By protecting girls from dangerous and difficult activities, we make fear an integral part of their life path. Perhaps this is the reason for the insecurity that prevents already adult women from getting their way, says Caroline Paul, a writer, former lifeguard and firefighter.
I was one of the first women in the San Francisco Fire Department. For more than a decade, I’ve been hard at work in a very difficult neighborhood, full of dilapidated housing that burns like a torch, inhabited by Mexican gangs with machetes and 22-gauge pistols. I’ve hauled bloated bodies out of bays, resuscitated an infant, and crawled through countless smoky corridors.
I expected that everyone would be interested in whether it is difficult for a woman to do this kind of work – even despite the fact that I was a 70-pound former athlete with a height of 173 cm. What I did not expect was the question of whether I was afraid.
It was strange – and hurtful – to meet people who doubt my courage. I have never heard my male colleagues asked about this. Apparently, it seems quite normal to most that a woman should and can experience fear.
The accumulation of this fear begins in childhood. Many studies show that girls’ self-esteem depends on whether they played sports in childhood or how much time they spent outside. And from early childhood, many girls tend to avoid risky activities.
There is, for example, a study devoted to such an element of playgrounds as a fire pole, along which people slide down to the ground from a small height. The behavior of the parents is especially indicative in this case: they warn their daughters about the danger of the “fire pole” much more zealously than their sons. At the same time, both parents willingly guide their sons towards fears – with “instructions” on how to succeed.
With each victory over fear and physical difficulties, I gained self-confidence.
Recently, a friend admitted to me that she was more worried about her daughter than about her son: “She is so clumsy!” I wondered if it was possible to teach such a child to cope with problems. The friend agreed that there was a possibility, but the battle between maternal instinct and reason was clearly visible on her face. And the mind lost. I was also a clumsy child.
I was also shy and afraid of many things: older children, monsters lurking under the bed. But I was also madly infatuated with National Geographic magazine, Sir Lancelot and the Knights of the Round Table who roamed the woods, swore oaths of courage and honor. None of these symbols spoke of fear. They talked about courage, learning new things, and doing exciting things.
What’s more, I was cycling down a steep country road and one day I crashed into a car. I was riding down an ice slide in the winter and one day I crashed into a tree. I don’t remember my parents worrying about it. They seemed to understand that such failures were part of childhood. I had a few stitches, and I again went cycling and sledding. Adversity meant that I had to try again. With each victory over fear and physical difficulties, I gained self-confidence.
I recently asked my mom why she never tried to stop me. She said that her mother was a nervous woman who got very upset every time something fell or broke. “It made my childhood very boring, so I wanted you to get everything a child should get,” she replied.
Nobody says girls have to be reckless. But managing risks is very important for a child’s development.
My mother is rather an exception. According to one study, parents of children with injuries requiring medical attention remind their daughters to be careful four times more often than their sons. This seems reasonable, but researchers have noticed that girls are less likely than boys to try difficult physical exercises that are important for developing new skills.
No one is saying that injuries are a good thing, or that girls should be reckless. But managing risks is very important for a child’s development. Gever Tully, author of 50 Dangerous Things (You Should Allow Your Kids) says it’s good for a child to have their own pocket knife, to make a fire, to make a bow and arrow, because potentially dangerous activities are done under parental supervision, teach children responsibility and accuracy. It follows that by warning girls against these dangers, we do not protect them at all – we make them grow up completely unprepared for life.
When a girl realizes that the possibility of skinning her knee is a good reason not to try to do something, she begins to subconsciously avoid activities outside her comfort zone. Soon, many situations become too scary, when in fact they are just unusual and unusual. Fear becomes an integral part of her life path. By the time the girl reaches adolescence, no one is surprised that she squeals at the sight of an insect.
We must stop letting fear rule our lives and the lives of our daughters.
When girls become women, this fear transforms into unnecessary piety towards others and caution in making decisions. As a result, we are forced to learn to resist this by forcing ourselves to go beyond the edge of our comfort zone. I admire what the authors of books on self-realization for women are trying to do, but they came too late.
We must stop allowing fear to rule our lives and the lives of our daughters, and instead put them in the same environment in which we raise boys – in an environment where resilience and courage are valued. We need to encourage girls as they try to learn skills that are seemingly difficult and dangerous for them. And it’s not at all touching when a 10-year-old girl squeals: “I’m afraid!”
When I worked as a firefighter, I was often scared. My male colleagues were also afraid. But fear is not a reason to give up something. I pushed my fear back to where it belongs – behind a wall of feelings, attention, confidence and courage. And then she entered with her team into a burning building.
About the Author: Carolina Paul is a journalist and writer.