So Genderella uses Facebook. Already her fault, right? One day, Genderella read an article and reposted it on Facebook, because she found it interesting and worthy to share. How dumb of her to think that on her own timeline she could post things just like that. Not long afterwards, the troll was there, making his first comment mansplaining everything the article said was dumb. So Genderella thought, “Hey, maybe I can point out what is actually good about the article.” She was so young and so naive. Comment after comment followed, in which the tone of the troll stayed equally arrogant, and dismissed all of her arguments by exaggerating his perceived reality. Until she finally exploded. So dumb, right? Why would you ever show your emotions in a social media discussion? Of course, the troll happily accepted this failure, and send another comment pointing out her emotional reaction was inappropriate. Genderella, now determined to not leave the discussion first, wrote another comeback, and finally, the troll exploded as well. Genderella wrote another comment, pointing out again what she thought was worthy of sharing of the article, and stating how the debate could have been enriched. Then, a white knight showed up. He took time and words to explain to the troll how he was wrong, and how he apparently had no interest in a real discussion, either. He also emphasized his own expert position in the debate. He mentioned the same aspects Genderella did, but in the words of a white knight, of course. And then, the unimaginable happened: the troll gave him a “Like” and stayed silent. Genderella was saved. Of course, a white knight had to end the debate. Who has ever heard of a fairy tale princess saving herself?
Gotta love public transport! Every now and then when Genderella embarks on her commutes to and from the corridors of knowledge, she encounters new and exciting adventures.
Once upon a time on public transport, Genderella was happy to finally get on a bus after waiting for half an hour for one to pass with at least minimal possibilities to stand on her own two feet only. She managed, and thanks to her being slightly taller than the average bus taker at that location, she was almost comfortable holding on to the handhold at the roof of the bus. With parts of human bodies everywhere around her, she didn’t immediately notice the hand on her ass, but only when it finally left.
On a different occasion, Genderella stood next to the handhold at one of the bus doors, when a man “accidentally” touched her breast instead of the handhold. Another time, a man used her tigh as hand rail while trying to stand up from the floor, where he’s been sitting. Genderella never wondered about these incidences, because from what she heard from her peers, that was just the way things went.
Only that one time, when Genderella traveled home from a concert alone on an almost empty train, things where different. That one time, a man stood across from her, watching. Genderella didn’t like his look, but didn’t think about it too much, until she realized the man was moving his hand very strangely inside the pocket of his pants while continuing to watch her. Genderella felt very uncomfortable, she noticed her head getting red and felt ashamed. But since there was no-one else in sight, she decided to act. When she got up at the next stop to change lines, she looked the man straight in the eye and told him he was disgusting. He blushed, but didn’t come after her, fortunately.
After that, Genderella didn’t feel great. She felt that, although she had conquered a little space for herself and fought of some evil dragons, she really only won a battle, not the war.
Check out Genderella’s other stories here.
Once upon a time in the far away kingdom of academia, young Genderella set forth on her way to make a PhD. On her long journey through the corridors of knowledge, she came across many friendly allies, who would help her sort the peas and lentils from the ashes. She would learn about the difference between sex and gender, about intersectionality, about queerness and the importance of fair and inclusive speech. But every now and then, evil step-sisters and brothers crossed her way, too. There came this particularly dark month, where in only four weeks, she broke so many glass slippers on the stairs, she almost forgot how to dance.
One day, she was sitting with her male peers and had lunch. A few days earlier, news had spread about some terrible incidents in the kingdom of Cologne at saint’s day of St. Sylvester. For many parts, the conversation was focussed on the origin of the bandits. Genderella tried to introduce her perspective into the discussion, stating that more important than the origin of the bandits would be a discussion about the security of women more in general. But no-one reacted to her intervention. A few minutes later, on of her male colleagues voiced the same critique, and then the other men would engage in that discussion for a short time, before coming back to the earlier direction of the talk. That’s when Genderella noticed, her opinions were not as important as those of her cis-male peers.
It happened another day, that Genderella participated in a discussion about a text from one of her peers. She then suggested gender as analytical category to look at a problem. Her peer accepted the critique and thanked her for it, but an evil stepfather could not hold on to himself and said, Genderella must obviously be wrong, because gender was not at all important to that question: something else already was. So Genderella realized, there could only be one explanation for every problem in the world – or in a text, respectively. Continue reading