You're playing in the Champions League final, but it looks like your wife is due to give birth to your first child on the very same day. What do you do? I asked this question to a few Facebook mates, a careless, unordered statistical sample of male friends selected on a super unscientific basis.
The reason for the question was the statement by Richard Sherman, top NFL football player, who indicated that he definitely did not want to miss the birth of his first son. The fact that he had hinted that he might not participate in the Super Bowl if his baby announced itself, sparked a lively discussion.
The Super Bowl is the biggest sporting event in America. To give you an idea: companies pay $150,000 per second for a commercial spot aired during this final. There is simply no better-watched event in the US than the Super Bowl. It's comparable to a European Championship or World Cup with the Netherlands in the final. Not a soul on the street, everyone glued to the screen. What makes a top player who trains, breathes, and lives for such a Super Bowl choose to be present at the birth of his son instead?
As a so-called emancipated woman who has often been called a feminist, this event made me think. Besides Sherman's statement and the commentary that followed, it was also my own thoughts as an independent woman that surprised me.
Why did I almost automatically assume that every professional player would choose the game? Even worse, why did it never occur to me as a woman to think that there might be women who want their husband by their side when the time of birth has come? Why did I initially find that almost unheard of? The Super Bowl, European Championship, World Cup are all fantastic, unparalleled events that I want to experience if possible, but no matter how great, there is simply no greater miracle than the birth of a child. Why do I, as a woman, then sympathize more with the spectacle of the man?
Now I started to wonder to what extent my Dutch background had influenced my thinking, hence the question to my Dutch mates.
In my opinion, the Netherlands is a pretty macho society when it comes to women's issues. I still can't get over how disrespectfully female sports journalists are treated. I read the piece "Football is also a woman's thing" with embarrassment.
Compared to America, this is simply barbaric. No occasion passes without these women being ruthlessly cut down as if to convince them to stay in their place. But that argument doesn't hold water. These women are doing nothing but practicing the profession they were trained for. Unfortunately, the world is too macho to give them a fair chance.
American Football may be an even more male-dominated sport than Dutch football. The testosterone running around is significant, but when the Super Bowl was over, it was a female journalist who ran onto the field and asked questions to those super masculine heroes. Live TV, with millions of viewers. There are more than enough female journalists here. Professional women with expertise, who do their homework, just as driven, good, and career-oriented as men; nobody questions that. Why is this a problem in the Netherlands?
It reminds me of the immortal statement by politician Pim Fortyn, "Woman, go cook," after the journalist, quite rightly, finally delved deeper into the superficial statements for which Mr. Fortyn was known. The newspapers were full of it, but not so much with amazement. Yes, people were surprised by the statement, but mostly found it funny!
Sorry, then I'll just be one of those feminists with hairs on my teeth, but I found nothing funny about it. What bothers me immensely in these situations is the clear tone that women should know their limits and instinctively realize that they will be pushed back with all force if they try to cross those invisible, imposed boundaries. That as a woman, you shouldn't make things difficult, shouldn't want too much, and especially shouldn't demand too much. The danger of this is that as a woman, you tend to take these boundaries for granted and limit yourself.
The discussion Sherman sparked therefore fascinated me not only from a man's perspective but perhaps even more so from a woman's. My mates' answers were surprisingly varied, but remarkably, most women responded with: play. Now the question arises: are my friends more emancipated than we women?