"honey, a lawyer? really?"
A customer, one I’d like to call “a regular” came into the store yesterday. Picking up a few more overpriced items for her overly coddled daughter. She realized it was probably the last time she would see me, and for some reason her warped perception of reality made her think that this business transaction we had going meant some sort of friendship between us. She was wrong. Of course. So she stands there, feet away from me, looking me up and down as she asks me what my ~real~ plan in life was. Because god forbid, a young lady like myself work retail the rest of my life. I mean listen lady, I am making the most money I have ever made sitting here listening to songs I love, and writing poems while you spend your days perusing stores. But sure, you may be right, I won’t be doing this forever, but that doesn’t mean that this would be a terrible choice. She was right in a sense though, yes I do have a plan outside of managing this little pop up store, I told her, the plan was law school. I want to be a lawyer I said. I told her I would be working as a paralegal for the year, until I hear back from the schools I plan to apply to. That’s when her pretentious jaw dropped. Now I see this and I think she probably was shocked knowing that me, this girl who dances around the store in flowy floral skirts, tattoos up my arm, and hair messy from the wind, would plan to be a lawyer was quite shocking to her. It was shocking, that is, but not in the respect I assumed. She moved the bin from the seat next to me, and scooted her body so she was even closer than before, I felt her hot breath on my arm. She sat there with a scowl on her made up face prepared to have what seemed like a very important conversation with me. Her mouth slightly opened as I anticipated the next sentence, she closed it again, licked her dried up lips and began to speak.
“Honey, a lawyer?” she said, as if the whole concept was as disgusting as someone's gum stuck to the bottom of your foot. Now her calling me honey, already deeply angered me, I hate being called honey, always will. But what came next, out of that tasteless mouth was what really boiled my blood. She told me that she got a law degree, that it was an absolute waste of time. That a woman, like me (as if she knows anything about me), like her, (as if we are fucking similar, I laugh) should not be studying to be a lawyer, should not even be a lawyer. That in a world of men, like we live in, I should be a wife, a mother, maybe get my masters in something less “time consuming”. That as a young woman who has the rest of her life to look forward, the life of a lawyer is not one I should pursue. That I am a beautiful young girl who doesn’t want to spend her days and nights reading briefs, changing laws, advocating for people who can’t necessarily advocate for themselves (this part, my words, not hers). That I should go into something less tedious, something more pedestrian. That the time I would spend studying to be a lawyer, paying money, owing money, working nights, is time wasted. When I could stay at home, be a mother and wife, and let my husband work while I “play”, she literally said. She laughed, giggled one might call it, then stood up, said it was a pleasure to meet me, and that she hoped that I made the right decision.
Now I sat there and watched as she strutted away in her 300$ shoes that I assumed her husbands money bought her, and wanted to scream. As a woman, I, since a young age have been told by a countless number of men that I am not good enough. That anything I do will not be as good as my male counterpart. That anything I wear, or even discuss is somehow, and I really don’t understand this, sexualized.Now not always in these words, or as blunt, but it was said, it was meant. I was told to shut up, stop arguing and voicing my “many opinions” in order to get further in life. That all I was doing was causing more problems, when, if I kept my pretty little mouth shut, I wouldn’t have as many issues with people. That was said to me by a school counselor in high school, when I would constantly get in trouble for arguing, for voicing these so called opinions of mine, for fighting for what was right, when all they wanted me to do was sit there, take some notes, nod, and let injustice happen. This was never something I was okay with, and so I didn’t. I continued to say how I felt, whether it landed me in the “office” or not. This though got worse as I left high school, left my little bubble of a world I felt so comfortable, felt so free and powerful in. It just never ended, the constant feeling that I was less. That if you had a dick, if you walked the streets a white straight man, you were superior. You were superior to me, as a woman, to my father as a latino man, to the countless number of black men, women, children, who are afraid to reach into their pockets to grab a slice of gum if a man with a gun may be around.
The world is unfair, there is no way to look around it. But as I was seeing so much injustice to people that were only getting treated this way because of skin color, because of where they lived, what they did for work, their names, everything in me needed to do something. I can’t just sit around in a store all day, making money, great fucking money, while this is happening. I know, I should be so thankful that my job is so easy. I literally do the bare minimum and get paid a whole lot to do it. But I wake up every morning feeling pointless, feeling lifeless, that maybe one day if I didn’t wake up, if I didn’t get on the bus, then the train, then walked the distance to this stupid little store, it wouldn’t really matter. I want to make some sort of change, and even though I am one small person, I am going to do it. I don’t care about the money, or the time spent, if I have the ability, which I do, and the drive, and the means, and the education to do something, to help at least one person, to be able to voice my opinions, to maybe change laws, I am going to do it. I am not going to sit at home and be a wife, be a mother, while I could be out there doing something. Don’t get me wrong, that’s a noble pursuit, but for me, it would never be fulfilling. If I mosey my way through life, shopping in over priced stores on Newbury Street, all to go home, have a glass of wine with a man I probably don’t love, I’d rather be dead (dramatic? maybe. the truth? yes)
Just because injustice, and discrimination, and pain is not happening directly to me (though sometimes it is) or right in front of me, doesn’t mean it’s not happening. This woman, this “regular”, this entitled piece of shit who told me to do something “a bit easier” probably wakes up everyday with a giant smile on her face. Wakes up knowing that her, a white woman, whose husband is probably making well over 6 figures, has it god damn easy. She doesn’t worry, she doesn't care, because she’s fine, she’s set. She doesn’t see that there are so many people who are being discriminated against, being fucking killed because of their skin color. Or men who rape women who get a god damn slap on the wrist. Her law degree was pointless, only because she didn’t do anything with it. She is out here “playing” as she called it, while her husband is working. She mentioned how in this world, it’s easier for men, so why not make it easier for us as well. It is easier for men, she was right about that. So I will just have to work that much harder to get to where I want to be.
Now I know I said I didn’t want to get political or that serious on this ~blog~ of mine, but the game has changed. I am pissed the fuck off. That someone could look at me and say what she said. As a woman, as someone who probably has dealt with the things we women deal with on a day to day occurrence, can look me in the eyes and tell me to give up on my dream, because it will be hard. Yeah it will, it really will. I have dealt with bosses who have sexually assaulted me, who have told me that I was too pretty for this job, and to pursue a job “more built for a face like mine”. I have dealt with men making more than me when I do a better job, I have dealt with a superior squeezing my waist, and calling me a smoke show. With men who hear the word yes, when all I kept saying was no, was please stop. The men who cat call me when I am literally wearing pants and t shirt, and all I wanted to do was get a fucking gatorade from the store. And then this woman has the nerve to come up to me and tell me give up, “because its too hard for us ladies”. It is hard. It is. Living in a world where white straight men really do get away with it all is not remotely acceptable, and I wish at some point it will change. But right now it’s really fucking hard. But that doesn’t mean I give up. It means I keep going, I keep trying, we all should keep trying until we get what we want. I want to live in a world, where my boss doesn’t comment on my looks or my ass every single day.
No ma’am I will not give up and be a “wife” or a mother, and get a degree in something less time consuming. All she did was make me want it so much more. Make me want to take the damn rest of my life to be a lawyer, to maybe be a judge, to change the laws for people who need it. Though it sucks to be told to give up, or to do something easier, and it sucks that something like being a lawyer is seen as time consuming “especially for a woman”, but all that should tell us is that we need to try harder. We need to make things different for everyone. The more we are told no, or called less than, or looked at in a way that causes doubts, instead of letting it sit there and hurt us, or stop us, we have to use it. We have to use it as fuel for whatever dreams we have. I have a lot of those you know, ~dreams~. Some involve being a goddamn civil rights lawyer fighting for the many injustices people endure, others involve love and floating away on a sunny beach far away from everything. But whatever they are, whatever they will be, because everything changes every single damn day, including our wants and needs, no one, and I mean no one is going to stop me from pursuing them. Especially miss fancy shoes over here. And that’s my rant for the day. Now that I am done, I am going to go buy some nicorette gum, so I can quit the juul and not die tomorrow and study a bit more for my LSATs so I can look back at that rude lady and laugh just a little bit when I am a lawyer. Okay, peace out fuckers.
