"I'd have taken you over every single other player on the team. However, it would have been kind of embarrassing when you showed up and were better than the three guys we'd never met. For them. Nor for me."
This text from a (male) friend playing on a (all-male) Ultimate Frisbee intramurals team bothered me for a while. I'd told him, half-jokingly, that if my university's intramural policies weren't so blatantly sexist, I could have been the seventh player on their team. I got this response. Then, as I cogitated (I love that word), I understood the sudden rush of table-flipping frustration. Here's why.
Men, typically, would not be ashamed to admit that perhaps their female friends cook better frittatas than they do (I choose this example knowing full well I have a male friend who makes a badass frittata, whilst I've never dared to make one at all). I've yet to come across a man who will slink into a corner and sulk over the fact that a woman can sew stitches around him (I can fix buttons, no more), or dance better, or clean a house better.
But God forbid a woman be a better athlete.
Does it matter that I've played Ultimate Frisbee competitively for four years and worked in godawful Texas heat to have excellent throws and catches, or that I've been a distance runner since middle school? No. If I arrive at those fields and show up men who aren't runners or haven't played Ultimate in more than a recreational capacity, I embarrass them by virtue of 1) being more skilled at a sport and 2) doing so while not in possession of a Y chromosome. I'd never get this kind of text message if this were a competition for, say, baking.
Can we agree that this is a special level of stupidity? People have strengths and weaknesses, because they're people. Not necessarily because they're men and women in completely separate and graded categories. Are men better at some sports because they're often physically stronger? Sure. The key word is "often" - not "always". We need to get past this often assumed and culturally ingrained idea that men ought to be better than women at specific things simply because they are men. It harms everyone.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
Friday, July 12, 2013
Some (incomplete) musings on brokenness and wholeness
(I started writing this in Greek class this morning, after discovering today's post by Elizabeth Esther, which left me realizing I'm not alone)
I don't know how to reconcile the ideas of human brokenness and wholeness (or progression towards it through sanctification). I grew up with the total depravity of Calvinism. Here's the thing: "total depravity" at its core does not mean man is rotten through and through, completely bereft of goodness. It means, to the best of my understanding, that every part of man is flawed in some way. Heart, mind, soul, strength - none are perfect. All are deficient.
I did not know until this year that this was the intended meaning of total depravity. My understanding for the past two decades has been a conception of man as but a worm, groveling in the dust, even after accepting salvation. I identify with Luther's self-flagellation (though mentally, not physically), his mortal fear of never being good enough for salvation, or for anything else.
This is where I become uncertain. Operating solely according to either brokenness or wholeness seems incomplete. The first leads to doubt, self-hatred, self-depreciation, which ultimately is a devaluation of God's creation. The second, without the checks of the first, could lead to pride, that creeping and subtle sin - the first sin, if Milton is to be believed. We cannot grind ourselves into the dirt and expect to function, but neither can we raise ourselves above others. We can be whole because we were broken, and God in his mercy is restoring his image in us. He heals us and helps us and loves us. We recognize the grace of God in this dichotomy. Or I do, at least. I do not claim to speak for anyone else, or to have these answers.
This love and grace is from whom and what we derive identity and life. We are loved by the eternal, transcendent maker of the universe, who has no ulterior motive or need of our praise. In what else could we find worth of any stability? He loves because he is love. If the perfect, sinless one loves us, and loved us while we were wholly unworthy, dying for us while we were yet sinners, we can love ourselves. We should love ourselves. We delight in beauty, in music, in nature -- and we too are creations with beauty and worth because of our maker. We love God's image as expressed through our unique makes and personalities.
We celebrate his creation and creativity and goodness within us. For what God creates is good; it cannot be otherwise.
So, in a fashion, it does not matter what others think of us. Those feelings and opinions change like the wind. We know, we children of God, how our Father feels about us and how he knows us to be.
We are broken, but we are being healed.
I don't know how to reconcile the ideas of human brokenness and wholeness (or progression towards it through sanctification). I grew up with the total depravity of Calvinism. Here's the thing: "total depravity" at its core does not mean man is rotten through and through, completely bereft of goodness. It means, to the best of my understanding, that every part of man is flawed in some way. Heart, mind, soul, strength - none are perfect. All are deficient.
I did not know until this year that this was the intended meaning of total depravity. My understanding for the past two decades has been a conception of man as but a worm, groveling in the dust, even after accepting salvation. I identify with Luther's self-flagellation (though mentally, not physically), his mortal fear of never being good enough for salvation, or for anything else.
This is where I become uncertain. Operating solely according to either brokenness or wholeness seems incomplete. The first leads to doubt, self-hatred, self-depreciation, which ultimately is a devaluation of God's creation. The second, without the checks of the first, could lead to pride, that creeping and subtle sin - the first sin, if Milton is to be believed. We cannot grind ourselves into the dirt and expect to function, but neither can we raise ourselves above others. We can be whole because we were broken, and God in his mercy is restoring his image in us. He heals us and helps us and loves us. We recognize the grace of God in this dichotomy. Or I do, at least. I do not claim to speak for anyone else, or to have these answers.
This love and grace is from whom and what we derive identity and life. We are loved by the eternal, transcendent maker of the universe, who has no ulterior motive or need of our praise. In what else could we find worth of any stability? He loves because he is love. If the perfect, sinless one loves us, and loved us while we were wholly unworthy, dying for us while we were yet sinners, we can love ourselves. We should love ourselves. We delight in beauty, in music, in nature -- and we too are creations with beauty and worth because of our maker. We love God's image as expressed through our unique makes and personalities.
We celebrate his creation and creativity and goodness within us. For what God creates is good; it cannot be otherwise.
So, in a fashion, it does not matter what others think of us. Those feelings and opinions change like the wind. We know, we children of God, how our Father feels about us and how he knows us to be.
We are broken, but we are being healed.
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