Vulpix
08-13-2009, 11:48 PM
Why all women cheered raging Hillary Clinton (http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/article-1206189/Why-women-cheered-raging-Hillary-Clinton.html)
When U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton was asked in a press conference in Africa what her absent husband Bill thought of events, she froze. Then, her eyes slowly rolled ceilingwards.
'If you want my opinion, I'll give you my opinion,' she snapped. 'I'm not here to channel my husband.'
Around the world, women cheered. Some might have turned to their spouses or male colleagues and said 'I know how she feels' - only they probably wouldn't have been heard.
http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2009/08/13/article-1206189-0605DBBA000005DC-195_468x404.jpg
'I'm not here to channel my husband': Hillary Clinton gets annoyed at a press conference this week
Because, even today, after 20 years of feminism, the female voice is like one of those whistles only dogs can hear.
My friends and I call these infuriating incidents 'pine marten moments'. This dates from the time, a few years ago, when my husband Chris and I were on holiday with a group of friends and family in France.
Seated around a table in a rustic restaurant, one of the party noticed a stuffed animal peering beadily from a glass case and a lively discussion ensued.
'I wonder what that is?' said Chris. 'I think it might be a stoat,' said a male friend. 'No, it's a ferret of some sort,' ventured my brother-in-law.
'Actually, it's a pine marten,' I announced confidently.
'Hmm,' replied the friend. 'Wrong colour for a ferret.'
'That's because it's a pine marten,' I repeated.
'Really?' said yet another friend. 'Well, maybe it's a weasel of some kind.'
This debate about woodland fauna carried on over my head for five minutes until my husband quietly ventured
'Could it be a pine marten?', at which there was a roar of masculine agreement. 'Of course! A pine marten! Well done, mate!'
None of these very nice blokes would ever deliberately ignore a woman and all were mortified when they finally realised what they'd done, but that evening I was clearly suffering from invisible - and, indeed, inaudible - woman syndrome.
A friend once worked at a political think-tank where pine marten moments were the rule rather than the exception.
She recalls: 'In a meeting, a colleague put forward quite independently an entire proposal that I'd made. When I cornered him on it, he said faux-sheepishly that he thought if I put it forward "it would get ignored" because my suggestions always were.
'I was so gobsmacked, I didn't point out that perhaps he could have supported my opinions, not stolen them.'
Another friend was browsing for a new laptop while out shopping with her husband.
The computer was for her own use, paid for with her own honestly-earned cash, and she was just deciding between the blue and the red models when a spotty assistant appeared at her shoulder.
'Can I help you sir?' he asked, looking straight at her baffled spouse. 'I felt like hurling the laptop at his head,' she told me. 'Is it really so incomprehensible that a woman looking at a laptop might actually be the one buying it?'
In the 1990s, comedian Arabella Weir created the hilarious and disturbingly accurate character The Girl That Boys Can't Hear for The Fast Show.
http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2009/08/13/article-1206189-014E936E00000578-797_468x286.jpg
Unable to speak 'female': Women often feel their opinions go unheard when in business meetings with men
Apparently, the show's male creators Paul Whitehouse and Charlie Higson originally vetoed it.
It took fellow comedian Simon Pegg to point out that this was how Weir was often treated in script meetings before they relented.
The fact that male intervention was needed is perhaps even more infuriating than the reluctance to include the sketch.
Weir described working on the show as feeling 'very similar to what I fancy it's like being imprisoned in a lap-dancing club with a rugby team after they've downed 20 pints - not that much fun, even for a very un-girly girl'.
Right now, I'm in the process of renovating my house. It's a big job, involving plenty of plastering, plumbing and pulling down of walls. And, of course, this means dozens of tradesmen being in my house, most, apparently, unable to speak a word of 'female'.
Recently, two Polish plasterers redecorated my daughter's bedroom. I admit I'm pretty bossy. I like to organise things. Every time I tried to speak to them they would stare at me with blank incomprehension, then turn to my husband and say: 'Sorry? What do you want?'
Even he found it embarrassing. It's the same with carpenters and electricians. They are clearly thinking: 'For God's sake, where is this woman's husband?'
When Chris does hove into view, I see them let out a sigh of relief and become chatty, though I can assure you that my husband knows no more about the intricacies of drains than I do.
A few years ago, researchers at the University of Sheffield apparently came up with a scientific explanation for this. They discovered that poor simple men find women's voices 'more difficult' to listen to than other men's.
The study showed that men deciphered female voices using the part of the brain that processes music, while male voices engaged a simpler mechanism.
We, apparently, have too much 'melody' in our voices to be heard properly.
Frankly, I'm sceptical. First, men seem to have no problem listing to music. Indeed, in my experience, it is only men who can make out the lyrics to the music of, say, Iron Maiden or Radiohead.
Yet these same men mysteriously cannot help but shut off the minute a woman starts talking? I think not.
A more likely explanation is that in the past, any woman who achieved a level of professional success was regarded as some sort of freak.
It's only relatively recently, that women have been allowed, grudgingly, into boardrooms and head offices and, indeed, governments.
Give us a few more years, take us seriously and you'll soon see that we can split atoms and run foreign policies, too.
We might even be able to buy a laptop, configure a bathroom, name a woodland creature or even express an opinion without being asked what our husband thinks.
When U.S. Secretary of State Hillary Clinton was asked in a press conference in Africa what her absent husband Bill thought of events, she froze. Then, her eyes slowly rolled ceilingwards.
'If you want my opinion, I'll give you my opinion,' she snapped. 'I'm not here to channel my husband.'
Around the world, women cheered. Some might have turned to their spouses or male colleagues and said 'I know how she feels' - only they probably wouldn't have been heard.
http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2009/08/13/article-1206189-0605DBBA000005DC-195_468x404.jpg
'I'm not here to channel my husband': Hillary Clinton gets annoyed at a press conference this week
Because, even today, after 20 years of feminism, the female voice is like one of those whistles only dogs can hear.
My friends and I call these infuriating incidents 'pine marten moments'. This dates from the time, a few years ago, when my husband Chris and I were on holiday with a group of friends and family in France.
Seated around a table in a rustic restaurant, one of the party noticed a stuffed animal peering beadily from a glass case and a lively discussion ensued.
'I wonder what that is?' said Chris. 'I think it might be a stoat,' said a male friend. 'No, it's a ferret of some sort,' ventured my brother-in-law.
'Actually, it's a pine marten,' I announced confidently.
'Hmm,' replied the friend. 'Wrong colour for a ferret.'
'That's because it's a pine marten,' I repeated.
'Really?' said yet another friend. 'Well, maybe it's a weasel of some kind.'
This debate about woodland fauna carried on over my head for five minutes until my husband quietly ventured
'Could it be a pine marten?', at which there was a roar of masculine agreement. 'Of course! A pine marten! Well done, mate!'
None of these very nice blokes would ever deliberately ignore a woman and all were mortified when they finally realised what they'd done, but that evening I was clearly suffering from invisible - and, indeed, inaudible - woman syndrome.
A friend once worked at a political think-tank where pine marten moments were the rule rather than the exception.
She recalls: 'In a meeting, a colleague put forward quite independently an entire proposal that I'd made. When I cornered him on it, he said faux-sheepishly that he thought if I put it forward "it would get ignored" because my suggestions always were.
'I was so gobsmacked, I didn't point out that perhaps he could have supported my opinions, not stolen them.'
Another friend was browsing for a new laptop while out shopping with her husband.
The computer was for her own use, paid for with her own honestly-earned cash, and she was just deciding between the blue and the red models when a spotty assistant appeared at her shoulder.
'Can I help you sir?' he asked, looking straight at her baffled spouse. 'I felt like hurling the laptop at his head,' she told me. 'Is it really so incomprehensible that a woman looking at a laptop might actually be the one buying it?'
In the 1990s, comedian Arabella Weir created the hilarious and disturbingly accurate character The Girl That Boys Can't Hear for The Fast Show.
http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2009/08/13/article-1206189-014E936E00000578-797_468x286.jpg
Unable to speak 'female': Women often feel their opinions go unheard when in business meetings with men
Apparently, the show's male creators Paul Whitehouse and Charlie Higson originally vetoed it.
It took fellow comedian Simon Pegg to point out that this was how Weir was often treated in script meetings before they relented.
The fact that male intervention was needed is perhaps even more infuriating than the reluctance to include the sketch.
Weir described working on the show as feeling 'very similar to what I fancy it's like being imprisoned in a lap-dancing club with a rugby team after they've downed 20 pints - not that much fun, even for a very un-girly girl'.
Right now, I'm in the process of renovating my house. It's a big job, involving plenty of plastering, plumbing and pulling down of walls. And, of course, this means dozens of tradesmen being in my house, most, apparently, unable to speak a word of 'female'.
Recently, two Polish plasterers redecorated my daughter's bedroom. I admit I'm pretty bossy. I like to organise things. Every time I tried to speak to them they would stare at me with blank incomprehension, then turn to my husband and say: 'Sorry? What do you want?'
Even he found it embarrassing. It's the same with carpenters and electricians. They are clearly thinking: 'For God's sake, where is this woman's husband?'
When Chris does hove into view, I see them let out a sigh of relief and become chatty, though I can assure you that my husband knows no more about the intricacies of drains than I do.
A few years ago, researchers at the University of Sheffield apparently came up with a scientific explanation for this. They discovered that poor simple men find women's voices 'more difficult' to listen to than other men's.
The study showed that men deciphered female voices using the part of the brain that processes music, while male voices engaged a simpler mechanism.
We, apparently, have too much 'melody' in our voices to be heard properly.
Frankly, I'm sceptical. First, men seem to have no problem listing to music. Indeed, in my experience, it is only men who can make out the lyrics to the music of, say, Iron Maiden or Radiohead.
Yet these same men mysteriously cannot help but shut off the minute a woman starts talking? I think not.
A more likely explanation is that in the past, any woman who achieved a level of professional success was regarded as some sort of freak.
It's only relatively recently, that women have been allowed, grudgingly, into boardrooms and head offices and, indeed, governments.
Give us a few more years, take us seriously and you'll soon see that we can split atoms and run foreign policies, too.
We might even be able to buy a laptop, configure a bathroom, name a woodland creature or even express an opinion without being asked what our husband thinks.