Trying not to BNeg » women

The Men Were Surprised We Were Women

admin — Tue, 10 Aug 2010 16:34:58 +0000

This summer a small group of Cub Scouts from my Pack went away to sleepover camp. Four moms joined me as adult leaders. It never occurred to me that a group of women would be noticed, never mind create a stir.

One night we had to prepare our own fire then make “foil dinners”. You take meat and vegetables and wrap them in foil then throw them in coals from a fire. We had apples with sugar and cinnamon to cook for desert. I pride myself on building fires so I had the boys fixing and lighting it in no time. We ate our dinner and dessert then started on our own supplies to make smores. Our camp guide, a 17-year-old Boy Scout named Earl, came to our site to hang out then went to the adjacent site to offer his help since they were still cooking. They replied “Oh no, we don’t need any help, but there are women down there who might.” Earl ran down the hill laughing to tell us.

We all couldn’t believe the men thought we needed help because we were women. We joined in his laughter especially since they seemed unprepared for this task.

Earlier in the week, the district executive invited all the leaders from six scout camps to a special steak and potato dinner at the main post. When I looked around the 200 or so leaders, I could only spot one other woman. Later during a firework display, a male leader asked how we convinced moms to be involved. None of their moms wanted anything to do with cub scouts. I explained we always had a balance of moms and dads and I worked to recruit all the parents. I thought it was a shame that none of the women would step forward for him. We obviously stuck out among the 800 people in attendance.

The next day the all-male leaders who shared our dinner table asked how my day was going as we floated down a stream together. I was having a great day after shooting 2 bullseyes at the archery range then catching a fish, so I told them. That evening a dad from our Pack arrived to stay for a few days. When our dad joined the table at dinner, they were immediately jolly, slapping him on the back and commenting that they wondered if we had any men in our Pack. Truthfully, I hadn’t been eating meals with them all week wondering if they had any women in their Pack. From our earlier conversation that day, they must have been able to tell I knew what I was doing.

Being a young girl in the 70’s, I always thought I was equal. In my mind I have never questioned it. I know women still don’t get paid at the same rate as men for the same job, but I always consider myself equal in my day-to-day life. I wouldn’t allow it to be any other way.

My cub scouts had a great week. The boys were Pack of the Day and received quality unit and adventure awards for extra accomplishments. We were top notch under our leadership which just happened to be female. The reactions seem ridiculous to me, but I know our boys won’t have them. Their moms rocked the outdoors. They’re not having an education in sexism. They’re being shown women can do everything.

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Why Being A Cosmo Reader Is Good For Society

Cynthia Cotte Griffiths — Sun, 01 Feb 2009 04:30:00 +0000

Is it such a bad thing to be a Cosmo Girl? Should I be embarrassed to celebrate my 45th birthday this week and “fan” Cosmopolitan on Facebook? Ever since I was in college, going to the beach or the pool always meant a Cosmo magazine in my bag.

If you threw up in first grade, you could still be “the kid who threw up” in college, so I’ve been thinking about my image with every word I type.

I’m not into the fashion and beauty products. You don’t need to tell me that color-coding your files will not get you a raise in the workplace. That’s not why I read Cosmo. The tag is “Fun Fearless Female”. Usually one of the headlines catches my eye and more often than not it contains the word “sex”. We all have the same questions and concerns about this subject but very rarely trust a friend to discuss them.

When I worked for the Chancellor of New York University, I stumbled upon the section of the library for PhD students studying Human Sexuality. I read every book on the shelves. Perhaps I would have earned a graduate degree if I had abandoned the school of public administration for this concentration. I couldn’t believe people were earning doctorates in the subject.

A few years later, when my husband, then boyfriend, was in graduate school, Dr. Ruth came to speak at the University of Maryland. He managed to get me a ticket. I remember being so glad that all the students were respectable and earnest with their questions.

So yes, I’m a Cosmo Girl, except now I’m probably a Cosmo Woman. I can’t help but notice how the magazine is geared to young readers. All the uncertainty of dating and relationships makes me glad to be older. However, I still get the same sense of satisfaction that someone is answering women’s questions about the subject and suggesting ways for improvement. There’s nothing wrong with mixing it up and experimenting. Self-improvement should always include everything that you do.

Often I think I should be more respectable. Since I care about my personal brand, should I have admitted my secret magazine reading? Worst yet, should I be writing this explanation?

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with wholesome sex between consenting adults. It’s a natural part of life.

I’ve always believed that as a society we are completely contorted about sex. Sexual abuse and sex crimes statistics are always sickening. 1 out of every 6 women in the United States have been the victim of an attempted or completed rape. At least 20% of runaway teen girls were sexually abused. I think we have made progress in taking abuse seriously and prosecuting it as a crime, but its implications are still far reaching, especially concerning depression and substance abuse.

Although I want to have that perfect image, I’d never do it by hiding who I am. What’s attractive about Cosmo goes beyond any of my personal preferences. Those pages allow women to be women and discover what that entails. The articles provide a benchmark for a healthy way of approaching this part of life and send a message that women shouldn’t accept anything less. The more we as a society make strides to be open about sex, the more we will feel comfortable condemning the mangled, disgusting incidences of its abuse.

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One Small Way

Cynthia Cotte Griffiths — Sat, 15 Mar 2008 16:50:00 +0000

Last year, my friend Christine gave me a book, Through the Eye of the Storm by Cholene Espinoza. She buys them by the case and gives them away because all the proceeds go to building a community education center to serve the Katrina survivors in Mississippi. The book is written by a phenomenal pilot who witnessed the devastation from the hurricane and was moved to action to help rebuild a community. Along the way she makes many discoveries about herself. The faith and strength of this book continues with me each day. Quite frankly, I’m in awe of these women. Amidst the overwhelming feeling of despair we all feel about Katrina, they are making a difference in one community.

Last year at my Episcopal church, I was talking in my usual way. I found myself suggesting that it would be great to have a coffee house. We should fling wide the doors of our parish and invite the community to perform. We had never had a coffee house at the church nor had I ever organized one, but I love music and thought that everyone would have a good time.

Ideas flew around and we decided to collect donations for Richmond, South Africa, a community living in poverty. Three women from our parish who work in medical fields were going to travel to meet this community and hear their needs. All the better if my fun little coffee house can help someone. We wound up raising $1,800 and collecting a few hundred dollars worth of items that the women would take on the plane with them to make sure they were not stolen during delivery, which happens. The idea was to have a fund so that when they came back with a clear understanding of what they needed, we could help.

In life, I’m just the inspiration and the organizer. I do events in my sleep. I haven’t spoken to the women since they returned two weeks ago. Last week one gave me a small African instrument because of the coffee house, but that has been the extent of my contact.

Some of the items we collected were for a sewing business. We gave them supplies so that they could sew and sell. Many international programs have been established to help people move toward self sufficiency in developing nations.

At their presentation this week, I was listening to the stories about the people, the conditions, and the facilities. The sewing shop was not great and had substandard machines, but the women were dedicated and trying to earn a living. They need three sewing machines and a press. The women from my church told them to buy them.

They made this announcement in the middle of the presentation, amid pictures that showed smiling women displaying their work, a report that they don’t have a bathroom, and the fact that the shop is next to a very busy liqueur store.

They are going to use the money to buy sewing machines. I was overwhelmed to know that far away in the desert in South Africa women are going to be able to sew to earn a livelihood with machines bought with the money from my coffee house idea. It was a powerful moment. In a tiny, tiny way I understand how Cholene Espinoza feels reaching out to help. The world is filled with problems and it’s not much help, but we will make a difference to these women and their families.

What should they sew that will sell here in the United States? They make pillows and placemats. Someone suggested baby bibs. What ideas do you have?

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Did She Just Threaten Me?

Cynthia Cotte Griffiths — Fri, 07 Mar 2008 17:26:00 +0000

This morning I was waiting for our PTA President to finish talking with the mother who is chairing a school activity. I would step outside then back in again while waiting to wave to my son’s class before school started. So I overheard parts of the conversation and was REALLY glad I wasn’t having it!

The PTA President is a warm and caring woman who I consider a friend. She grew up in Puerto Rico and reminds me of a girl from my childhood. When I was in grammar school Addie would exert a great deal of time trying to get me to look better. She was very open and honest and pulled you right in. By the way, it never worked. I was hopeless and just didn’t care about what I looked like.

So here is our volunteer President who is a very special, caring person and she’s being told in a forceful voice that if this Chair doesn’t get exactly what she wants, somebody else can chair the event next time.

I was reminded of the kids yelling at each other “If you don’t do it, I won’t be your friend anymore!” We try to teach the kids that they shouldn’t threaten this and now a parent is doing it!

We all get caught up in our projects and work. Her overreaction indicates just how dedicated she is to this project. The President continued to talk to her and explain and look for a way to make the situation better. We all know I admire talking to stop negativity.

After the Chair left, the President wanted to know if the proper word was “threaten”. Was that a threat? Yes it was! This issue is far from over and no doubt will take up some official meeting time.

As a volunteer, you don’t need people threatening you. You need team players with positive attitudes. It’s this type of situation that gives PTAs a bad reputation! Please take a step back before lashing out at a fellow volunteer.

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Ignoring the Creeps

Cynthia Cotte Griffiths — Wed, 10 Oct 2007 04:02:00 +0000

Truthfully, it’s been a bad couple of weeks for me as a woman in my little town. First I met an old man who was a photographer and he kept letting his camera hit me inappropriately and apologizing with that look on his face. Second, I was out to see my friends’ band and this guy sat between me and the band and kept turning around and outright staring at me. Then he took the empty seat next to me and kept “accidentially” hitting me with his leg about 15 times. Oh! “by accident”. Right.

In one of my nonprofit jobs, I would buy townhouses for rental to lower-income families. Just before closing on a purchase, I had to confirm that all the final punch-out items had been completed by the builder. During the course of a few years, I visited 20 construction sites, dressed nicely for my office job. Although most of the men were professional, there were some who were not, and those smiles and comments and little quips always followed. The thing about it is that you never know what you are going to encounter.

I never get angry or say anything to these men. I grew up in a real working class area where you would be severly ridiculed if you complained and did not “play along”. For the most part it doesn’t bother me. In a way it is a compliment that the man finds me attractive although he lacks the social graces to keep it to himself. I certainly don’t welcome it. I feel that the look I give the man and returning to the business at hand in a no nonsense way, brushes the whole incident aside.

I always wonder if I should be confrontational and angry and tell these men that it is not appropriate for them to make these little comments with that look on their face. I can’t imagine being a man and acting the way they do.

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Did You Just Call Me a Girl?

Cynthia Cotte Griffiths — Sat, 25 Aug 2007 17:45:00 +0000

A few weeks ago, the “kindergarten dads” came over for a sampling of beverages. I didn’t know either of them well, but had spoken with them during the school year.For some reason during the conversation, I mentioned that I was a tomboy. In unison they said, “No way!” “Yes!” I replied and then I started down a long, spur-of-the-moment list about how I always was a tomboy. They looked at me in silent disbelief for a long time, then one said, “Well, you bat for the other team now.”

I couldn’t believe it. Did he just call me a girl?For two weeks I was really bothered at being called a girl, then it started to bother me that I didn’t want to be a girl. What frustrates me about being a girl anyway?

When my mother first explained what would happen when I was a women, I told her “No.” Then she had to explain to me that I wasn’t getting a choice. Maybe that’s it, no choice. Looking back through history women definitely didn’t get a choice in life for marriage, education, or job. The word “choice” is intimately wrapped up in the abortion issue too.I do place an extremely high emphasis on being able to do what I want, but I don’t think it’s a lack of choice.

It’s more the thought of not keeping up with the guys. I just always considered myself equal with everyone. I could never let my brother do something without proving I could do it. “Oh, yeah! Well, I can drywall the basement too!” The problem is he can do everything and he’s my little brother. In college I was the first woman radio station manager, when the vast majority of the d.j.s were guys. The executive board was composed of all guys, except for my roomate. Our advisor was a sociology professor who said to me, “I can’t believe they let you be in charge; and I can’t believe you are in complete control.” I didn’t know I was doing anything unusual. I was just being me.

Maybe I think you can’t keep up with the guys if you’re being a “girly” girl. Ask my kids what I say when I go to the mall, they’ll tell you I chant “I hate the mall.” If I need to buy something, I go to a store that sells it and get out as fast as I can. Newspaper articles always state that this is the way men shop. Perhaps I’m missing some shopping gene. I know I prefer doing other things instead. Things that guys like to do.

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