Women warriors (again)

So, this past weekend, I got to hang out for a few hours with a statistical rarity - a budoka who happens to be female. I should say, that this particular rarity only seems to be the case outside Japan, and, in my anecdotal experience, specifically in the U.S. The occasion was a taikai (lit. "large gathering") of some modern sword-style practitioners. I respect this style, and many of the people who practice it, but modern styles are not my thing. My friend and her husband were selling equipment. I came to "help," and also pick up an equipment order for some students (I don't think I was really all that helpful - but at least I provided some entertainment).

During the course of our hanging out (which included looking for a beer store that happened to not exist - yes, there are statistically-rare women who also like to drink beer), the thought came up briefly of the dearth of women budoka in the U.S. This is not a new topic for me, as some readers of this blog might know. Go to any large gathering of budoka in the U.S., and you may find a handful of women, mostly junior students. If the event is prestigious enough, you may also find some spouses of male budoka who are not directly involved. We encountered one such person at the event this weekend, who accosted my friend with an endless stream of comment about a psych paper she was working on. As we faded out of earshot, I asked what that was about. "I have no idea," my friend responded, "except that this event has been going on for three days, and she is probably bored out of her skull by now." Hmm.

This point led to a discussion of what it is like to be a woman taking part in such an event. At the events I go to in Japan, women make up 1/4 to 1/3 of participants, and at least some of them are senior students and/or teachers. And it depends on the type of budo - if it is a naginata gasshuku or taikai, men can expect to be in the minority, since women mostly practice naginata. If kyudo, maybe half and half, since many women in Japan also practice kyudo.

At any traditional weapons seminar in the U.S., however, women are a rarity (I can't speak for empty hand styles). The few women participants I encounter at these events are not very friendly; it's as if they have had to hunker down just to get where they are, and they are so used to being alone, and so serious about what they are doing, that getting them into a basic conversation can be incredibly difficult (I am speaking from personal experience). As for the women's auxilliary, they can be almost hostile. Maybe it's because they are annoyed that their husband or boyfriend would rather spend his time swinging a sword or stick on that particular weekend instead of being at home. There is also the feeling that they are mentally asking me, "What are you doing here?" as though, if my husband or boyfriend were not taking part, I had no business being there myself.

My friend pointed out that little girls seem to love swords, sticks, and all kinds of stuff like that. I concur. Years ago, my husband and I contributed a pirate ship miniature golf obstacle for a charity event. Play had to be stopped at least twice because a cadre of little girls had taken over the "pirate ship" and were prepared to repel all attempts at boarding (i.e. playing through). And they were as serious as a group of little girls playing pretend could be (which is very serious, actually).

But something seems to happen once girls get to be nine or ten. Somehow they get the message that martial activities are not for them. By the time they are teenagers, the animated looks are replaced with gazes of supreme boredom, even as boys step right up. Some feminist writers, such as Peggy Orenstein, have questioned the value of the messages young girls are receiving via U.S. mass culture. In particular, the message that girls are supposed to emulate princesses, whose social role is essentially passive. This idea, disappointingly, flies in the face of the previous generation's struggle for equality (and all to make a few more bucks for toy manufacturers). I recently gave a demonstration/workshop at a kids' camp in Philadelphia. One of the more poignant questions came from one of the female counselors: were there gender restrictions to studying swordsmanship? Gender restrictions.

I responded, of course, in the negative. As far as I know, in Japan, there have been no restrictions. I could be wrong about the past, but I can definitively say now that budo in Japan is open to everyone. However, I said, in the U.S., sadly, girls and women feel somehow that the martial arts are not for them.

I sometimes wonder what would have happened to me if I had been judged and pushed into a social mold like the ones I see around me for girls now. When I was a kid, I was a tomboy. Would I now have been called "transgendered" as a child, instead? Would I be ostracized because I don't like the color pink?

Real, traditional budo has a lot to offer people - a sense of history, traditional aesthetics, strategy, philosophy, even ethics; along with the fitness and confidence that one normally hears about. I find it incredibly sad that half the population thinks such things are not for them.