#firstworkpains -- Combatting Gender Stereotypes, One Sticker at a Time

August 1, 2012

      When I'm not dazzling the world with my ineptness at serving quality burgers and fries, I do clerical work at a local vet clinic. Specifically, I work in their allergy lab, which makes and sends allergy vaccines to other animal hospitals across the Northeast. Part of this glamorous job is putting labels and stickers on boxes that will eventually hold the liquified fruits of my supervisor's labor.
     When I first began working there, back in May, my supervisor told me that we put stickers on each of the boxes because it adds sincerity to an otherwise anonymous creation. The stickers give each box a personality, showing that we understand that each individual pet has a personality as well. (My internal bullshit meter was off the charts, but...arts and crafts!) I nodded to the reasoning behind the only semi-creative part of my job, ready to get paid to relive my childhood. However, before letting me have free reign over my adhesive minions, she mentioned that because it was spring/summer and all the stickers were flowers I should try to give blue, green, and yellow flowers to the male dogs and pink, purple, and red flowers to the female dogs. For a while, I adhered to her directions as I adhered each sticker. I seriously took an extra minute to remind myself of the pet's sex and choose a flower accordingly.
      Of course, it took less than a day for me to realize the ridiculousness of this ritual. Dogs didn't have the same cultural constructions of reality as humans did, if they had any at all. Dogs had sexes, but they didn't have genders. Furthermore, they did not use colors as a way to symbolize gender. I noted the irony on my first day, but, for some reason, I could not stick it to the (wo)man. I complied with the idea of gender symbolism and stereotypes for weeks before I finally took a stand. I put a pink flower on the box for "Chief." He was not only a male dog with a hyper-masculine name, but also a hyper-masculine breed-- a pit bull.
      I realize the insignificance of this peaceful protest. Choosing a "non-traditional"color for the arbitrary sticker on a random allergy vaccine box was not groundbreaking. The floor stayed firmly in place after I pressed the sticker down. The world kept spinning as I put blue stickers onto the boxes of the dozens of "Mollies," "Bellas," and "Princesses" as well. Still, I felt like I was making a real difference; if not to anyone else, at least to me. I succeeded in getting one person to think differently about gender roles and expectations, and even though she's still got a lot to learn...about everything, she's proud of herself for starting the small, silent cause of sticker equality. Sure, she's not Gloria Steinem (nor does she want to be), but she's not just another office assistant either.