Word on the Street

When I was at school I was always told by my English teachers that I should write about what I know. Well, what I knew at fifteen was a deep despair that had no grounding in reality; the cruel stab of unrequited love (and ok, the cheap thrill of being loved but not loving in return) and the endless bore of small town Derbyshire.  Writing what I knew churned out introspective, self-pitying drivel. Sorry for putting you through that Mrs Hannon.

Hopefully, I’ve avoided the same pitfall on my little blog. This week I’ve been struck down with a cold and I’m seeking easy inspiration. Writing about what I know right now would constitute the television (Baking Made Easy is on in the background) and burly, surly teenagers. My last post was about the telly, so teenagers it is.

One of the great things abut working in a secondary school is dealing with people on the cusp of adulthood, trying to figure out how they’re going to make it all ok for themselves.  Slang plays a huge role in carving out their emerging identities. There are some really interesting examples of teenagers appropriating the language of previous generations. I’m thinking specifically about the rather quaint ‘oh my days’ (although it doesn’t seem quite so quaint when directed at you by a 12 year old rascal.) This phrase reconnects with an identity that could easily be lost. There are, however, plenty examples of slang that, at least to an outsider like me, feels less positive; language that seems to firmly have its origins in misogyny.

Much of this misogyny has its roots in sex (because we all know that female sexuality is a dangerous thing, to be derided and belittled.) There can be no better example than the word ‘beat’, which for those of you who don’t hang-out regularly with south London teenagers, means to have sex.  I have no doubt that to refer to sex through the use of a word that conjures violence, dominance and pain reveals a deeply misogynistic culture. I’ve challenged some of my students on this point (because if I don’t as their English teacher, who will?) and of course they defend themselves by claiming they are not using it with the same associations that I place upon the word. Probe a little deeper and they reveal that they wouldn’t say beat to refer to a long-term girlfriend: even on their own terms there is an acknowledgement of a lack of respect in the word and in the act.

Then there’s moist. It has it’s roots in sex too, a sort reference to the ever ready woman. Yup. That gross. And it’s usage? I’ve not had a decent explanation from a student but the general consensus is you don’t want to find yourself being called moist – you’d be branded a bit of an idiot.  So again, women and their sexuality are placed in the position of weakness and disdain.

You could say that these examples are merely words but if you did I’d give you a whole lecture on the social and cultural significance of language, what it reveals about our identities and biases, and you’d regret you’d said anything. And besides, the misogyny behind this language manifests itself in all sorts of ways.  Many boys are quick to interpret the female characters they encounter in the English classroom  as slags and if she’s not  a slag then she’s frigid, obviously.

I worry that this sort of language betrays a society that almost celebrates a violent and scornful outlook towards women. I worry what kind of partners and fathers these men will make, growing up in such a culture.

And so I’ll continue to question their interpretations and I’ll continue to challenge their use of misogynistic language, even if it feels like smacking my head against a very thick brick wall.

Word.

Mrs Keys lets the side down

I had made the conscious decision not to wade into the Andy Gray/Richard Keys debate. I’d hate to end up waffling into the ether, only regurgitating clichés and hackneyed ideas. I thought other people were doing a pretty decent job of responding and I might as well leave them to it.

And then today Mrs Keys decides to add her twopenn’orth.  You can see her in a number of quality tabloids, tray of teacups in hand, hurrying towards the hacks camped outside her home. With a big smile she chirrups:

"As a man, there are bits of you that never grow up."

I was pleased to see that The Sun, not known for its considered and subtle approach to gender issues (see its website feature ‘hottest girls of the week’), recognised that she “risked being a little guilty of sexist stereotyping herself” in dismissing her husband’s remarks as “boys’ banter”.

Gender stereotypes work both ways and I have no doubt that the projection of such ideas as the macho, brave and muscle‑bound man, or indeed the silly, useless, hopeless male, are every bit as unhelpful and unwanted as the traditional stereotypes of the ideal woman.

However, I fear the remarks of Mrs Keys have more disturbing consequences for gender relations. Stereotyping sexist remarks as male ‘boisterous behaviour’ grants men the permission to be sexist. Because, you know, those silly boys, they can’t help it, can they?

This sort of glib comment undermines any opportunity for women to claim an equal footing with men. It reinforces the idea of a gender divide; that we are simply different from each other and must accept things as so; that there’s nothing we can do about any adverse effects arising out of such differences.

I believe that if we gave Mrs Keys the right to reply she might suggest a sort of female empowerment in her remarks, that she is acknowledging an inherent, more mature female strength. In doing so she perpetuates the idea that boys will be boys and there’s nothing we can do about the injustices they inflict on women. Indeed, these boys in men’s bodies need all sorts of looking after: they’ll be useless in the home, they won’t be able to cook or clean or sort the kids out so we women better make sure we are in charge of that. And you know, if they let their tempers get the better of them, well, they’re only testosterone fuelled men, what we can we expect? At what point does such a justification become absurd?

Never mind winning the hearts and minds of men. There’s no hope if we can’t even change women’s own perspective.

 (By the by, some of my year 11 boys questioned whether Gray’s and Keys’ remarks were sexist at all, challenging me to explain the offside rule, which I duly did with aplomb. Score!)