Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own poignantly captures the uphill battle women face when trying to compete in a male-established field. She promoted the idea that women had to carve out a space of their own instead of trying to do what men did--in essence, don't fight for the space, work around it.
Unfortunately for me, my fight for space is not an academic, theoretical space, but actual physical space. Every day, I have to fight for a seat on the subway. I know, it's just a seat. After all, it's not as if I have to fight for land or natural resources. However, it is still a space that I have a fight for.
Every morning on the train I see the same thing: seat after seat after seat of men sitting with their legs spread apart, sometimes taking up to three seats with their body. Essentially their body language is saying this: this train is MY space. Mine! I have complete disregard for the fact that the train is overcrowded and some people were not able to get onto the train because I am taking up the space of two additional people. I don't care about them and I don't care about you--this is mine.
There have actually been times when I am already sitting and a guy sits next to me, only to spread his legs further and further apart, literally forcing me to sit in a more narrow space. At first I thought men might just be trying to hit on me. Then I came to realize that it was not a method of touching my body, but the idea that they felt entitled to the space. The space I was sitting in was not mine--it belonged to them.
It is such a patriarchal notion to think you are entitled to space. When I mean patriarchal, I mean a system that has cultured men and women to behave in certain ways that are deemed just or proper for their gender. Although I have seen a few women take up space with their bodies on the subway, the majority has been men. However, the big difference is that as the train becomes more crowded, it is the women on the train who move their bodies to accommodate for more space. Men rarely feel the need to move. This observation is why I categorize the act of entitlement to space as patriarchal--it has nothing to do with what men and women do, but how men and women do things differently because of how they have been cultured to act. Women, as a whole, are not conditioned to exercise power or entitlement, thus women's spaces are always vulnerable to being thwarted and limited.
I even started an experiment regarding entitlement to space. I began to sit with my legs spread out as far as I could, actively occupying my seat and half of each adjacent seat. As the train became more crowded, both men and women asked me to move my legs. However, the men who were also seated as I was were never bothered. What does this tell you? Women are not expected to take up space with their bodies--and they can be corrected when they do take up more room than they are expected to.
While some feminists may take the stance that women should fight for as much space as men take up, I wish to do the opposite. I would like to minimize the space all of us occupy. This idea extends to other aspects of life as well--don't consume more than you have to, stop producing trash so that we do not occupy more land, end globalization and the unwelcome interference of foreign nations--the list goes on.
What I have also come to realize is the assertion I feel comfortable with when trying to reclaim my space. In the above example where I was already sitting and the guy next to me spread his legs further and further apart forcing me to have less space to sit in, it would seem obvious for me to say, "Excuse me, but you are taking up my seat." However, this feels rude. It feels rude (and bitchy, as most assertive women are coined to be) to draw attention to another's lack of social grace. Yet, when a country invades another, it is not considered to be rude to fight back, but a sign of gumption, pride and ownership. Why, then, did I not feel the same way about an invasion into my personal space?
Oh, that's right, because I've been cultured not to. I can be irritated or even feel slighted, but get political? Isn't that taking it to the extreme? After all, it is just a seat. However, it is not just a seat. It's the very idea that I should not receive the rights to space as much as men, and that people in this country, in general, feel entitled to space that is not theirs.
I am reclaiming my space. I am making it part of my daily routine to tell men on the train to put their legs together and stop occupying unneeded space. After all, I shouldn't have to carve out a room of my own--I should be able to utilize the room that has already been reserved for me.
Unfortunately for me, my fight for space is not an academic, theoretical space, but actual physical space. Every day, I have to fight for a seat on the subway. I know, it's just a seat. After all, it's not as if I have to fight for land or natural resources. However, it is still a space that I have a fight for.
Every morning on the train I see the same thing: seat after seat after seat of men sitting with their legs spread apart, sometimes taking up to three seats with their body. Essentially their body language is saying this: this train is MY space. Mine! I have complete disregard for the fact that the train is overcrowded and some people were not able to get onto the train because I am taking up the space of two additional people. I don't care about them and I don't care about you--this is mine.
There have actually been times when I am already sitting and a guy sits next to me, only to spread his legs further and further apart, literally forcing me to sit in a more narrow space. At first I thought men might just be trying to hit on me. Then I came to realize that it was not a method of touching my body, but the idea that they felt entitled to the space. The space I was sitting in was not mine--it belonged to them.
It is such a patriarchal notion to think you are entitled to space. When I mean patriarchal, I mean a system that has cultured men and women to behave in certain ways that are deemed just or proper for their gender. Although I have seen a few women take up space with their bodies on the subway, the majority has been men. However, the big difference is that as the train becomes more crowded, it is the women on the train who move their bodies to accommodate for more space. Men rarely feel the need to move. This observation is why I categorize the act of entitlement to space as patriarchal--it has nothing to do with what men and women do, but how men and women do things differently because of how they have been cultured to act. Women, as a whole, are not conditioned to exercise power or entitlement, thus women's spaces are always vulnerable to being thwarted and limited.
I even started an experiment regarding entitlement to space. I began to sit with my legs spread out as far as I could, actively occupying my seat and half of each adjacent seat. As the train became more crowded, both men and women asked me to move my legs. However, the men who were also seated as I was were never bothered. What does this tell you? Women are not expected to take up space with their bodies--and they can be corrected when they do take up more room than they are expected to.
While some feminists may take the stance that women should fight for as much space as men take up, I wish to do the opposite. I would like to minimize the space all of us occupy. This idea extends to other aspects of life as well--don't consume more than you have to, stop producing trash so that we do not occupy more land, end globalization and the unwelcome interference of foreign nations--the list goes on.
What I have also come to realize is the assertion I feel comfortable with when trying to reclaim my space. In the above example where I was already sitting and the guy next to me spread his legs further and further apart forcing me to have less space to sit in, it would seem obvious for me to say, "Excuse me, but you are taking up my seat." However, this feels rude. It feels rude (and bitchy, as most assertive women are coined to be) to draw attention to another's lack of social grace. Yet, when a country invades another, it is not considered to be rude to fight back, but a sign of gumption, pride and ownership. Why, then, did I not feel the same way about an invasion into my personal space?
Oh, that's right, because I've been cultured not to. I can be irritated or even feel slighted, but get political? Isn't that taking it to the extreme? After all, it is just a seat. However, it is not just a seat. It's the very idea that I should not receive the rights to space as much as men, and that people in this country, in general, feel entitled to space that is not theirs.
I am reclaiming my space. I am making it part of my daily routine to tell men on the train to put their legs together and stop occupying unneeded space. After all, I shouldn't have to carve out a room of my own--I should be able to utilize the room that has already been reserved for me.
On the contrary, I think that when invaded countries fight back the powers that be find it to be most unpolite. Compare a map of Israel/Palestine ten years ago to one today; you'll find that somehow Israel takes up more and more space. Still, wouldn't we just prefer all those Palestinians to cross their legs, smile politely and squeeze just a little further into the corner? It seems so.
Well now obviously the people whose indiscretions are highlighted would feel offended. Being in the right, however, also has to do with how a reasonable person would also reflect on the situation. Many countries around the world have pointed out what you have about Israel. But if women around NYC started to soapbox about men taking up more room than they had to, I doubt that a majority of people would feel sympathy for them. (Or if they did, it would turn into flawed reasoning such as women needing help to get seats rather than people consuming too much space).
That being said, I do apologize for my turning my analogy into a hyperbole.