I Don't Want You to Make Me Feel Like I'm the Only Girl in the World

Rhianna might like that, but I've got news for you cat-callers - Females make up more than 50% of the population and, together, we accomplish an awful lot.  We bring the next generation into the world and, in nearly all cultures, we are responsible for raising and educating our offspring.  As if that's not enough responsibility, given the right opportunities, we make incredible contributions to the economy, to the sciences, and to government (just to name a few).  This is what makes us human.  This is what makes us goddesses.

The machismo that pervades Guatemala and many other parts of the world is about more than males thinking they are "better" than females; it is a failure to recognize the personhoods of women.  This makes for interesting academic papers and ideological debates, but it also shapes every moment of a woman's life in Guatemala.  (Of course "machismo" does not just exist in Guatemala, but it's all I can do to figure it out here and I don't want to simply generalize to other Latin American countries.  I would even argue that it exists to some extent in all countries, including the US, but to argue that would require the longest blog post in the world.)

Women are Guatemala's largest untapped resource.  Women are not expected to, or often even allowed to, contribute to Guatemala's formal economy.  Until about 15 years ago, it was a law in Guatemala that a woman had to have signed consent from her husband before starting work.  (Say WHATTT?)  Men allowing their wives to work is still viewed as a sign of "weakness" by many people in Guatemala, especially in the more rural areas where Peace Corps Volunteers work.  Without allowing and encouraging women to work and contribute to the workforce, it is going to be nearly impossible for Guatemala's economy to realize the magnitude of growth that is truly necessary in this country.  On a more micro level, only one working parent is rarely enough to raise healthy, educated children in Guatemala.

Don't get me wrong, there are women in Guatemala who do work.  My host mother works in the local health center.  A little more than half of teachers in my schools are women.  Many other women participate in a more informal way, by selling goods at the local market or out of their home.  Still, this is the anomaly and there doesn't seem to be a place for women in many professions where they could make important contributions.  Without any power in the Guatemalan economy or their family's economy, women have no decision-making power.

Because of this, machismo also has real consequences for the health of women in Guatemala.  Women everywhere face obstacles to receiving proper health care.  The common barriers to proper healthcare in many countries are are knowing the symptoms of illnesses, knowing where to go for help, and then having the resources to actually get to the help.  However, health workers in Guatemala talk about another obstacle - the husbands.  A woman typically has to be granted permission before seeking care for themselves or their children.  Because Guatemalan women rarely have realized economic value or even recognized value in the home, there is often no rush to get them the care that they need and deserve.

It shouldn't be surprising that the lack of understanding about the value of a woman also leads to security issues.  Guatemalan men who don't respect the value of a woman's individuality also do not respect their space.  The first time a town drunk came up to me and draped his hand over my shoulder, I wasn't really scared.  I was just angry.  I wanted to yell, "I HAVE A NICE MOTHER!  I KNOW ABOUT CELL MITOSIS!  I READ HISTORY BOOKS FOR FUN!"  I wanted to yell all of these things because his invasion of my space was a very obvious sign that he didn't know and didn't care about these things.  He saw me walking along the street and noticed nothing but the shell of my body and felt that he had a right to come over and touch it.  He didn't pause to think that the person inside the body may not want to be touched.

While I have had many "Ah hah!" moments about gender in Guatemala, I could spend the rest of my life here and I would never completely understand the experience of a Guatemalan woman.  My light skin prevents me from accomplishing that.  In the workplace, I find that my light skin can be beneficial.  Once I explain that I graduated university and am here to work, I generally get the respect needed to accomplish the work that I came here to do.  However, on the street my light skin can be a detriment.  Most Guatemalans know white women through music videos and movies, where the women are depicted as nothing more than soft porn stars.  We need to get some Eleanor Roosevelt and Hilary Clinton biopics playing down here.

The incessant cat-calling that I experience in the streets sometimes takes the form of a "chhh-chhh" sound that Guatemalans quite literally use to call cats.  Sometimes it takes the form of vulgar phrases in both English and Spanish.  It bothers me: it really does.  It hasn't gotten easier, but I really don't want it to ever be something that rolls off my back.  The problem is not my sensitivity; the problem is the lack of understanding for what women can contribute to our world and the failure to recognize that a feeling soul and a thinking mind lie within a woman's body.

Because these experiences have bothered me so much, I have spent a lot of time thinking about what I can do for the women of Guatemala.  The best I can hope for is that my independence plants a seed in some young girl's mind that lets her know that her life has value and purpose.  Will it work?  Who knows.  Is it enough?  Definitely not.  Machismo culture affects each women individually, but will not be changed until the collective power of our half of the population is valued and respected.  Moreover, it takes more than women realizing their value; their will be no change until men also recognize it.  We might be waiting a while for that.