The Accidental Activist - Ladies Special

By Venita Coelho


It was an India wide Mahaquizzer contest. When the results were announced I was 
told 
that I had come first in the 'Ladies Section'. Somewhat mystified, I asked why 
there 
was such a section to begin with. What did your sex have to do with your 
ability to 
answer quiz questions? 'We like to encourage ladies' said the organizer. At 
which 
point I enquired icily 'Why? Are we handicapped? Brains too small?' I turned 
the 
prize down.

A week later I found myself in Singapore fending off a make up artist who was 
trying 
to glue tarantula size false eyelashes on me. I was in august company - there 
was 
Shobha De, the author, Loveleen Tandan who has just won an Oscar for Slum Dog 
millionaire, and debutant writer, Anita Jain. We were part of a festival of 
Indian 
literature and the make up was so that we could be shot for a magazine spread. 
But 
as I refused the eyelashes, fought off the inch thick make up, and expressed 
unhappiness over the hair do, I wondered at the irony. We were there to be part 
of a 
panel on 'Women Writers'. We all had strongly feminist views. And yet here we 
were, 
being transformed willy nilly into ultra glamorous, ultra feminine poster 
girls. My 
discomfort was intense. The amount of make up you are willing to put on your 
face 
has a direct relation to both your self image, and the compromises you have 
worked 
out with the world on just exactly how 'feminine' you are willing to be. It 
takes 
years, and unending struggles with the existing ideas of constraining feminity 
before you find your level of comfort with how you dress and make up.  In the 
battlefield of gender inequality, how much you are willing to put on your face 
is 
actually a deeply political choice. False eyelashes? Ha. Over my dead feminist 
body.

By the time the photo session was over, I was in a towering temper. The 
blissfully 
unaware organizers wanted us to appear with full make up, wearing designer 
clothes, 
to discuss women writers and their struggle. 'No' I ground out through gritted 
teeth 
'I am washing my face. I am wearing my own clothes. And only then will I come 
to the 
event.'

I did, and we went on to have a lively discussion. Shobha De started it off by 
commenting that very often she is the only woman on a panel. Invariably the 
host 
will introduce the men by their professional designations. Then turn to her and 
say 
'now we have the glamorous Shobha De'. Glamour seems to be the criteria to 
judge 
women no matter how high up the professional ladder they are.

Gender bias is not just a fancy word.  We wade ankle deep through it every 
single 
day. I grind my teeth every time a particular LIC  ad comes on air. It shows 
children declaring what they would like to be when they grow up. The boys plump 
for 
'doctor' 'pilot' and 'engineer'. The girls, of course, are stuck with 'teacher' 
and 
'beauty queen'.

If you make it through the bias and manage to carve yourself a professional 
niche, 
then you are promptly stuck with a label.  'Woman writer'. 'Woman director'. 
'Woman 
artist.' I am yet to understand how your body parts can possibly have anything 
to do 
with your being a writer, director or any kind of artist. In fact there are 
very few 
jobs for which you specifically need to be a woman. Therefore to have your 
achievements repeatedly measured by your cup size is very irritating.

Nothing brings home gender bias more strongly than a stroll through a toy shop. 
And 
it is a depressing fact that the bias cuts equally deeply both ways. For boys 
there 
are guns, tanks, planes, cars. For girls there are Barbie dolls, jewellery 
sets, and 
make up kits that are marked 'for 3 years and above'. Three years?! Isn't that 
really catching them young?

My two year old daughter, however, stubbornly ignores the glamour dolls, 
demands 
fast cars that go 'vroom vroom', and treasures an anatomically correct boy 
doll. I'm 
not sure that is entirely good news, especially not the last. But of this I am 
sure. 
As parents, one of the most important jobs we will do is to pick our way 
through the 
minefield of hidden gender biases, and make choices that will ensure that our 
children grow up being themselves, and not slaves to limiting ideas of what 
girls 
and boys should be or should achieve.

If we pull it off, that's an achievement that will deserve a cup. A silver one 
with 
handles on.       (ENDS)


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The above article appeared in the June 16, 2009 edition of the Herald, Goa


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