When I went to see my family over Thanksgiving break, sixteen people were crammed into my grandmother’s house. Both of my grandmas were there, two aunts, two uncles, my mom and dad, three cousins, two boyfriends, one family friend and me — a small house stuffed with people and food, chairs and collapsible tables from the basement and my grandma’s cat, inevitably underfoot.
It was a constant moving wave of bodies from kitchen to living room to dining room. Lots of “Excuse me,” “Sorry, I have to get by,” and “No, you’re fine! Stay there!” But what I noticed, when we finally settled down to eat dinner and talk, was the space in which the men took up in comparison to the women in my family. The men had their legs spread out, knees apart, arms on the backs of chairs and sofas, while my mom, aunts and cousins squashed themselves in tiny spaces on the couch, legs crossed, arms tucked under legs, sometimes sitting two to a seat. Granted, the men in my family are all really tall, but so are the women — we all have to find places to put our long legs and arms.
I’ve noticed this sort of space infringement elsewhere as well. In my classes, a man will unconsciously take up more room, spreading his feet far apart, where I will take up as little room as possible and move by bag and legs out of the way. In restaurants when a large group of friends get together, I’ve observed that the women will cram themselves three or four to a bench, while the men in our group will demand more space. When in movie theaters, doctor’s offices, or transit systems, men will monopolize armrests and I’ve had to apologize and move my elbows. Women will typically cluster together; men will usually space themselves out. And it’s not just a Midwest, Iowan thing — I’ve noticed this all across the country.
What made me think about this idea–about the space we take up — is from a poetry performance I found on YouTube by Lily Meyers called “Shrinking Women.” She illustrates this picture of her mother steadily shrinking while her father grows, how her brother is allowed unfiltered comments while she has to edit before she speaks. She talks about this idea of space entitlement and how she struggles with her right to exist comfortably without compromise — without having to justify her physical existence.
When she recreates a dialogue with her brother, about how their relationship with food differs, she says, “You have been taught to grow out, I have been taught to grow in. You learned from our father how to emit, how to produce . . I learned to absorb. I took lessons from our mother in creating space around myself.”
And something that makes me especially angry once I realized I too do this almost every day: “I asked five questions in my genetics class today and all of them started with the word ‘sorry’.”
Why have I always done this? Where was I taught to do this? I’ve always felt like I was intruding. Disrupting the class. Being a nuisance. I’ve felt that the space I was throwing my words out into was not mine — like I hadn’t earned them.
It might just be a Midwestern habit, and yes, it is a stereotype, but we do tend to be a genuinely nice and friendly group of people. We smile. We say “thank you.” We speak quickly in case we are taking up too much of another person’s time. We say “sorry” when it isn’t even our fault, but I do think this habit and Lily Meyers’ take part in runs deeper than simple niceties.
As a whole, women are typically pressured to be smaller, to lose weight, to shrink themselves, while men are typically pressured to be larger, to buff up, to expand themselves. And to be fair, this perspective of ideal body size is changing for men and women. Steadily, body positivity is spreading and body types that do not fit into society’s beauty standards are being validated and praised, but still, we are fighting for our right to take up room, especially in regards to conversation space.
I don’t want this to turn into a blaming game.
I do want all of us to notice our positive and negative spaces, however. Notice how well your body takes up space — notice how other bodies around you are taking up space. Notice how much space you’re leaving around you. Do you have enough space? Do others around you have enough space? Are you intruding on someone else’s space? Are you taking up space that belongs to someone else? Are you talking over someone while they speak? Are you staying quiet because you feel you haven’t earned it?
Everyone: please don’t be afraid to exist in the physical and vocal space — that space is yours and you deserve it, but be courteous and kind to the bodies and voices around you — give everyone the space and room they deserve and are entitled to.
