I’m a woman and I believe we have a long way to go to achieve total gender equality and inclusivity here, specifically, on Dickinson’s campus. That’s not to say that I or my friends have been personally victimized, categorized or oppressed by virtue of their identities as women.

Typically, we aren’t insulted or catcalled in broad daylight; we’re graded on the same scales as everyone else; our academic priorities are cared for. But there are many smaller things at Dickinson which create a culture of sexism based on a gender binary – and this culture is perpetuated and cemented in modern society because it’s inculcated here, now.

I’m a woman. The fictionalized, idealized version of “womanhood” affects, even unconsciously, my interactions with the world at large, even with my friends: body image, sexual repression, shaming, double standards. We have all been over this ground before. But there are other things that we don’t discuss, no less engrained in our culture, that affect women’s lives in different but no less dangerous ways. I’m a woman. I shouldn’t have to fear for my physical and mental safety when I walk after dark, when I go to a party, when I wear a skirt that rises above my knees. I shouldn’t have to be afraid.

We talk about sexual assault on campus – the rhetoric of consent and prevention and victims – but we don’t talk about what it can mean: the forced subjection of women, the way their abusers feel that they “deserve” sex, that the women involved are simply bodies. This idea is stamped on our culture – women are disposable and accessible, and if someone wants a female body, they should take it.

I’m a woman. In the caf line, I’m not given the same portion as the male athlete in front of me. I am shorter and female, but I’m just as hungry: women don’t eat less than men and they are certainly as hungry as men, but a long tradition of diets, clothing sizes, and weight stigmatization leads to the assumption that a woman should have less food. It’s an unconscious assumption, and it’s wrong. In class, in general discussion, women are “complimented” in ways that men don’t need to be complimented. “You’re really articulate.” That shouldn’t be surprising: women can be smart, and articulate, and coherent, and this isn’t a deviation from the “norm.” We shouldn’t be surprised when a woman speaks up and out.

I’m a woman, and I want to change my position on this campus and in the world.