Throwing Tires: Feminism in Agriculture Take Two

Although I’ve written about this before (Push-ups in the Parlor- Feminism in Agriculture), the subject holds new weight for me as I experience difficulties with clashing cultures during my time abroad.

I like to think I’ve adapted fairly well to the lifestyle and culture here in Northern Germany over the past five months. However, the gap between me and my eastern European and Middle Eastern colleagues is often a daunting rift to bridge. They see everything I do and everything I am, through the lens of my gender. It’s something I am familiar with from working in the dairy industry in conservative southwest Virginia, but I have never experienced the prejudice to the extent that I face here.

Upon arriving, I was welcomed by my Romanian and Bosnian roommates. Still, it became immediately clear to me that they judged me and set me in a category based on my sex. It seemed that the two of them had endless instructions for everything from how to fore-milk a cow to how I should cut my hair. Although I always try to be politely receptive to work advice, I adamantly and vocally resented the running commentary on my personal life.

Then, after a three week vacation back to Bosnia, my roommate returned with a completely different attitude. Rather than advising and scrutinizing, he was suddenly friendly. He asked me to get dinner, watch soccer, drink whiskey… Rather than attempting to tell me my own opinion, he wanted to hear my view on farm gossip and world politics.

I was so taken aback by our spontaneous brotherhood that I eventually worked up the courage to question the motive behind the change. His answer was a little unbelievable.

“Well, I didn’t feel like we were getting a long in the beginning. I felt like you never listened to me, and that you were angry when I tried to help you.” He paused to correct his German, nursing a glass of Cola-Korn. “I talked to my wife. She suggested that American girls aren’t used to being treated that way, and maybe I should just try treating you like a man.”

I was completely speechless.

“I think it’s been working out.” He concluded.

“Maybe you should just treat everyone this way.” I suggested after my stunned silence. He shrugged and turned his attention back to the televised soccer game.

The concept was impossibly foreign to me. The way that this man interacts with the opposite sex is so different from that of how he treats his own, that this decision to view me as a man took us from the brink of fighting to the development of inside jokes.

This instance of overpowering sexism was not an isolated event. My newest coworker is from Poland. I was tasked with training him in the basics of the farm and the coupling presented an immediate issue. The age and language gap didn’t seem daunting to me, but his concept of my inferiority due to my gender proved a huge challenge. He insisted on hearing the same answer I had just given from a secondary male coworker before complying, and went so far as to tell me not to try to lift or throw particular tires because they would be too heavy for me.

I’m not sure I’ve ever been as angry or frustrated as I was while training him for the first day. His very attitude towards me was an insult in itself.

I had to remind myself of my own advice…

Yes, it’s a man’s world. I feel it every time I have to sit on the edge of my bulldozer’s seat to reach the pedals and each time I have to climb a wall in the milking parlor just to put kickers on a cow. I especially feel it each time the visiting Afghani day laborers resist my instructions and judge my efforts with sneers and quiet comments, asking my manager why he’s letting a “little girl” oversee their work.

I recognize that it’s a man’s world, but that does not mean that I accept it. Nor do I boycott it, or begrudge it, or bemoan it.

I THRIVE in it.

So I let them gawk, comment, snicker, and instruct. I just hold my head a little higher, work a little harder, and throw a heavier tire on the silo. l know from experience: the comments always stop once they realize I’m outperforming them at their own job.

It’s a man’s world…. until I make it mine.