a call for chivalry

Tonight, as I was leaving the gym, this guy was talking on his cell phone. I was in front of him as we walked in sync down the stairs and by the time we got to the door, he was so close behind me that I just held the door for him as he busted through and entirely ignored the fact that he had cut me off and that I had held the door open for him. So, I did what I always do in that situation: I said, "you're welcome!" in a clear and assertive voice, forcing him to look at me and acknowledge the fact that he hadn't said "thank you" and also, to acknowledge the fact that he had cut off a woman.

A few weeks ago, I had class in the city early one Saturday morning, and so, toting my large bag full of my books and wallet and everything else I need for my class, I made my way down to the subway platform to wait for my train to carry me off to midtown. I was right in the front of the doors as they opened, an extremely desirable place to be, and I made my way in and headed straight to an open seat, when a guy, without daring to look up at me, cut me off and sat in what should have been my seat. Well, I did what I felt was necessary in that situation and stared at him for the duration of the ride, delighting in his obviously careful aversion of my eyes. Rude. It would be rude had it been a woman; but even more rude that this was a man doing that to me.

I give you one final story. I'm again heading to the city. I make my way down the stairs and get in place to be next in line to swipe myself through the turnstile when a guy, holding a girl's hand, shoved in front of me and swiped their cards. I was taken aback a bit, so I looked at them and said, "by all means, please, go ahead!" Bitchy? Yes. Necessary? Totally. But I wasn't done. I, somehow, managed to beat them down the stairs and into the car, which made me happy. Then I decided I would openly stare at them; not an angry or disapproving stare, but a purely observing, unreadable kind of stare, as if I were watching the penguins at the Bronx Zoo. The guy finally came over to me and said, "I guess chivalry really is dead, huh?" I said, "it doesn't have to be."

I'm no dummy. I'm entirely aware that times are different and women fought hard for equality and so then, with it, chivalry has apparently taken a nose dive in popularity. Then there are those people who argue about rigid gender roles and expectations that accompany those roles. I know that some people are thinking that my preconceptions about a man holding a door for me or the whole 'ladies first' philosophy is ridiculously outdated, but I think it's not quite so simple. It's not that I want to be home cooking and cleaning and not being able to make a living for myself so that a man has to take care of me and treat me like the fairer sex, it's something else. It's something deeper. It's a need I have to show that I can do it but to have men still acknowledge that I am a woman and to treat me as such.

My coworker is one of the kindest men I have ever met in my life on this Earth. He treats each and every person with respect and he always holds doors for women, jumps to take heavy loads out of our hands as we're walking down the hall, comes in willingly to drill a hole in our plaster walls to hang our clock, and always lets female students enter and exit rooms first, saying 'ladies first.' Is he a sexist? Absolutely not. He's a gentleman. He makes life brighter for people that he comes into contact with. Instead of looking out for himself, he looks out to take care of his coworkers and, with it, comes that warmth of knowing that someone is noticing you and looking to make your burden, whatever it is, a little more bearable.

The last day before spring break, my classroom-mate and I had to put away all our valuables because our floor was going to be redone. One of my former students, an eighth grade boy, was in the room looking to help out. Eighth grade boys have a way of coming in one day without warning and towering over me, by the way. One minute they are little pipsqueaks and then, out of the blue, boom! They're looking at the top of my head and speaking to me in a deep man's voice. It's unreal. Anyway, we have one of those heavy duty printers and so, I said, "Matthew, you know, I work out quite a bit. I could totally handle that printer on my own," to which he replied, "right, or I could just do it for you since it's the right thing to do!" I loved that he was looking to help in this way and I acknowledged how appreciative I was to have him there while I picked up the heavy and bulky printer and lugged it over to the cart to be moved into another room.

And there it is. Acknowledgement. It's nice to know that someone is there to help if you need it. Trust me, I would never survive a day in the 1800s where women were expected to do such difficult work, giving birth, raising kids, staying home and cooking and cleaning and tending to everyone while you were invisible and lacked any rights. I would have been burned at the stake. I would have been called a witch and burned alive. I know it. And so, maybe, when I think about it that way, we're not so bad off, are we? I mean, it's not like it was better to have your father trade you for four goats to the farmer down the street. Is that chivalrous? Not really. I get to fend for myself, make my own living, show off my strength of spirit and body and when a guy forgets that I'm a lady, I totally have the right to remind him. Not so bad, really. And to all those guys who are always chivalrous: we ladies thank you even when we act like we don't need it... it's nice to know it's there.