Getting rid of the ‘Mean Girls’ sentiment
By Megan Kenslea
On a recent Saturday night of drinks and conversation with friends, a female acquaintance emphatically declared, “I hate girls.” In a group of about seven college males and females, the comment went practically unnoticed. Yet, the next morning I woke up angry.
Girls who hate girls seem, unfortunately, to be the norm these days. Pop culture – from shows like Gossip Girl to popular young adult series like The Clique – glamorizes and emphasizes the often cold and calculating “girl world.” Psychologists have done endless research on interpersonal relationships among females at all ages. One such book, Queen Bees and Wannabes, by Rosalind Wiseman, was even adapted into the 2004 box office smash “Mean Girls.”
For some reason, though, my friend’s comment struck a nerve. I couldn’t pinpoint exactly why – especially because the same phrase was one that I myself touted often in high school.
By the end of middle school I had dealt with more than my share of girl drama – bcc’d emails, three-way call attacks, ditching friends on the way to school – they type of petty, small conflicts that so often tear and eat away at a girl’s self-esteem. I wasn’t entirely innocent, but by my freshman year of high school, I needed to get away. I retreated into a bubble – partially of my own creation, partially a result of ostracization by my social-climbing former BFF.
When I finally decided to branch out from my self-contained world a year later, it was my male classmates, not female classmates, whom I befriended. And I began to dismiss my lack of female friends to my mother with that very same phrase – “I really just hate girls.”
Now, though, I was smarting, even if I recognized my own hypocrisy. I took the comment as a personal insult.
But why the change?
Part of it is that I have made some incredible female friends since coming to college. Supportive, intelligent, friendly women who will help their friends with no ulterior motives. My college friendships are a far cry from the few competitive, aggressive friendships I had with girls in high school.
I also began to educate myself, seriously, on women’s rights worldwide. Worrying about which parties you weren’t invited to seems a lot more trivial when viewed alongside female genital mutilation in parts of Africa or female infanticide in parts of Asia.
My mother, a stay at home mom for most of her adult life (and a women who, admittedly did not vote for Hilary Clinton in 2008 solely because she “just didn’t like her very much”) was amused at my sudden and strong feminist tendencies. My dad, who has been pushing me towards strong female role models practically since my conception, was overjoyed.
Mostly, though, I began to realize that by letting a few bad experiences in middle school define my perception of my entire gender, I was just as bad as the rest of them.
Around the same time my friend made her comment, Bristol University student Rosslyn McNair wrote a blog on the very subject for the Huffington Post. McNair argued that in today’s society, where women can have it all, “there is unavoidably going to be competition and a degree of jealousy towards women who are seemingly swimming a little better against the tide of obstacles that stop women from achieving this existence.” Instead of being impressed with and respecting the beautiful, successful, intelligent woman next door, we react negatively.
McNair hit the nail on the head, I think. After my mother’s generation fought so hard for Title IX, after my aunts battled old, sexist partners at law firms, young women today are facing a new problem. Too many of us are smart, successful, intelligent, and above average, that we find ourselves competing fiercely amongst ourselves for our dream internship, a spot at an Ivy League college or a prestigious scholarship. Long gone is the battle of our mothers’ generation just to get a foot in the door of the old boys club. Today’s battles are just as hard, but this time, they are against each other.
In a keynote speech, Madeleine Albright, the first female Secretary of State in the U.S., said “there is a special place in hell for women who don’t help other women.” There are many successful women out there who do extend a hand to help, promote and encourage other women. Yet, every day, I see just the opposite.
Some of it is the pressure. When I was a junior in high school at Newton North High School in Newton, Massachusetts, several senior girls were the subject of a New York Times feature about high-achieving girls titled “For Girls, It’s Be Yourself, and Be Perfect, Too.”
The author, Sara Rimer, made a point similar to McNair’s. For girls today, Rimer wrote, “If you are free to be everything, you are also expected to be everything.”
My mother, who now works in admissions at a competitive private high school in Massachusetts, has told me that every year, the school has to reject more and more qualified girls. When they turn to the waitlist, they look for certain demographics, not necessarily skill and qualifications, to fill empty spots. And that means that a lot of girls miss out.
This unfortunate truth has fomented into an underlying thought that other women are “a threat to the harmony of our own lives,” as McNair said.
I’m tired of hearing that girls hate other girls, though. That feminism is “annoying.” Today’s generation of women can be as impressive as our mothers’ generation, but only if we stop bringing each other down and start pulling each other up.