What's a Girl Gotta Do? (27 page)

forty-nine

Mum and Dad were already waiting outside – looking even more nervous than me. I expected a telling-off, but their faces softened when they saw me.

“Lottie!” Dad went to hug me. “We were worried you might not turn up.”

“I'm here.”

Mum suddenly looked teary. “Look, darling, about your project…”

I held up my hand. “Please, not here.”

“I know, darling…” She took my hand. “I just want you to know. Well, we'll always love you, whatever you decide.”

I looked at Dad. “You will?”

He nodded. “Yes, Lottie. Of course. But…well…” Mum must've given him a lecture, telling him to back off. “Just think about what the most important thing is,” he continued, giving me a meaningful look, “in the long run.”

I met his eyes. “I will.”

They called me precisely on time.

Even with everything I'd just decided, I felt incredibly nervous. The full force of my panic hit me the moment my name was read out. My palms instantly slickened and I wobbled up to standing, giving a feeble smile to the lady holding the clipboard.

“That's me.”

“Come with me, dear.” She walked off down an ornate corridor and I followed her and her very yellow cardigan, past doors with signs on them asking for quiet.

“Here you go.” She stopped outside a door and gestured for me to go in.

My hand quivered on the handle. I took a deep breath then, before I lost my nerve, I turned the knob.

The room was small, cosy. Books were everywhere – lining up ramshackle-like, right up to the ceiling.

And there, in two big leathery armchairs, with a small table separating them, two fellows sat.

Two male fellows.

Male.

Both of them.

They stood up, leaning over to shake my hand. One of them was older, with a limp handshake that felt very cold – “I'm Professor Brown.” The other dude, younger, so young he looked like he didn't need to shave very often, had a firm grip and a wide open smile.

“Charlotte Thomas, nice to meet you. Thank you for coming. Now please, do sit down.”

I found myself sitting, playing with my hands, twisting them over in my lap.

“Now,” Professor Brown said, “I'm just going to explain what's going to happen. We already have the written assessment you did as part of your application, so we'll talk about that. And we'll also talk about your personal statement and why you're applying here. It's a discussion really, rather than an interview. We want to hear more about what you think.”

I think it's a shame you're both men.

I nodded. “Sounds swell.”

SWELL? SWELL? LOTTIE, WHEN HAVE YOU EVER USED THE WORD SWELL BEFORE NOW?

Do I mention that they're both men? Is that sexist? Or just coincidence? Maybe there'll be two women in my next interview? They said there might be more than one. Do I ask? Do I bring it up? I knew I was supposed to, I knew what I'd decided, out there in the courtyard, less than half an hour ago, but I was still shaking for some reason.

“So…” the young man said. He'd told me his name. I couldn't remember it. Julian? “We were reading your personal statement, and it says here that you're interested in women's studies?”

Oh God, they were going straight for the feminism. Out of all the things I'd written in that freaking statement, they were going for my Achilles' heel. Had they seen my campaign? Is that what they were hinting at?

“That you started a society of sorts at your college?”

I gulped, maybe I nodded. I wasn't sure. My head didn't feel connected to anything – certainly not my sweat-engulfed body.

“That's right.”

“Well, as you know this course is called Human, Social, and Political Science, and we do discuss the role of women…”

Which is why I picked it.

“So, with that in mind,” Julian continued, “our first question is – if you could, what would you do to try and eradicate gender inequality in society?”

My eyes widened.

I couldn't answer that without bringing everything up. Everything I'd done. Was that why they were asking me? And, if I was going to be true to my project, would they mind me asking them some very pressing questions myself?

I knew what they were looking for. Mr Packson had explained how they worked and I knew they wanted me to pull the question apart. To show my wider reading, to show how I could think rationally, to show I was capable of independent thought (as long as I was referencing a lot of published academics' independent thought).

They weren't asking this so I could tell them about my video channel.

But that was what I was doing to try and eradicate gender inequality. And I was proud of it. I was so, so proud of it.

“Charlotte?” the professor prompted, looking unimpressed.

I hadn't answered. I hadn't said one thing. I knew I was standing on the edge of something – that this was a moment in my life that would become a “before” and “after”. I knew I wanted to leap off…but everything I'd ever been taught was to comply and behave in these sorts of situations.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, trying to buy time to sort myself out. “I'm thinking.”

It came out so much more aggressively than I'd hoped. Professor Brown raised an eyebrow. Julian was kinder about it.

“Maybe if you think out loud, Charlotte? Then we can see how you get to your answer?”

Oh no, I was choking. I was totally choking. And I hadn't brought up the fact they were both male yet…if I was going to… What was I going to do…? This was my last chance to decide. Be a drone? Be who they wanted me to be? Suck it up for a day? It's just one day! Learn how to pick my battles? Learn some fights aren't worth the sacrifice? That sometimes, just sometimes, it's okay to let things go? Especially if it's for a better outcome in the long run?

I still wasn't talking. It was getting awkward now. I probably had thirty seconds left before they wrote me off… The nerves got to her…such a shame… But I wasn't nervous about the thing they were assuming I was nervous about.

When you want to fight for what you believe in, you come across a lot of obstacles. People who don't agree with you, people who agree with you but only some bits, people who delight in ripping you down, people who are threatened by the strength of your belief.

But I was beginning to realize, the biggest hurdle to overcome was the hurdle of yourself.

Was I going to sabotage myself?

Or, actually, was I going to set myself free?

I remembered what Megan had said: “
Think back to the beginning, Lottie. What made you want to do this in the first place?
”

And I remembered the train, and the line, and flicking the switch. And that knowledge, deep inside of me, that I never wanted to be the one flicking it.

I wanted to be the sort of person who could face themselves in the mirror.

I wanted to be the sort of girl who knows you've got to pull out the bottom bricks of the pyramid, to topple the top ones.

I wanted to be the Lottie who inspired all those emails read out last week, by a roomful of all the best people I've ever met.

I wanted to change things on my own terms, to show that there's no right or wrong way to change the world. There's no entry test. You don't need to suck anything up. Pay any dues. Just you and your anger and your voice is enough. If you only have the courage to use it.

“Charlotte?”

I looked up, staring them straight in the eye. I opened my mouth to speak.

There is no going back – not once you've raised the veil, not once you've opened your eyes. You can't stuff it all back in a box, not once you've seen it. You can't pretend it's not there.

…So many people pretend it's not there.

I was not going to be one of those people.

“Well, the first thing I would do,” I said, my voice so confident I didn't even recognize it, “is ask why it's two
men
interviewing me to get into the most prestigious institution in this country. And then…” I paused for breath…

“Then, I want to tell you why I'm asking that.”

the end

a letter from holly

To my spinsters,

When I was twenty-five, I was sexually harassed on my way to work. In fact, what happens to Lottie at the opening of this book is essentially word-for-word what happened to me. I was going through A Very Bad Year, and something snapped in me that day. I knew I wanted it to stop. All of it. I didn't want any other girl to walk down the street and have that happen to them. That was the day I came up with the idea for this trilogy and the Spinster Club and Evie, Amber and Lottie.

Sometimes I want to thank those horrible, awful men in the van. As, really, they changed my life. Writing these books has changed me – they've helped me grow and learn and develop. What's been so amazing is seeing how you guys have responded to them too. Honestly, I could never have dreamed how funny, angry, strong, honest, brilliant and kick-ass my readers would turn out to be. Whenever you contact me to say you've started your own Spinster Club, or stood up to some sexist bullshit, or done a school assembly about International Women's Day – it warms my heart in such a deep way I can't even describe it.

Even with three whole books to explore feminism, I felt the spinsters and I have only exposed the tip of the iceberg that is inequality. I wasn't able to touch properly on feminism and how it relates to race, or disability, or sexuality, or gender identity, or class. Inequality is like a really shit onion, with layers upon layers of oppression pinning down different people in different ways. My experiences of being a woman will be different from yours. Lottie's, Amber's and Evie's experiences won't be entirely like yours. Also, if you're one of my awesome male readers, that doesn't mean you aren't also oppressed (and doesn't prohibit you from being a spinster either!).

I couldn't cover it all. But, what I hoped would happen with these books is that it would inspire you to fight for the change you want to see. To help you realize that, whoever you are, whatever you've experienced, whatever hardship you've faced, you have a voice and you are allowed to use it. Your voice counts. Your experience counts. Your anger counts. Together we can fight this. Together we are stronger. Together we can fight for a world that is healthier and happier for everyone in it.

I'm writing this on the first proper day of spring 2016, looking out at the daffodils. I don't know where you are as you're reading this. But wherever it is, I am reaching through my computer screen, and holding your hand through the pages of this book. I am travelling through time to tell you to GO FOR IT. I want to hear YOUR voice. I want to hear YOUR experience. What happens to you and what you go through matters. Your voice matters. I am passing on the torch. I want to see what fires you start (please, not literally, please always be safe). If these books have started a ripple in you, I want you to take that and make your own ripples.

It's not easy. Fighting for what is right rarely is. You will have days when you're too exhausted or angry to speak out. There will be times when it's not even safe to. Some days you'll get it wrong, or change your mind, or be a huge hunking hypocrite, and have people drag you across the coals for it. You'll come across people who are more pond-scum than people. You will find yourself defending your anger, defending your experience, practically daily – not just to The Man, but even to other feminists. Even, sometimes, to people you love and adore. But you're not alone. Find other people who get it. Start a Spinster Club. Find people who say “Me too”, rather than denying your experience. They're out there. They care. They understand. If you look for them, you will find them. And it changes everything. It makes the fight so much easier.

Thank you so much for coming on this journey with me. I cannot wait to see what journeys you are yet to go on. The incredible things I believe you are going to achieve. And, of course, the cheesy snacks you are going to devour.

Spinsters – it's over to you.

TO BE A FEMINIST?

If you've been inspired by Lottie's story and want to start your own Spinster Club, here are a few ideas…

Speak up!

Be the change you want to see. If you see something sexist, call it out if it's safe for you to do so. Ask questions, demand answers. If everyone did this, we'd get there so much quicker.

Check out Emma Watson's book club

Hermione *cough* I mean Emma Watson has started an online feminist book club, where you can read along with Hermione *cough* I mean Emma to grow your understanding of different feminist issues.

Help charities

Women's services are being cut hard and fast, and you can help raise money/volunteer for charities filling these gaps. Seek out charities that you feel passionate about – there's loads of great info online.

Start a Spinster Club

Honestly! Some of the best feminist campaigns have come out of girls just getting together and chatting about how WEIRD it is to be a girl. Book some time in every week with people you trust and feel comfortable around to just have a big natter. It's mad how inspired you feel afterwards.

And to get you started, check out…