Although the historians' universe remains largely male, in over 20 years of professional life, I've never actually experienced any direct discrimination and very little overt or intentional harassment. Historians are, on the whole, fairly decent folks. Not the best dressers, mind you, and hopeless at parties, but well-intentioned all the same. No, I have no complaints to make, no grievances to file against any individuals or offices. My frustrations focus rather on the systemic maleness of academia, the way the molds all seem to be designed for male bodies, attitudes, and ambitions.
Whenever my frustrations begin to boil over, I turn to the words of wisdom uttered by my niece Hannah in McDonald's when she was about four--
We were in McDonald's on my lunch break. During the summers throughout college and graduate school when I worked as a teller in my local community bank, my sister-in-law Nancy and her kids would often meet me for lunch. On this particular day, we were talking about how great the kids were doing in their music lessons. Pointing a French fry at each kid, Nancy said, "Alex, you can be a cellist in a symphony some day. Anne, you can be a violinist. And Hannah, you can be a concert pianist." At that point, Hannah, a deceptively sylph-like little blonde, gasped in horror, scrambled up so that she was standing on top of her plastic chair, and bellowed, "BUT I DON'T WANT TO BE A PENIS!"
Precisely.
I lurve this story! I don't want to be a penis, either, but it seems that teachers everywhere are expected to at least *have* male genitalia. Or a wife at home.
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