Oliver Benjamin
group. Let me explain the dilemma of this class: I hated feminists. I
thought they should all go crawl under a Rock Hudson or something.
I figured the only reason they still existed was because their credo “all
men are dicks” had become a popular catch phrase, which,
incidentally, I agreed with also. I pretty much hated everybody. So
why did I take this class? I guess I needed a good laugh, and I was
having a hard time starting controversial debate in the courses of my
major, which was math.
Charly laughed condescendingly at me in class, but in our
experimental section she merely treated me like a child who didn’t
know any better. As I got to know her from our section meetings
twice a week, I became intrigued by her style and impressed with her
poise. One day in particular stands out in memory.
“…it seems to me that we are all human beings on this planet, and
everyone should be treated equally, regardless of the way they are
physically,” proclaimed Joanne Clooney, a proud face suggesting that
she was the first person in history to think of this. She paused for a
second, and then added hesitantly, “…or mentally.” A short, stinging
silence followed. I suspected that everyone was trying to visualize an
equal, regardless world in which Joanne Clooney could be equally
and regardlessly elected to public office.
“Well, I see what you mean, Joanne, but you have to admit that
sometimes life doesn’t work that way,” offered Herman Popper, a
disheveled and balding third-year economics major.
“What do you mean?” Joanne sputtered.
“Well, I’m not saying that women are inferior to men, I’m just
saying that there are certain things that women can’t compete with
men at,” offered Herman.
“Such as?” said Faye Reynolds and Britt Clausewitz in harmony,
with pointed stares and tilted heads with goading sneers on them.
Faye and Britt were the tall, harshly attractive co-editors of Sisterly
Love, the campus feminist newspaper, and since they were assumed
to be experts, usually had the last word in any discussion of the
matter.
Herman glanced at the rest of the group for reassurance. We
offered him nothing. He floundered. “Well, like how about security
guarding, or, um…iron smelting?” After an uncomfortable silence,
someone finally spoke.
“You’re no expert on security yourself,” Britt snapped, “We see
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