‘Misfits’ and the things we dread

I arrived wearing ‘non-school’ (meaning not allowed) attire on my first day at the Grey City, the legendary glory of the coast set on the desert hill, many years ago. I may have turned a few heads, but I sure did not make headlines. I guess my infraction was seemingly not as detestable nor life changing as the current challenge so all I got was a mild scolding from the bemused lady in charge.

prim and proper on interview day

I am conflicted, without a doubt on the question of how much latitude school authorities should not have by way of regulations in the context of general rights; never mind the sometimes obviously dubious and discriminatory stances. I mean, as an example, why could Caucasians be permitted to keep their hair long or in braids ‘because it was natural to them’, contrary to general rules in high schools to keep hair short? But my interest is really not in the particular but in what activates similar debates in the first place.

Not so long ago, I came very close, very close to cutting my locs which I had worn for more than a decade at the time. Well-meaning friends, classmates and senior colleagues counselled that I had come too close to becoming a member of the robbed and wigged fraternity to risk not getting in just because of my hair. I agreed with their logic. After all, I was never shy of short hair and I could grow my hair all over again as I had done countless times again.  But then I wondered, would this mean I could not grow my locs again for as long as I remained in the fraternity? I had also been advised to wear a skirt not trousers to the interview because females wearing pants were frowned on; so, did that also mean I could not wear trousers in practice?

Well, I did not cut my locs off but I did take the trouble to wrap it up 'nicely', if you will. I decided, if the interviewing panel could not look past my hair and would disregard my academic credentials and self-professed proven integrity then 'makola', the only professional law school in Ghana was probably not the place for me. Foolhardiness maybe or perhaps there was not that much at stake for me. My hair was not and never has been a statement of anything other than a lifestyle choice.

I recall one of my mates, finding the courage after a year of sitting in the same post grad class with me, asking with a knowing smile, if I was a 'roots girl' (whatever that meant). I told him that I was actually a full plant! Not to worry, I said that sweetly. Incidentally, many friends and family who advised against locking my hair when I first contemplated it and among other things opined that it was not professional, not nice and that it gave a bad impression about a person etc. now think it's nice. Some have even joined the ‘sisterhood’ because it is now what, trendy?

It's been several years of odd comments and assumptions about who I am but the on-going (dread) loc controversy is only symptomatic of our general attitude to many other things, attitudes that are unquestioned and presumably unquestionable; often justified by reference to the ‘who we are’ refrain. Really, who are we?

The real debates are yet to come but what are the odds that we will take a hard look at our fears and prejudices and challenge their very basis?

Salut

'Strong' Woman

                                                                                   

March 8. It's International Women's Day and I struggled to construct a pithy statement that conveyed my thoughts; thoughts that had been lingering on my mind for a little over a week. In the end, I settled for this social media post which I believe captures both the mood of the day and it's essence, including all the struggles and triumphs not only of the great and known but the small and unseen.

My thoughts had been stirred by another post stating, "Behind every strong woman is a story that gave her no other choice" - on an all-female platform over which I voiced some disquiet and the reactions flowing therefrom. It makes a 'strong' statement and I intend no pun as you would soon understand. My reading was that, a woman is forced to be 'strong' only if she has no choice. Question; what is she otherwise? and does it matter that she is not 'strong'?

I had explained that though I understood that gender discrimination and patriarchy are still challenges that many women contend with and appreciate the sense of solidarity that such statements are supposed to convey; it seemed to me that the statement implied an inherent weakness of the female which was only displaced by ‘strength’ after overcoming some unusual circumstance. In my view this position does not recognize all the 'strong women' I see about me every day; women who are strong simply because they survive the drudgery of their ordinary lives; many of whom will only escape their lives after death. For me, this reality did not make them the weaker, nor did it reflect a lack of strength.

After some back and forth, it was urged on the group by one participant and supported by others that women ‘…start off as the weaker sex because of the way we’ve been socialized. We later learn skills to protect ourselves and our own and become strong(er)'. This got me thinking as I struggled to rationalize the notions of natural as against socialized weakness of the female. 

I was nurtured to be confident and independent, to have an opinion and see no difference except biological between myself and my brothers, be responsible for my actions, not expect another (a man) to carry my load. So I grew up defying, sometimes fighting extraneous expectations to exhibit tendencies supposedly more akin to females and though I caved to pressure sometimes I never departed from my true self. I started off being an ordinary girl, but grew more and more aware of the pressures to be other than myself- weaker maybe? Some say I'm a 'strong woman' (whatever that means) but I see nothing extraordinary in a woman with a worldview such as mine; even though I have come to appreciate the challenge of navigating society with preconceived labels. The idea that women start off as the weaker sex and later learn to be strong, if even theoretically defensible, was not my reality and I do not believe it is that of many females.  

But that is not to deny the realities of others. Context and environment matter. The question though is whether the weakness is inherent in the female? More importantly, what does it really mean to be a 'strong woman' with the unfortunate consequence, sometimes, of defining the strength of a woman by the popular notions of achievement, success and superior ability to overcome a major life hurdle? 

The acclaimed Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie captured this well in her 'danger of a single story' TED talk.   ‘The single story creates stereotypes, and the problem with stereotypes is not that they are untrue, but that they are incomplete. They make one story become the only story’, she said. 
That said, I would like to think that if even I was to be referred to as a ‘strong’ woman, it should not be because I overcame an unusual or dreadful situation (though I have survived a few of those), but because I live, I survive, and I thrive. 

 
I am a woman. Nothing more. The labels don't count. Never will.