I cannot remember how many times I've had a conversation with a German, in which he or she railed against some aspect of American (non-)culture, habits, manners or politics. The most infuriating part of these conversations is almost never the person's opinions, his or her disdain for certain aspects of America that I love or even the person's complete lack of knowledge about the topic at hand - the most obnoxious part is inevitably the moment when the person makes a kind of caveat to show that he or she does not include me in their negative opinion.
It's always bugged me that I have to state right away that I didn't vote for Bush and that I don't support a large number of his policies before I can "safely" admit to being an American and engage in a conversation with a European Bush critic. When I'm feeling particularly testy, I often tell the person, "you know, I'm not a Bush supporter, but would you honestly refuse to talk to me about politics if I was? Before you knew
why I supported Bush, how could you possibly determine whether you and I were really all that different?"
Over Christmas, my boyfriend's grandmother was telling some story about some "foreigners" that had moved to her small town (I say "foreigners" because in Germany, the term is often used in reference to German citizens, born and raised here, who happen to have a non-Teutonic ethnic background.). I can't remember the story itself - all I remember was that she made a small aside, saying, "Stephanie, of course you're not
really a foreigner." It was meant as a compliment, and I politely accepted it, but secretly, it made my blood boil. So foreigners who are educated, don't commit crimes and - most importantly - don't stick out as being foreigners aren't really foreign? The implication is obviously that to be foreign is to be somehow bad, and more specifically to be bad for German society.
But I don't just get this kind of backhanded compliment for being a "good" American or "good" foreigner - I get it for being a "good" woman.
I was always a tomboy and as such, I was frequently made to feel that "the guys" treated me differently than other girls. Initially, I liked this. I really enjoyed being one of the guys, and it earned me some wonderful friendships that I cherish to this day. On the other hand, I slowly came to realize that my treatment by boys and men was often the product of a general prejudice against women; because I didn't resemble other women in ways these men had decided to be "typically female," I deserved their respect. In essence, the same principle was being applied. Women were different and inferior, present company excluded.
"You're such a bright young woman."
"Stephanie's such a good analytical thinker."
The best comment came from an ex-boyfriend when I asked him what had initially attracted him to me. "I just sensed that you're not as complicated as most women."
Granted, there are plenty of people who have complimented me for being bright, a good analytical thinker and the like from whom I never got the sense that they were surprised to find these qualities in a woman. Nevertheless, I've had my fair share of sexist, backhanded, my-goodness-you're-not-as-horrible-as-most-women compliments, especially since graduating from college and entering the working world.
I'll never forget one staffers' meeting at the Bundestag. At the time, none of the others knew who I was, and because I was comparatively young, most assumed I was an intern. Towards the end of the meeting, however, I got very involved in the conversation, asking many critical questions and taking apart many of the others' arguments for a position with which I didn't agree. After the meeting, several of the staffers must have asked my colleague who I was, because within the next few days, I got several phone calls and visits from staffers - all male - who wanted to get to know me better. From what I could tell, these staffers didn't have intellectual friendships with their female colleagues (who were also very bright), so why did they seek one with me? Because I was young and pretty, and because when I opened my mouth, I defied their stereotype of a young and pretty woman as being an airhead.
A few years later, I couldn't help notice how often I was invited to small meetings, working breakfasts, expert seminars, etc. in which I was not only the youngest person by at least ten years, but also the
only woman. The barrage of compliments I got that simultaneously derided the entire female gender was astounding. Needless to say, it wasn't much later that I decided to switch industries. Granted, academia is not without its own problems with sexism, but it takes on different forms than in the politicians' world of countless gray-suited middle-aged men and the handful of good-looking much younger female colleagues.
What I'm getting at is that our society is still filled with a kind of bigotry that hides behind a veneer of compliments. "You're so great for your nationality/gender/economic background/skin color."
The last point, skin color, became a hot issue recently when Senator Joe Biden referred to Barack Obama as an "articulate" African-American. I wasn't aware of the particular history of the word "articulate" as applied to African-Americans, but apparently it's been one of the most stubborn vestiges of racism, used to describe successful black people who contradict the stereotype by virtue of their success in the mainstream economy. The New York Times published an
article in today's Week in Review, and that was what inspired me to write this little entry on my own struggles with the bigoted compliment.
Well, I've been putting this off for forever - the belly pictures. First, a view in profile (as you can see, I'm on my way to bed). Then you'll see the belly in all its glory, shot at an angle to embellish its size. And lastly, just to show that I don't look quite THAT pregnant in normal street clothes, a picture taken just an hour beforehand with Oko.
