I became a true feminist in 1971, after attending a conference where I learned how to perform my own pelvic exam using a mirror, a flashlight and a speculum.
Up until that point, I had believed that only men had the answers. After that conference, I began a lifelong process of breaking this habit I’d developed since childhood.
That’s why I was gobsmacked when I realized what I had done recently.
The story begins as I was wondering how to locate the clinic where I was scheduled to get a test done. When I turned on my phone and didn’t immediately see my maps app, I reflexively Googled MapQuest. I saw something flashy that looked like what I wanted so I punched install.
I was halfway through downloading this supposed MapQuest when I saw it wasn’t what I wanted. This was an app for World Cup followers! But I couldn’t get it to stop. Soon it started asking me to predict which team was going to win. The app was insistent. Since I had to leave for my appointment, I turned off my phone and stowed it in my purse.
Wendell and I had been in the downtown area before so we navigated by shouting at each other when either of us saw a street sign or building with numbers. Eventually we pulled up to a revolving door. Still apprehensive about whether we’d found the right place, I fingered the car door handle and said, “I’ll go in and if I don’t come out in ten minutes, you park the car and come in.”
It was the correct place so after I checked in, I looked around the huge waiting room and chose a section consisting of a dozen seats. The chairs in this grouping were not all occupied but I noticed two men absorbed in their phones sitting opposite of one another. I sat down and pulled out my phone to see if I could delete the annoying app.
It soon became clear that the task was beyond me and since in my Buddhist study group we’ve been talking about no separation, I made a decision to ask for help. The man who looked the most competent to me, due to his intense focus on what he was doing, would not look up. I was closer to the other man and so I stood up, phone in hand, and getting his attention, asked if he could help me because I had messed up my phone.
His face turned red and he seemed quite annoyed. He told me it wasn’t personal, that he was having trouble checking in for his appointment. Then he shook his head woefully and sputtered that he wouldn’t be any help, as he’d messed up his own phone. At that moment, a nurse called his name and he left.
The other man had also been summoned. So that left me and a woman that I hadn’t noticed before. She also had a cell phone clutched in her hands. When I finally saw her, she kindly offered to help.
I kicked myself for falling into old patterns, old non-feminist patterns, of looking for men to act as the experts. I don’t like to admit this but it seemed important for me to face, once again, an old 1950’s part of me that thinks father knows best.
IMAGE: Another image from the photoshoot. I think I look like I’m trying to forgive myself for the transgression I disclosed in this post.
