen.
Today, however, I discovered what it's like to be invisible. My beloved Guelph Gryphons, fresh off an amazing semi-final win (down 24-0 by the middle of the second quarter, came back to win it 38-31) last week, were vying for the Yates Cup (Ontario championship) for only fourth time in their existence. Naturally, I wanted to watch the game live. Since I was away on the retreat for most of this week, I was unaware that tickets to the game were being sold ahead of time and, moreover, selling like hotcakes. By the time I went to buy one online yesterday, they were sold out. A kind soul on a Canadian football forum that I read answered my plea for a spare ticket, and so I drove to Guelph this morning to meet him and pick it up.
He had a second extra ticket that he was selling to an older man who works for the Queen's University team. I was chatting with the seller and his friend when Queen's-guy arrived to get his ticket--I'd seen his posts on the forum looking for a ticket, just as he had seen mine, and therefore immediately knew who he was. I turned to him to say hello and introduce myself, but he looked through me like I wasn't there and spoke only to the seller. They chatted about football matters for five or ten minutes while I listened, and Queen's-guy never once glanced at me or spoke in my general direction even though I was standing within two feet of him and was clearly a part of the group in conversation when he approached. Finally, just as we were breaking up to head to the game, Queen's-guy asked the seller, "Did that other lady get her ticket too?" (Hello! Standing right here!) Looking somewhat bemused, seller pointed at me and said, "Yeah. That's her." At which point Queen's-guy finally acknowledged my existence.
It was weird. And not a little creepy.
This is how feminism got started, right?
P.S. Guelph lost. To their most bitter enemy--the University of Western Ontario Mustangs--no less. ::weeps::
Ah well, the Gryphons are a young team, and no one ever expected them to do as well as they did this year, so it was a great ride. And the 'Stangs have a very good chance of getting mauled by the University of Manitoba Bisons in the national semi-finals next week. Go Bisons! :-D
