A fighter of gender stereotypes
Author was accepted to Dartmouth University
Growing up, I took no interest in Barbie dolls. Instead, I would strut about with my beloved remote-control cars and transformer toys, jump up and down on the sofa with other boys, and roar like Mufasa on all fours in the kindergarten playground until concerned adults would chide, “How can a girl be as naughty as boys?” Yet my coming of age witnessed my steadfast rebellion against such social dos and don’ts. Why couldn’t a girl be like boys?
Soccer was my first step to fight such stereotypes. It was almost like a ritual for me during the European Champion Club’s Cup to wake at three am and watch the game in the freezing February winter. As I enthusiastically started a discussion about the game with the boys in my class the next day, however, I received no more than their taunts. “Girls know nothing about soccer. You can’t even play soccer!” Trying to prove them wrong, I started to join my dad’s weekly games at the amateur club, juggling, scoring a spinning goal, mastering every new trick, and enduring the subtropical humidity. As I finally earned my place on the school soccer field, I became the only girl warming up in a group of boys before a match. No one could help but stare at the only flapping ponytail on the field!
After conquering more physical arenas, I started to extend my exploration to another male-dominated field—competitive gaming. Yet prejudice emerged almost instantly: seeing my feminine avatar, other male players, in the worst-case scenarios, would immediately quit the game before it even started; when teaming with me, they would either be patronizing or blame me for every loss. Infuriated by their unfair stereotyping, I changed my username to a gender-neutral one. And as I tactically triumphed over my enemies, scoring aces and penta-kills and eventually leading my team to victory, I would then reveal my identity as a girl. Seeing their astonishment, I gained an unprecedented sense of accomplishment.
Yet, my supposed invincibility in both physical and intellectual domains was soon faced with an insurmountable challenge – cooking. As someone who despised all feminine traits for years, my hands were tied in the kitchen. The chiffon cake that was supposed to puff high and fluffy turned out as thin and solid like pancake; the sugar in the sweet and sour ribs became carbonized instead of caramelized. Hearing of my woes, my friends advised me to simply give up. “Arwen, just accept the fact that girly is not your thing.”
Having been a fighter of gender stereotypes for years, I ironically became another stereotype in people’s eyes. Is femininity something I should break away from? Is embodying masculinity the only way of proving myself? I itched for an answer, and mastering cooking seemed to be my very first step. Consuming dozens of charred chiffon cake and scraping dozens of burnt woks, I painstakingly endeavored to develop my culinary talents. When I finally brought the fluffiest chiffon cake to my friends, I once again received the expected look of shock – yet this time, I aimed not at proving them wrong, but at proving myself capable of putting on any identity I desired.
One’s character goes far beyond the limited factors defined under male and female. Every Saturday, I would start with a drenching yet fulfilling soccer practice; in the afternoons, I would devote myself to playing DotA with my friends; around dusk, I would remove the marinated beef from the refrigerator to prepare a big dinner for the family. Now, I have found an answer for my rebellion: to go beyond the troubling two-dimensional definition of an individual and to embrace the undeniable fluidness of identity.
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