More difficult than the classes, more difficult than the pressure of college and responsibilities is the constant nagging of my female peers.In our school, they are the dominant sex and feminism can be felt from miles around.Females control our school, and there is no way of getting around it.
The common myth that women are inferior to men is completely and utterly wrong. Ever since I began high school, I knew that I was different from the other guys. One by one I noticed my male peers being weeded out from the higher academic levels, leaving a predominantly female crowd, but I was, and still am, determined to keep my position.
As the years have gone by, I have become the “token male” in many of the top classes. It is difficult to hold onto such an prestigious role when I know that there are females surrounding me, ready to prove that the “token male” is not as sophisticated as one might think. I find myself included in conversations about such things as male bashing and female apparel that males are usually excluded from. When we are in biology, they complain about pregnancy, and then turn hateful eyes toward me, grumbling that I will never know the agony of childbirth.
The strange thing is those conversations and continual male-bashing sessions no longer phase me. Now it’s difficult to talk about “guy things. ” I almost always turn to females for intellectual conversation. Sometimes there aren’t any guys around to talk about anything. I have learned to deal with it though, and I’m happy that I’ve had this experience with humiliation. It has made me respect women more than I ever would have. I think that any self-respecting feminist would be proud of me. My female biology teacher has dubbed me “Token Male. In my advanced biology, advanced physics, advanced English, and Spanish IV classes I am overwhelmed by the estrogen. I couldn’t imagine not having Sarah around to get notes from, or Rose to laugh when Mr. Marshall calls me eloquent. I am not the average guy anymore. I listen to the conversations with interest, waiting to interject my own perspective. However, I am wary not to attract too much attention from one of the preying females. I go to the bathroom and see a male friend out in the hall and slap him five as I go back into class. I look to the girls to hear them say, in unison, “Stupid Boy. “