So last month’s column was this, with all the attendant conversation it generated.
I was checking the website of the Ahwatukee Foothills News (you should check it out, too) last night and realized that someone had taken the time to write the paper directly about me and my aversion to being called a ‘girl.’
And boy, was he ticked:
Dear Editor:
What is it about some women that they are so sensitive to the myriad of words used to describe a collection of any gender, in this case girls?
Elizabeth Evans was, through her political correctness (“I know he meant well,” AFN, Nov. 3), able to ruin a morning for a gentleman that was almost certainly, even by her own admission, just trying to be nice and bring some pleasantries into daily life. I certainly hope it made her feel better and that her day went better after she was successfully able to establish that she was a grown woman. I suspect she may have established in that gentleman’s mind that she was also something else (a term often associated with female dogs).
I suspect that gentleman and his buddies, wherever they gather, a favorite restaurant, pub or golf course , would take no offense if a waitress said, “Good morning boys!”
Life is hectic enough without having to crush the pleasantries out of it with someone’s idea of political correctness.
R. James Thorne
This is what I think about that:
1. I was thinking about the ramifications of being called a ‘girl’ decades before anyone coined the term ‘politically correct.’ PC has nothing to do with this; in fact, if Java Man had thought to think about it and refrained from using the word ‘girl,’ then *he* would have been the politically correct one.
2. I wound up having a long, happy conversation with Java Man. Maybe that’s because I didn’t hold any of the anger that Mr. Thorne managed to dredge up in his letter.
3. And I certainly didn’t call anyone a bitch, a nicety that Mr. Thorne managed to avoid.
4. He is most certainly incorrect when he says that no man has a problem with being called a ‘boy.’ I say this from first-hand knowledge, and I repeat it now: don’t ever, ever, ever, EVER call an American black man ‘boy.’ If you’re lucky, they’ll be as nice as I was to Java Man.
5. In the original blog repeat of this column, someone commented that it was a shame that someone would think I’m not very nice, when in fact I am nice (or words to that effect). Eh.
Truth is, I would be sorely disappointed if all the feedback I ever got was happy-happy-joy-joy. I’m so happy anyone actually reads this stuff that I’d love the chance to thank him for caring enough to write. And he spelled my name right! Bonus!
None of this is personal; it can’t be. I’ve tried writing in such a manner that I offend no one, and hated the results. There are approximately ten people on the planet whose personal opinion I keep in mind when writing for the public; if you’re one of them, you know it.
If you’re not, thank you for reading! I am honored when you read, and especially honored when you take the time to write, no matter what names you choose to call me.
© E.S. Evans 2010
Mom, Interrupted 
Honey…being on the internet has shown me the full spectrum of human thinking, beliefs and responses. Take for example, reading the user reviews of a product I’m thinking to buy. It will have overall great ratings…people will gush about what a FAAAN-tastic product it is, and how it has changed their lives forever. At the other end of the spectrum you’ll have people (often more than one) saying that the product is little more than a plastic shell, not living up to any of its promises and breaking on the first day out of the box. Or someone posts a cute picture of a kitten. You get ten ooohs and ahhhs, and one person who says all cats must die, and then a barrage of people saying no, indeed, it’s the cat-hater who must die, and then along comes the grammar police and corrects everyone’s entries.
I’ve come to the conclusion that there’s a certain segment of our population that’s just nuckin futz, and the internet has just given them a broader forum to display their psychoses. I’ve known you for ten years now, followed your blog posts and your column and you’re my hero(ine)…you had a dream and you went for it. And calling you a girl is like calling an alligator a lizard.
Hugs,
Nana
I love blogs and blog threads. They help to relieve the angst that builds up in daily life. I love a good debate, but I realize that very few people in real life have the same hobby. On a blog thread, one can “get it all out”, debate, and learn how others have formed different conclusions. I often come away from a thread with a different perspective. All of this without shouting or the cops being called. To me, it’s facinating. Others find it grating. Don’t participate or do, but it’s crazy to take it personally.