Progress?

A few years ago when my children were in reception and year one at primary school respectively, a new head was being interviewed for the available post.  It is a small, friendly school and I suspected they would have a good selection of candidates to choose from - and so it proved to be.  Once the candidates were whittled down to two, the parents were invited to an open presentation where these two presented their ideas for the school’s further development.  Both were excellent (a male and female candidate) and I found myself slightly more in favour of the female, who I felt communicated a little more clearly and talked about some issues which were closer to my heart (namely environmental initiatives).  Once the presentations had been made I had a quick wander round the room, chatting to parents about who their preferences were.  The reaction absolutely astonished me.  The anti-female sentiment spat out - admittedly not from all - but in a manner which I thought was utterly without justification.  Realising very quickly that my preference was doomed, I didn’t challenge (which I regret) and accepted that she wasn’t going to get the job.  I have no doubt she would have continued on to another good post, and didn’t give it much further thought.  But here’s the thing; the people that expressed their dislike were women.  There were hardly any men there anyway, but that wasn’t the point; here was a professional, polished candidate who had done nothing but provide an excellent speech and she seemed to be reviled for it.  To this day, I can’t work out what she actually did wrong and I have never forgotten it.  So what is the point of this little anecdote?  Sadly it is the following; that not all misogynists are male, that if women are disliked this is expressed vociferously and felt ferociously, and that there is a far higher price to pay for any perceived wrong doing.  

Misogyny in both sexes isn’t a new discovery; various observers have written about it at length - but the light bulb moment for me was the sheer, glaring, unashamed audaciousness of it.  Obviously I had been aware of prejudice all my life - from as young as four I had been told to smile more and felt a perplexed sense of injustice about it - I couldn’t see that I had done anything wrong when I didn’t feel like smiling.  There had been numerous bewildering things I wasn’t allowed to do; play cricket, football or rugby (unless providing useful cannon fodder for my brothers), metalwork, woodwork, and serving at mass.  But I didn’t mind the alternatives (cooking, sewing and netball) so shrugged and assumed that was just the way the world worked.  Later I discovered people made ridiculous assumptions about women in music (see the ‘Jazz Wives’ post), but mostly prejudices were ignorant rather than cruel, puzzled rather than harsh, and amused rather than sneering.  But at the time of the above incident - over thirty years later, I thought the world had changed.  I had been working as a teacher, percussionist and conductor for a long time and simply assumed that meritocracy and visibility were gradually gaining ground.  I wasn’t foolish enough to think that the work was done yet, but there was definitely forward motion.  So hearing such undeserved and uninhibited criticism had the effect of making me feel of all things - guilty.  I suddenly started to reflect on all of the bitchy observations about women I had witnessed and said nothing and felt a profound sense of sadness.  I’m not suggesting no women deserve criticism - that would be patently ridiculous, but bloody hell are they made to pay for mistakes.  Countless times I have witnessed male colleagues behaving inappropriately or even outrageously.  Conversations follow thus; ‘yeh - he’s a bit of a wanker, but he didn’t really mean it/didn’t know he was doing it/made an honest mistake.  Underneath it he’s a good bloke really.’  And for women?  ‘That fucking bitch.’  A man who doesn’t smile much, is organised, clear and firm, is a good leader and efficient.  An equivalent woman is harsh, abrasive, nasty.  It is so obviously unfair, and so, so visible.  So why are women complicit in some of this injustice?  Where is it coming from?   

Misogyny - like any prejudice - has complicated origins and doesn’t always spread in a predictable manner.  I think most of us would love it to be simple, because then it would be easier to deal with.  In the supposed civilised West however we are brought up with multiple, conflicting expectations and images.  It doesn’t take much to confuse - and this confusion starts at birth.  I remember, with a prickle of shame all of the times I have laughed along with women-hating, mocking jokes as a child, worse still as a student.  I remember the times I have watched men behave atrociously and said nothing.  Most of the time I can’t even pretend I was fearful - just passive, blinkingly frozen and persuading myself that this was harmless banter.  More recently, I have told myself that - for my age at least - it’s all over now.  It’s the twenty first century, I’m middle aged, surely my experience and our modern times mean that I’m not going to witness unfair scrutiny and tougher rules for women?  Many of you may be laughing at my naivety at this point, but yes - it’s been a long time since I was a child and change has been significantly slower than I imagined…what a disorientated bunch our species are.  

There is a lot of comment about disorientated and conflicted young men at the moment, but not enough about confused young women.  Or confused older women for that matter.  Right now feels like a dangerous point; the current political narrative, power and wealth is mostly being controlled by fantasist, often disgusting men.  In plain sight, more is being taken from the most vulnerable, with a recent Oxfam report showing that the richest billionaires own as many assets as the 3.8 billion people who make up the poorer half of the planet’s population.  We need to be watchful.  I’m not going to raise profiles any further by naming names, but we still have the spirit to wrest back control - provided we continue to empower and educate our kids and remind ourselves (as Sister Wendy used to say - look her up) - that the only real sin is cruelty.  I continue to live in hope.

Uplifting music of the day: Feeling somewhat grumpy that my kids have been messing with my CDs and records recently, I am at least quietly pleased that they have been listening to - and downloading them.  I’m therefore naming something that they have been checking out, which is ‘So What’ from the ground breaking and brilliant Miles Davis album ‘Kind of Blue.’  This beautiful sound world marked the beginning of something new and deep - and I still can’t believe it was recorded in 1959.*

Contemplative music of the day: The Intermezzo ‘My Bonny Boy’ from Vaughan Williams Folk Song Suite.  In truth, I have just been conducting this, so it is fresh on my mind.  But like all great compositions, I hear more in it every time I listen to it.

* My lovely friend Liz Walden, who is a great thinker and writer - has just pointed out my absolute clunker here - of not actually mentioning a female musician.  Doh!  So I am mentioning Cleo Laine and her interpretation of ‘Lady Be Good’ - composed by George and Ira Gershwin.  She is important on so many levels; a prominent, respected black British jazz musician with a properly individual and idiosyncratic voice.  She died in July this year and it was remiss of me not to mention her under any circumstances…  In my life she is profound because she was the first jazz singer who’s name I actually knew.  My parents were both Radio 2 listeners, so I had certainly heard Peggy Lee, Ella and so forth.  But I didn’t know who they were.  My Mum pointed out Cleo on probably The Two Ronnies, explaining the unique qualities and range of her voice.  I am grateful for that - and have since progressed to listening to her daughter - Jackie.