No Time For Brevity

When I was a kid, my mom made me go to a summer camp for “developing artistic talent” or something equally stupid. I had no artistic talent to develop. She, however, had a relationship to develop with my soon-to-be stepfather, so out of the house I went, nine to noon, six weeks straight. She was always late picking me up.

When I was a kid, we played a lot of games. I didn't mind games that left things completely up to chance, like Candy Land. I didn't mind games that required more skill and the devaluing of friendships, like Monopoly.

But I hated playing Guess Who.

Why? You drew a card and the other person had to guess who you were based on characteristics. OK, easy enough. Well, I hated drawing a woman. Or a minority. Or someone with glasses. Because it would narrow things down so quickly the other person was sure to win.

Technically speaking, each characteristic covers 1/5 of the people on the board. But as a kid, I didn't have stigma attached to being bald, or blonde, or wearing hats. The stigma was about being a woman.

I just realized I spent my childhood playing a game that - intentionally or not - taught me about the disadvantages of women and people of color.