By: Lingying Chang

After the Math class, I got my weekly math quiz grade. It was 56.

This sounded terrible to a 9-year-old child. Adding insult to injury, it wasn’t the first time I got this disappointing grade. It happened to me a lot.

I could not help bursting into tears since I knew it was not the result I had expected, given that I tried my best to prepare. I took the mock tests, reviewed the key points, listened carefully in class, and actively asked questions. But all my efforts were in vain.

My math teacher also knew how hard I had worked. When I went to his office, eager to understand why this disappointment hit me again, he spoke right before I opened my mouth: “Lingying, I know you tried hard, but don’t be so frustrated. Girls are always weak in math. It’s not your fault.”

To be honest, as a 9-year-old child, I felt pretty relieved after hearing these words. They seemed a reasonable excuse to escape my sadness. However, when I look back now, I think I should have felt a much deeper depression then. These words may have allowed me to forgive myself, but they were also a condemnation: “You’ll never get a chance to be good at math because you’re a girl.”

My story is not an isolated case. As children, we never thought about gendered stereotypes, and they guided us to think, “Oh, the world just expects me to behave so.” This was also the point that we were unintentionally “doing gender.” Simply, everything in your life can be gendered. You will be treated differently and have different experiences simply because of your gender. The question struck me immediately when I wrote my story here: “What if I were a boy?”

If the same thing happened to a boy called Lingying, would there be anything different from girl Lingying’s story? Immediately, I got the answer to this question: it would be completely different.

What happened next may show why I am confident about this answer. When I entered fifth grade, students were able to participate in math competitions. To achieve great results, the school required every class to select ten “seed players” who, in my class, were called “Ten Math Supermen.” They got extra tutoring after school. At that time, I was uncomfortable because I was excluded from these advanced discussions. However, recalling those moments now, I realize that my deeper pain came from my disadvantaged status. I did not receive equal confidence and positive expectations from my teacher because I was a girl with a poor math record.

In my story, the teacher compared me to boys and reinforced the gender binary. But that’s not the whole story. Even among girls, gender stereotypes can be enforced. Enter my “pink” story.

I love all things pink. This was especially true when I was a kid. However, this love brought painful memories. Several girls in my class—who thought black and white were the “coolest colors”—set up an “Anti-Pink Alliance.” Nobody would play with girls who liked pink. Even more ridiculously, members would never speak to me since they thought I was “dirty” and would “pollute” them for my color preferences. It was ridiculous and extremely heartbreaking. The “Anti-Pink Alliance” used color to nudge out others and reinforce their identities as “cool girls.” Ironically, I was stereotyped by the people who shared my gender and categorized as a “girly girl,” inferior to those “cooler” than me.

My stories exhibit that gender is socially structured. We never stop “doing gender” so long as we are still interacting in this world.  Gender intersects with race, ethnicity, age, and any other identity you can name. “Doing gender” is a lifelong issue; its impacts are long-lasting.

Interestingly, the endings of my stories are different.

In my math story, though I failed in Math and chose to study Chinese Language and Literature at university, I did not give up working hard to improve my math skills. After not formally studying math for about four years, I still earned the highest rank (98 out of 100) in SIPA’s math camp in my first semester at Columbia University.

The ending of the pink story is not so sweet. Even now, I am hesitant to answer, “What’s your favorite color?” My answer is still pink, but I do not dare to say it bravely.

Honestly speaking, it felt good to finally become a “Math Superwoman.” However, I know how hard it is. Not every time, we dare to break gendered assumptions remaining from our early childhood. But, give it a try. I’m with you—the coolest “pink girl.”