September 13,1977
Tokenism and a Female Hardhat
First of a Two-Part Series
BY PAT STABLER
"Ah," I might hear you
say, "she cracked through the
sex barrier and worked in that
bastian of male segregation,
the blue collar job. Congrat
ulations to her for helping
to break that down."
This kind of simplified
reaction is typical of many
people's response to my ten
and a half weeks of working
with an all male road
maintenance crew. In fact,
it probably would have
expressed my sentiments at
the beginning of the summer,
but the job served to complete
ly change my perspectives on
this subject which will comprise
my next article.
Several weeks ago, I saw an
episode of Kojak in which
Angie Dickenson played a
police officer who was
temporarily to homicide in
order to follow through on a
rape case that had developed
murderous qualities. The
woman's desire for acceptance
and respect both as a person
and an officer consumed most
of the air time. She was
successfully defensive,
angry, pleading and finally
astonished and dazed as she
was carried off the battle
field of a New York City park
in the arms of Kojak. I am not
interested in analyzing her role
and its degrading and revo
lutionary importance, but on
the intense focus made on the
subject of her being a women
in her position. This corres
ponded exactly with my
recent summer work experi
ence.
Due to a fairly egalitarian
up-bringing, I had always seen
myself as an individual with
my sexuality integrated into
that person. But, like
Dickenson's character in the
This is for the benefit of
those who could not, would
not, or forgot to come
to the Bryan Dorm meeting
the night of September 5
at 9 p.m. At any rate
members of Bryan Dorm, the
Dana Houses, and some
Fraziers met in Bryan Lounge
for nearly 45 minutes. Bob
White began the meeting by
introducing Kathy Smith, the
new co-ordinator of Bryan.
Bob White quickly got
down to the business at hand
by discussing a new
policy on dorm damage. It
seems that all the furniture in
predominately male work
environment, I was forced
continually to be aware of my
being a woman which involved
insulting connotations and
expectations that I had always
avoided before. The actual
tasks were primarily menial
in nature, mowing, shovel
ing dirt and picking up trash,
though often exhausting
I performed them adequately.
Even so, I was constantly
aware of a situation where I
was alternately and contra
dictorialy something to be
taken care of and appreciated,
something of contempt. The
crew became, for me, an
emotionally draining war
into which I would enter
enemy territory every morning.
I was treated judiciously by
the superintendent, yet
always engaged in combat
with myself or the others over
the rights and restrictions
which the men and I had set
up governing my behavior.
The original reaction of
the crew was mostly indiffer
ence. This indifference is the
normal treatment of new
comers to the rigidly hier
archial social structure.
Nevertheless, as I determinedly
interacted with the men in an
effort to befriend them, I
found myself behaving and
feeling far differently than
I had expected.
In some sociological
literature I have read, tokenism
has been observed to force
the "token" to take on differ
ing stereotyped attributes in a
desire for acceptance. A male
nurse would tend to perform
the heavier, "dirtier" tasks,
while a female professor may
find herself "mothering"
her department. Similarly, I
would do and say things
that were typically female,
even while having some sort
Bryan Rolling Along
the suites have been marked
this year witn tnat suite's
number. It is hoped that this
will eliminate "borrowing"
another suite's furniture when
yours is missing. If you do
happen to "lose" a piece of
furniture, you may be charged
for it if you don't notify your
intern that it is missing. And,
if furniture from other suite's
is found in yours, you may find
yourself reporting before the
Guilford County Judicial Court
for theft.
Then, while wearing a Pabst
Blue Ribbon T-shirt, Bob
White begn to explain what
he termed the "high spots"
The Guilfordian
of vague mission of enlighten
ment as to freedom in sex
roles. I was hesitant in
attempting jobs I was not sure
I could perform, and often
deferred to the men. I found
it easy to give up jobs when
they got too difficult, and
in less tangible ways tried to
be sure that my sexuality was
carefully identified. I was an
outsider nonetheless.
By the last week of the
job, we had set down patterns
of behavior that were workable,
but I realized that becoming
a real member of the group
would have taken a great deal
of time.
A token, such as myself,
coming into a segregated
work situation is in a vulnera
ble and frightening position.
We are all used to acceptance
and comraderie from fellow
employees, and the token
must find some mode of
behavior that will engender
that. In the process, certain
issues, such as sexuality and
racism, will have to be dealt
with, and the final workable
pattern will often leave the
token emotionally exhausted
from walking a tight-rope
of inconsistencies. I believe
very strongly that jobs
should be open to any
qualified candidate. Tokenism
will not cause sufficient
changes in attitutdes and
prejudices to aid that end.
It will fail by the co-workers
seeing the token either as an
example of the rule (i.e. the
token has taken on a "tradi
tional" mode of behavior) or
as an exception (the token has
attempted some other
behavior) that merely proves
the rule.
(Next week - Blue collar
workers: Are they so different,
and if so, why?)
of the new alcohol policy.
This entailed a reiteration of
the policy as it appeared in
the Guilfordian two weeks ago
with a question and answer
session.. White said that he is
interested "in the spirit of the
law, not the letter" and is
concerned with blatant
transgressions. The times
one would be written up are
when there are "flagrant vio
lations." The penalty for a
violation would depend on
the person's cumulative
offense record and would
vary from a reprimand to a
dismissal.
Column
I had planned to tell you something about Ma and Pa's
trip to the big city Greensboro. What I didn't know,
though, was that, on their mule-ride from Climax, Mississippi,
they'd get stuck in the mud. I also didn't know t hat my
apartment would flood. Whoa, Noah!
Well, when I got home from my Esperanto class, I found
books floating out of my bedroom my cats building a raft, and
my own version of a water-bed a water-soaked mattress.
After bailing, I pondered the situation and reminisced about
a time when I had actually prayed for rain. What peril had
unfortunately descended on one so foolish as I? Was it a
punishment for missing my first two weightlifting classes? Or
for drinking Red, White, and Blue beer, and I use the term
loosely. Anyway, my rubbers came in handy, since the carpet
was puddled from wall to wall.
I added up the damages from my water-logged abode and
realized that, if I stretched it a bit, I could come up with
five or six months' rent. It might just turn into a money
making venture.
Friday night, I visited Pammy Jo. Oh, yeah, she's moved to
third floor Binford. Maybe she will liven it up. She was telling
me, while we were walking to the tut-tut-Pizza Hut, that
Bertie Lou, up there on three, was thinking of starting a Campus
Association of Garden Clubbers. In fact, after they write a
constitution, they plan to petition the community senate for
S2OO for seed money. Bertie's working on some new rose
hybrid, akin to the Peace Rose, but Binford style. I think she's
been sitting on too many thorns in the Milner flower garden.
When Bertie Lou gets going, she'll turn Guilford into a garden
of earthly delights, not meaning obvious pleasures of course.
We'll be in a better position to tell once her flower makes
its debut.
As for any day student readers, be sure to follow senate
elections. In case you are interested, day student senators are
still needed.
I gues it's time to close. "Mary Hartman, Mary Hartman" is
calling. Perhaps, next week, we'll explore the hot issue: "when
are the day students going to the Old Rebel Show?"
Big Col
Coming soon: How I lost on a yes/no ballot.
Biophiles Bag It
An average college club
does not usually schedule
any activities for earlier than
noon on a Saturday morning,
due to the sleeping habits
of their members. In this
respect, the Biophile Club
broke stride September
10 and began their semi
annual Guilford College Lake
cleanup at ten in the morning.
Though hampered by webs
of spiders and sleep, the
dedicated members dutifully
trudged around the perimeter
of the lake, collecting litter
from the water's edge to the
center of the woods. Approx
imately twenty members and
friends, led by president
Charles Haworth and moder
ator Dr. Fulcher, participated
in the cleanup.
Using plastic bags supplied
by the Maintenance Depart
ment, the group followed
trails and paths which they
were definitely not the first to
discover. While beer cans and
bottles were by far the most
common item, several people
attempted to attain the
unoffered prize for "The
Strangest Discard." Ward-
Page 5
BY BRIAN CAREY
robes were increased with
several pairs of shorts and
underclothing (Custer's
Last Stand?); kitchens were
outfitted with an old blender
and beaters; and several
recreation rooms were furnish
ed with records, cushions, and
golf and tennis balls.
By 11:30, the club had
completed the circuit.
Although the previous days'
deluges had succeeded in
making some of the trash in
accessible, twenty-five
bags had been filled with a
variety of garbage, including
the remnants of several
good parties.
Afterwards, the club
discussed their next outing for
the following Saturday while
relaxing with punch and
cookies. This trip will be
to Hanging Rock Park and will
include a picnic and general
recreation.
With this final item of
business out of the way, the
group went their separate
ways: Dr. Fulcher, to deposit
the full bags; Charles, to find
another dirty lake; and the
rest, back to bed.