Oliver Benjamin
Britt chose to ignore its value and see it as an attack instead. Attack,
counterattack, attack. So the cycle continues, and little is
communicated, nothing accomplished.”
Britt was fuming. Charly continued, “What’s really at stake here,
the real issues for women, aren’t even wages or voting rights. The real
issue—everyone’s issue nowadays—goes much deeper than that. The
real issue is that we don’t even hear each other talking. We only hear
ourselves. And until we learn to listen, we’ll keep screaming
ourselves and each other deaf. Ironically, listening is one of the
things women are supposed to be superior to men at, but as we’ve
just seen, we’re all guilty of this.”
As Charly paused to gather her breath, Britt cut in,
flabbergasted: “What did we do to deserve a tongue-lashing from
someone like you? Don’t you think that was out of line? Aren’t you
guilty of attacking us as well?”
Charly shrugged. “You started it,” she said.
“You bitch!” she shrieked.
“If you don’t like my way of doing things, then join a new
section. And please apologize to Herman before you go. Now, let’s try
and stay with the syllabus…” she said turning to the rest of the group,
still completely in control, “Herman, what do you think is the reason
that women couldn’t compete for those jobs you mentioned? Do you
think it’s because of a lack of physical strength, or do you think it
might be because there is little or no precedent at this time for
women seeking employment in those fields of work?…”
I was strangely impressed. We all were. At the time, we didn’t
know exactly why we were impressed, though. I had thought it was
because Charly publicly embarrassed two people whom I thought
were imbeciles, but I now know that that wasn’t it at all. Where we all
played it safe during a difficult exchange, Charly remained cool and
told it like it was. She seemed to have a quality that none of us had
really seen before, because we had never understood it or practiced it
ourselves. It was what people at one time referred to as “a system of
values,” but we knew only dimly as something to be eschewed,
something vaguely old-fashioned. It sure looked cool in practice,
though. But how did one acquire values? How could anyone know
what was really correct, when everyone and every situation was so
different? I spent my days questioning everything, taught that there
were so many different ways of looking at everything.
“Charly, uh…wait up!” I shuffled up to her after the class.
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