“SHUT UP, YOU COCKY GIRL!”

Tempo di lettura: 11 minuti

This is one of the most used expressions, one of the many predictable during discussions or conversations in which we simply assume an opposite – and often reasonable – position to our interlocutor. It is that particular form of aggressiveness that aims to devalue the speaker, linked by a close relationship to mansplaining, patriarchal explaining, “feministology”, paternalism, in other words, all those behaviors which aim to put us in our place, in the role of eternal little girls to be trained, who must necessarily have someone to hold our hand and show us the way to live the life we were meant to live. If we decide not to let them hold our hands, if we question the life lessons given to us by the whole world, if we take a position with self-confidence and competence, sometimes the world gets angry and must necessarily attack our every absurd claim of self-determination, we must be stopped, whatever it takes. If they could, they would use needle and thread to shut us up.

Recently, the apotheosis: there was a discussion on Facebook about the lack of approval of a bill in Italy that provides for the tightening of penalties against crimes and discrimination against homosexuals, transsexuals, women, and people with disabilities ( ZAN’S BILL), especially thanks to the negative campaign of radical and conservative right-wings. A person unknown to me, who unfortunately admitted to being a teacher, declared without any embarrassment to fight the introduction of the non-existent “gender theory” in schools: she was the champion of the traditional family who defends children from those who want them all gay! I pointed out that the “gender theory” does not exist and that the radical right-wings have fought the DDL in an unethical way and using fake news: after several embarrassing answers without any content, I was called an “cocky girl” by this person, who could not accept to be questioned, even though she did not argue to maintain a decent level of comparison. I shuddered at the idea of her in a classroom: I had experienced this kind of teacher and I am not surprised, but I am lucky enough to know others who give me hope for the future. When I pointed out to her that, although my age didn’t matter in that circumstance, I was a few years older than her, she claimed that this wasn’t possible, since she had a daughter and I didn’t. I leave to you the count of the stereotypes that can coexist in the mind of a single person…I interrupted the discussion because of embarrassment, I could not have fallen so deep.

How many other times have I heard this, with good or bad manners, and how many times I wondered “but how does this relate to what we are discussing?”. But I was wrong to think we were discussing… this is simply the expression of power of those who do not handle those of words, content, and ideas. Hints of hierarchical power relationships, acts of bullying, and grassroots discrimination.
It is a very rough and biting way to devalue a person because it is based on something that has nothing to do with the content of the discussion, it is a real form of bullying or mobbing.
However, it must be said that although I am not a young girl, I find it a praise to be called “cocky girl” knowing that this appellative masks the ignorance of those who use it, who do not digest the assertive attitude, therefore they need to give assertiveness a negative connotation. Not many years ago I also suffered the replacement of “authoritative” with “authoritarian” and “assertive” with “aggressive”: old games of manipulation borrowed from the well-established patriarchal culture, the same with which women who could question the social order were called “witches”: well, in my opinion then, the world needs assertive girls as much as witches, and I’m with them if they call them cocky, aggressive, authoritarian, bitchy.

For them not to be under power but to face it, for them not to have to undergo trials of their freedom, for no one to feel they can decide what they should or should not be.

For them not to reproduce the power dynamics that we have struggled so much against over the years, and to choose never to become inquisitors but to remain witches, is one of the most difficult coherence choices to make.

 

Among the several variables of the sentence “shut up, you cocky little girl!” I could test, regarding my assertive attitude, an ill-concealed hypocrite “why are you so self-defensive?” as a reaction to a request for an explanation in unclear circumstances, or “there’s no need to be so aggressive” in front of the transparency with which I expressed my disappointment, up to the angry “you always talk about yourself!”: this is one of the best – maybe one day I’ll get it tattooed! – because it’s exactly the manifestation of the grotesque effort to bring down a person who simply isn’t afraid to expose herself: so who should I talk about? The goal was always to disqualify a position without having the arguments, bringing out elements that hit sensitive targets such as self-esteem, relationship, self-perception, and commitment to building listening relationships. Whoever has a manipulative attitude aimed at marginalizing a person from a group, from a social, political, or work context, uses different strategies that have in common that single ridiculous statement declined to infinity “Shut up, cocky girl!”. A person who practices self-criticism as an element of growth can be damaged to the core by such a subtle and continuous questioning of their values. So I took some time to remind myself that “arrogance and aggressiveness” were my assertiveness, that “always talking about me” was starting from me as in any good feminist relationship practice, which has nothing to do with egocentrism and narcissism. A time that was as painful as it was constructive, and at times – briefly – even hilarious. Over time I realized that those who addressed me were talking about themselves, and felt a certain discomfort for the fact that I have no problem showing who I am, or what I think.
But there is another spoken expression of ephemeral power, which hides a substantial inability to admit one’s limits or simply to consider the existence of other forms of life on this earth, beyond their own…it is the evergreen and unfailing “you have a long way to go! “also used to put people in a corner, waiting for the illuminated wisemen to give them a seat in the group of those who have come a long way, and have also prepared it for those who come after: aw, indomitable warriors, heritage of humanity, who choose to sacrifice themselves as indicators of the right path for those who do not know what they do or say!
By dint of being told, first because I was too young, then because I was too “cocky”, then because I was ” not enough” a lot of other things, I began to read clearly the insecurity of those who pronounce these words. Just ask them to explain to us exactly what road we still have to go down, and exactly how far down the road we would have a pass to be able to have ideas, a culture, and freedom of choice. Let’s grab a popcorn bucket, and enjoy the staging of paternalism, it won’t be any other way.

At one moment – not just any moment, but exactly one – I started walking, I hold my hand, and I imagined the place where I would like to be every day, far away from everything that generates nothing but pain, waste of time and energy, empty speeches and continuous manipulation of people and dynamics, cumbersome presences. My place is full of books and trinkets collected during my travels, memories, items left behind, comfortable armchairs, and soft pillows to sit on to get away from the rush, to listen to stories, to reflect, to tell stories, to look around the world, to welcome diversity as a gift for growth, to allow myself to be assertive, to enjoy the presence of those who enrich my life.
I visualized this space, I entered it with my imagination, I organized spaces and contents, selected topics, and visualized sharing paths. I imagined people as standing in front of the window, then coming in, having something to drink, and sitting down to receive the time as a gift and to donate time in a conscious way, with empathy, to give the world a small positive contribution in terms of change. A place of transition in which find a warm, ironic, and familiar atmosphere, where to collect different views on the world and donate mine.
Because if there’s anything I’ve experienced and survived despite its toxicity, it’s the hustle and bustle that so often are used to prove that we can achieve goals, but make it impossible for us to enjoy the journey we’ve made. If we stop for a moment, what we thought we couldn’t survive also takes a different look. Which one? I can’t give one answer that applies to all, but I hope you’ll stop here and look for it. For me, it is true what Anais Nin wrote: “Had I not created my whole world, I would certainly have died in other people’s. ”. And I didn’t want to die in the world of competition, which is humanly exhausting from every point of view, the one where every morning an individual gets up and knows he or she has to run faster and faster, without wondering where he or she is going and who he or she is running from.
I traveled a long way, and I will still do it with great motivation: I have always been shyly and silently curious when I was a child, I observed the adult world being supported by two parents who have put at the center of their lives the refusal of any prejudice and intolerance with great consistency and solidarity as a way of life. Therefore, I did not have to make great efforts to develop an awareness of the responsibility that each of us has towards the whole world, through small and big actions, in the universe of the defense of human rights I lived my daily life. In other words, I lived following what Desmond Tutu summarized in one of the most used quotes when talking about social justice: “If you are neutral in situations of injustice, you have chosen the side of the oppressor. If an elephant has its foot on the tail of a mouse, and you say that you are neutral, the mouse will not appreciate your neutrality.”
Neutrality has never belonged to me, I know very well that not being neutral requires a great commitment and also a price to pay on a social, political, relational level, up to the job one, but I can’t compare it with the gain I got from it in terms of self-awareness, growth, and self-determination.
Although coherence has always represented the North during my journey, I found myself sometimes going through the deviations caused by opportunism, lies for profit, manipulation, up to violence in its various devious forms. And it is difficult not to fall, not to stop, not to want to go back, not to want to adapt to a world made of continuous mediations, even when these take place on people’s skin. But if you have never known any other way, you don’t know where to look.
I thought I built, for a long period of my life, wonderful equipment for the climb to the highest peak of Mount Life: in my backpack many good purposes to share, an emergency kit in case of danger, a travel company that I believed composed of humanity, sisterhood, honesty and solidarity, and the necessity for a camp where anyone could feel comfortable in the pauses useful to regain energy. Several times along the way I had the feeling of being more like a sherpa than a traveling companion, but I never suspected I would wake up one fine day robbed of all my supplies, and left alone in the middle of the woods to continue the journey without any sustenance! I was afraid, I sought comfort, but it seemed that the whole world was passing by and was afraid to reach out to me, even to look me in the eye, so as not to have to take the side of the “arrogant little girl”.
I felt discouragement, resignation, and anger: I looked up to the top and I thought I could never reach it because they had robbed me of everything I had carefully prepared to get there, they had taken advantage of my need to share, of my energies, of my loyalty, of my frailty. I stopped in the woods, my energy ran out, and the sky became darker and darker. I was fixated on the black clouds, without thinking that they are transient, they do not stay there forever. I was short of breath, I could not take an extra step, I feared for my survival, certainly, this state of mind could not feed positive thoughts and events worthy of serenity.

One day I opened my eyes, and the sky was clear, around me the sounds of the woods were sounds of life and not of danger. I asked myself “why did I let all this happen?”: the answer, since that day, is always different, constantly evolving. But I got up and started to walk to the top, calmly, appreciating every detail and stopping to treasure it: I believe that those who have abandoned me in the woods have yet to arrive, maybe they have lost the path chasing false
promises of glory, and devoured my provisions too quickly, but from up here I can admire Life and say that every experience can only add, never subtract. And it also adds the ability to live every feeling without prejudice, be it of love or anger. Forgiveness is another thing and I do not aspire to be a white soul, so no, no forgiveness, but a healthy awareness and lucidity. I chose profitable temporary isolation, so I could regain possession of ancient habits and brush up on useful tools to put my life back together, overcome fears and then reappear to life with renewed awareness, the usual face of a bitch, the memory of those who were unfairly sent into a hellish circle but killed the Devil and came back.

Oh yeah, I still have a long way to go, but if you succeed, make sure I gave you permission to walk beside me.

http://https//youtu.be/Md8EesTaIsA