This is an actual conversation, transcribed verbatim to the best of my dodgy recollection (with names changed). You should know that it takes place at my daughter’s martial arts class with a friend of mine, “Mac D.” April has just thrown Mac’s son (Conn) and Mac took a picture of it.
April: Thank you? (runs off)
Dame B: We’re a third-wave household. It’s kinda assumed she can throw a boy.
Mac: Huh? Third-wave?
Dame B: First wave, suffragettes. Women are not property. Second wave, burn-your-bra baby boomer stuff. Women are just as good as men. Third-wave, me. Women and men are equal and we have to call you on the systemic and subtle sexism.
Mac: I like third-wave. I’m okay, you’re okay, just don’t be a dick.
Dame B: Yeah, I mean I get where second-wave came from, but I like third-wave better, too. But, you know, we have to call you out when you say sexist shit like you just did.
Mac: I did?
Dame B: Yeah.
Mac: But I was being nice! I was saying she could throw a boy.
Dame B: Which is sexist.
Dame B: Listen, being impressed that she can throw Conn isn’t sexist. He’s a rank higher than she is and two years older. Saying she can throw a boy, like it’s a big deal, it’s implying that girls can’t normally throw boys. Do you see?
Mac: But it wasn’t.
Dame B: It wasn’t intended to be sexist. But it really was.
Dame B: It’s okay. it’s a complicated thing. You’re trying.
Mac: It is complicated! I was trying to be nice, like, yay, strong women, you can throw a boy!
Dame B: I know, I get it. But third-wave feminism just assumes girls can throw boys. Implying otherwise is sexist.
Mac: This is hard.
Dame B: But you’re trying and we’re so damned grateful for that.