Musings

I was in my branch library recently. I’ve noticed that young librarians dress very hipster, as opposed to the old Marion the Librarian stereotype. I don’t mind, as I dressed very hippie during the Age of Aquarius. Each generation has its own style.

I however had to conform to a dress code back in the 1970s when I went to work. No pants were allowed in my first job, no sandals in my second. I don’t know how that wearing pants would have affected my job performance, but those were the rules.

The circulation librarian was helping an older woman with the copy machine. They were each having a hard time. The patron couldn’t wrap her mind around the instructions she was getting, and the librarian didn’t understand and wanted to show the older woman how it’s done.

If the librarian had stepped away, I would have just made the copies for the patron. It would have been quicker and easier for all concerned. But I’m just a patron myself now.

The older woman was probably born in the 1930s, and maybe had not kept up with technology through the decades. Technology can be hard for younger people, and a total foreign land for the elderly. I would also imagine that a woman of her generation was possibly a home body, whose husband had taken care of the trials of the outside world for the family. They each had a role. And possibly, any time she may have tried to venture beyond that role, she had been told that he would take care of it.

So she must have heard, no, you can’t; no, you can’t; no you can’t; over and over growing up and as an adult. If you’re taught you’re not capable, you start to believe it. And this is where she was probably coming from in her old age, looking at a copier with an LED readout, a separate machine for placing money, a confusingly marked platen for placing her papers.

I remember my mother, born in the 1920s, having a hard time making phone calls once area codes had to be dialed before the number. My dad, never patient, took over dialing all calls. (And here I am, talking about “dialing calls.”) My mother lost this skill, but he probably thought he was helping her. That was his job, to help and protect her. So he took it all on, until he just dropped dead at 76.

These roles that were so firmly ingrained did little service to either men or women. Prices were paid, high ones, and I wonder what potentials were missed out on.

The young librarian, probably born in the 1980s, growing up under Title 9, was told her sports were as valid as the boys’, was able to take shop if she wanted, and not have to deal with a home economics class. She hadn’t heard that statement (no, you can’t; no, you can’t; no, you can’t) and probably didn’t understand how undermined the patron had been.

I was born in the 1950s, and am of generation that bridges the changes in women’s priorities. When I was in eighth grade, the girls took home ec, the boys took wood shop. There was no choice, or expectation of choice. Little girls often still held back in crowds, because girls were delicate, and boys were rough. (Again, no, you can’t; no, you can’t.) There were tomboys, of course, but they were exceptions, and even had a special name--tomboys. They engaged in sports, climbed trees and cliffs, and were more adventurous. I don’t know if they were braver, or had a different kind of home support, or just didn’t care.

A retired school teacher told me once that he thinks that Title 9 is what has really leveled the “playing field” (pun intended) for both boys and girls. Little girls aren’t barred from activities just because they’re not feminine or too masculine. They’re not hearing no, you can’t, so much anymore. Yes, it’s moved the bar to a more equitable spot, for both men and women, and is good for both.

I took my niece’s children out for a guided hike recently. There was a hike leader who showed us birds’ nests, and animal burrows, and the remains of a ship wreck. My seven year old niece was right at the front, getting the best view, being engaged. Being fearless and fierce. She was born in this decade, and she’s been hearing yes, you can; yes, you can; yes, you can. And it shows.

So that’s how far the bar has moved in 80 years. We don’t use the terms tomboy or homebody so much anymore. People don’t have to be round pegs to go into round holes. It’s good for my great niece and for her older brother too, who will be able to find a partner in his life who will expect to face challenges equally. He can now hang back if he’s a little tired, or push forward if he’s not. I imagine life being a wonderful adventure for both these children, and look forward to see how each of them blossom and grow.

As for me, I do my best to turn off that channel in my head say no, I can’t, and turn it to yes, I can.