On Geniuses and Doormen.

I have had some great female friends in my life so far. In fact, I’ve had several incredible female friends, all of whom were and are brilliant, enigmatic thinkers. We’ve formed groups of young women with big hopes and dreams who want to do things to change the world. Here are some examples: one wants work in international policy and politics, another as a historian, another in psychology or neuroscience or philosophy. I want to go into medicine and science research. We have wonderful, lively conversations about our passions. And then in groups or pairs over cups of tea or Google Hangouts we lament the fact that we’re women in this world.

You see, if we were a group of men, we would have very different reputations. If we were men, we wouldn’t be “smart;” we’d be intellectual. Instead of being “introverted” and “awkward” and “kind of antisocial,” we would be labeled quiet and observant, so much so that our separation from the rest of society couldn’t possibly be arrogance, but rather a result of our spectacular intellect. And instead of being cast on the fringes, we would be revered – because while women can be smart and hard-working and productive in society’s eyes, it’s men who are geniuses.

My eighth grade science teacher once told me, “If this science thing doesn’t work out for you, you should consider becoming a professional door holder,” because I tried to be nice and hold the door open for my classmates. I have been “the smart girl” my whole life. I’ve received teacher feedback for years praising the work I do: correct answers to problems, “tour de force” presentations, concise essays. Never once have I received praise for the thinking behind that work.

I have a female friend who has felt like she had the inverse experience. She got lots of praise on her brilliant thinking, on her intelligence, but very little on the work itself. She’s been called a genius several times by our teachers – but always in private, discreetly, because God forbid she have that become her actual reputation.

There is a stereotypical model of intellectualism for men which doesn’t exist for women. As that same friend wrote to me, “There is a model for guys to be the really genius, observant, detached character… But there isn’t one for girls. Guys play into this genius loner thing, and praise other guys when they fit that… A girl could say the same thing, and NO ONE would praise her. Part of it is the arrogant, verbose and confident way of phrasing that those types of guys have; the other is the inherent sexism in intelligence.”

This is the Media Studies blog, after all, so let’s use some examples from the media: Sherlock Holmes. John Oliver. Anderson Cooper. Harry Potter. Henry Marsh, the one neurosurgeon in the media lately, who is an arrogant arse. And let’s go a little more in depth with the one television show I watch: HOUSE. The main character is Doctor Greg House, who fits this model perfectly – a quiet, observant, overconfident guy who gets away with most everything because he has revelatory medical ideas that save lives. The women on his team are considered lesser doctors because the first has emotions and cares about ethics and patients’ well-being (wow! shocker!) and the second is less competent because the show’s editors assigned her a genetic disorder that will end her life in a couple of years. The men on his team on the other hand “just don’t know enough” or “sometimes have bad ideas” or “are too power-hungry.” Mmmhhmm. Sure.

It’s not that girls aren’t drawn to the genius model – we are. Sometimes more urgently than the guys around us because it’s elusive and unavailable. We aim for it, and sometimes even reach it in our personal lives, but do we receive the attention and reputation that goes along with it? No way. Eventually this turns harmful to self-esteem. We internalize what society’s been shoving in our faces all these years – sure, you’re smart for a girl – and that becomes negative self-talk. Instead of praising ourselves for the 97 or 99% we get right on a test, we beat ourselves up over the 1 or 3% we messed up. And then we beat ourselves up for beating ourselves up, because we know that our male counterparts with the same scores (if there are any) are not doing the same thing. We apologize excessively because we lack the arrogant overconfidence in our ideas that lets guys say things without thinking twice. When in conversations with men who aim to fit the genius model, we don’t talk, we just listen, even when we know much more than they do such that what they’re saying is BS.

Women lack mobility in the intellectual realm. And if this path continues, the world might lose that future politician, historian, philosopher. And who knows, I might even decide that becoming a professional door(wo)man is right for me.