I’m twelve years old, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t get the words out of my mouth. My whole body tenses up. A group of judgemental adolescents look at me, not understanding why I can’t speak. I stutter and stammer through my name. I resolve never to speak in class again. I dread every presentation, every in-class reading with absolute terror.
My struggle with a speech impediment left me voiceless for years. In class, I wanted to contribute but feared freezing up. I acted like I didn’t know the answer to questions so that I wouldn’t have to speak in public. I felt unimportant and unintelligent. I shrank from new encounters, not wanting to be asked my name. I tried to make myself invisible so that people wouldn’t call on me and expose my inability to string a sentence together.
Lacking a voice and acting invisible is detrimental to the individual. You feel less intelligent because a lack of response is equated with a lack of knowledge. You feel less important because the needs of more vocal individuals are met before your own. You defer to others rather than leading. You take up less space in the world.
This happened to me on an individual level because of my stutter, and happens more destructively to women on a systemic level. Women and girls are told throughout their lives to be subdued, small, and passive. Stereotypes teach men to be loud and boisterous, to be large, aggressive and assertive. Studies show that men interrupt women during group conversations and in one-on-one interactions, especially in academic and professional settings. Men often “mansplain” things to more qualified women, ignoring their capabilities.
This suppression also occurs physically, as men notoriously “manspread” while society teaches women to be small and ladylike. Men feel entitled to having their voices heard while many women feel pressured to take up as little space as possible.
To be clear, the disproportionate ownership of space occurs among many lines—including race, sexual orientation, and socio-economic status—but examining all of these identities together is beyond the scope of this column.
An imbalance of space means an imbalance of power. Men have their voices disproportionately represented in almost any mixed-gender group, giving men disproportionate power to influence group dialogue and decisions. Constant interruption discredits the ideas of women, giving them less power and authority. Discouraging women from speaking makes them appear less intelligent, robbing them of a voice. Suppressing brilliant women also robs society, as we miss out on their potential accomplishments. Discouragement also damages self-esteem, inhibiting women from fulfilling their full potential.
Most people perform these suppressive actions unconsciously. I’ve been guilty of it as much as anyone else. Various friends have called me out multiple times for centering conversations around myself and assuming that I know more than other people about subjects I’m not really qualified to speak on. In this situation, men must fight the instinct to respond defensively, learn to recognize these behaviors on their own, and learn how to take up less space in daily interactions. If you’re ever uncertain, ask those close to you how you’re doing, and be open to constructive criticism.
The solution to this issue isn’t for men to just stop talking, as completely disengaging from discourse isn’t productive either. Men need to engage in mindful and respectful conversation, making sure to give other parties appropriate speaking time and attention. Men should be aware of how much physical space they take up in public places, leaving adequate room for people of other genders. We should encourage the women in our lives to speak up and we should validate their ideas and opinions.
Giving up space means giving up power, and men must accept this in order to promote gender equity. The amount of space given to men affords them unearned power, a privilege created by the oppression of other genders. This often occurs even without men asking for it. By actively taking up less space, and by lifting up the women in our lives, men transfer some of this power. But keep in mind, this isn’t a bad thing―in fact it should be liberating to shed toxic habits and hear the voices of those long-oppressed.
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Ethan Ready is a Trinity sophomore. His column runs on alternate Tuesdays.