I'm Still Angry, and I Think That's Good
I just got back from an entertaining evening out with my husband and some of his coworkers.
My husband works for a relatively small creative company where nearly all the employees are youngish handsome white guys. The two women who work there are the receptionist and the project manager. Needless to say there's some sexism a-brewing.
One of the coworkers is chronic verbal offender, always saying really insulting and condescending stuff about "the wifes" (referring to all company's men's wifes) in front of me. Regular readers of this blog can imagine how well that goes over and what delightful conservations follow...
Well tonight, on the the drive home I was complaining about some obnoxious comment made by the Chronic Offender and my husband asked me how he could make me feel better. I think the answer is unfortunately there's no remedy for my fury. This guy isn't changing - and he represents thousands/millions of others with the same crude mentality. And that if I ever decided not to let his words and actions bother me anymore I would be marginalizing myself and therefore passively supporting his actions. So it appears I'm condemned to a life of perpetual infuriation.
I can only hope that every time I say something to him or anyone else in an effort to not let stupidity slip by, be it religious or sexist, that it may chisel away a little piece from the block of density so many live in.
I also hope that this base level of angst I'm growing accustom to helps me be more conscious of my privileges and not become someone else's Chronic Offender.
My husband works for a relatively small creative company where nearly all the employees are youngish handsome white guys. The two women who work there are the receptionist and the project manager. Needless to say there's some sexism a-brewing.
One of the coworkers is chronic verbal offender, always saying really insulting and condescending stuff about "the wifes" (referring to all company's men's wifes) in front of me. Regular readers of this blog can imagine how well that goes over and what delightful conservations follow...
Well tonight, on the the drive home I was complaining about some obnoxious comment made by the Chronic Offender and my husband asked me how he could make me feel better. I think the answer is unfortunately there's no remedy for my fury. This guy isn't changing - and he represents thousands/millions of others with the same crude mentality. And that if I ever decided not to let his words and actions bother me anymore I would be marginalizing myself and therefore passively supporting his actions. So it appears I'm condemned to a life of perpetual infuriation.
I can only hope that every time I say something to him or anyone else in an effort to not let stupidity slip by, be it religious or sexist, that it may chisel away a little piece from the block of density so many live in.
I also hope that this base level of angst I'm growing accustom to helps me be more conscious of my privileges and not become someone else's Chronic Offender.
posted by Zeolite at 12:02 AM
2 Comments:
I can see you're too mad to talk to, but I tribute your husband with a cookie for coming up with such a good response. I wish I could find words and make them into sentences when my wife is spinning out of control. For some reason, "Un-hunh", "Me too", and "I feel the same way about it" just aren't getting it done.
Here's to ya! Crunch. Munch, crunch.
My husband deserves a whole bakery full of delectable treats!
So often I have an intense emotional response to things that I think totally perplex him, especially with sexist things that he doesn't always perceive, and he just takes my word and believes me that the things I'm perceiving are real and valid and I'm not some crazy person.
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