Monday, November 18, 2013

Wonder Women

*This may rapidly devolve into a rant. Fair warning.

I am a hiker. I am a skier, and a caver, and every so often a mountain climber. I am happiest when I am sweaty, filthy, and in some kind of danger. I am happiest when I am pushing my own personal limits.And, yeah, I'm a girl.

I rarely thought about gender differences as a kid. My brother and I played with each other's boy or girl-oriented toys equally, and my parents didn't try to change that.

My dad took me fishing, taught me to ride horses, and dragged me into skiing. As my original adventure buddy, he challenged me to ski races down the mountain at breakneck speed. He always encouraged me to get out and do what I wanted, and never once told me that my interests were unusual for a girl.

In short, I wasn't praised for being a girl who enjoyed boyish activities. I was just one of his kids who happened to enjoy the same things he did. I was confused when I was called a tomboy at school--I didn't think I was acting like a boy. I was just being myself.

I bring this up because of several recent reminders. First, attending the Banff Mountain Film Festival (www.banffcentre.ca). Second, reading a book by Verna van Schaik, who holds the record for deepest dive by a woman.

Banff is fantastic, and I love going each year and getting inspired by the adventurers on screen--real people doing unreal things.

 I am less inspired by the lack of women. Even this year, the only documentary with women even featured in it was a film completely focused on the idea that lady climbers are doing things that are unusual for women.

Banff was in the back of my mind even as I read Schaik's book, available for purchase on Kindle, called Fatally Flawed: The Quest to be Deepest. Anyone who believes that gender bias no longer exists should read her account of setting a world record. Her writing isn't perfect, but it is honest.

Schaik writes, "I spent years trying to imitate [men], to be become a man and so be accepted. I gave up my personal strengths so that I could cultivate the strengths that the men around me needed to see. . . What I have come to realize is that I am not a man." (166)

Her message resonates with me in a way I did not expect. Even though I consider myself an advocate of equality, I am always trying to prove I can be just as good, that I am not slowed down by being a woman. Any reminder of my differences, like trying to hike fast even with agonizing cramps, pisses me off.

It would do me good to remember that I am not unusual. I am not looking for attention from guys. I am not a tomboy. I do not pursue male-dominated activities; I pursue my activities.

Anyone who believes social equality has been achieved should also hang out with some teen girls.

It is painful for me to see girls like those in the cave club curse their own bodies for not being thin enough. They hate themselves for not living up to some bullshit ideal of what fit, adventurous young women ought to look like. It is painful to realize that I have the same insecurities.

I am grateful to have met these girls and shared these experiences. I felt the euphoria after making it through a tight passage called the Seizure Squeeze. We dared to free climb down passages that grown men would not attempt.  For hours on end, we examined poop in close detail.

In short, it is completely unsexy--awesomely so.
Giving birth to herself.
We aren't trying to be anything. This is what we are.