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I have come to believe that so-called chivalrous acts, such as letting women exit elevators before men and opening doors for women, are actually institutionalized forms of control. A man, stranger no less, designating when you--a woman--should or should not enter a building or exit a subway car is akin to allowing a boy in the alley to determine your outcome. (Of course! Two extremes on the same continuum...) A woman's genteel passivity when offered an act of chivalry merely reinforces men's feeling of domination and superiority. "Let's allow the little lady on the bus first, we must protect and coddle her" or "If I don't open the door for her, she'll be helpless and left outside." Bogus, huh? I agree. As soon as we women give 'em one inch, they'll wanna force six of 'em into us. The little unspoken agreements/negotiations of door-opening and "ladies first-isms" provoke, I believe, an unconscious (and maybe sometimes conscious) feeling of debt by you, the woman, to a completely unknown stranger. After a few dozen years of opening doors for you, a man must come to expect some return on his musculature. How can this not be? So, perhaps you're thinking, "Come on, are you suggesting that male chivalry causes men to assault women?" Well, perhaps not so overtly. But at the very least, there's a possibility of resentment and condescension that can ensue from this societal behavior. And now, that you're pressing me, I must tell you that I have deliberately refused male chivalry and met with some interesting reactions. I used to ride the little subway car in Fort Worth every morning whil I was in high school. Several times I set out to do a little sociological experimentation. Standing near the entranceway to the car--but not so I was obstructing passage in or out of it--I was actually pushed (that means foreign hands applying man-pressure on my body) towards the door by a guy who insisted that I exit the car before he did. After recovering from his apoplectic outburst, he seemed embarassed, and definitely confused. [When the rat figures out the maze and refuses to scamper the gullies, does the scientist sit down and cry?] I, refusing to be no rat--not even for cheesey science--usually smile and suggest, "does it really matter who goes first?" And now, to really confuse you, let's move on to the exceptions. A) When I am carrying two bags of firewood, a can of lighter fluid, and anything by Camille Paglia, yes, you--you over there are definitely welcome to do me a human (not man over woman, not demeaning, not power-brokering) favor by opening the fucking door, already.
And B) if you are a man-buddy of mine, just-so happening to do the gentle
surprise of letting me pass before you, that to me, feels like positive
regard
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