Learning about myself through my research

For much of my adult life, I have been a defender of people. I’m the person who steps in and speaks up when others can't or won’t. I’m not always right to do so. It’s not always productive for me to step into the caretaker role. My internal sense of justice for all gets me into trouble sometimes. It also leads me to some pretty cool discoveries about myself and the people around me.

One of my primary research interests is women. I love talking to and listening to women. It makes me happy to feel like they trust me to tell their stories. I wish more women felt comfortable telling their own stories and had a platform and the freedom to do so. In my role as a researcher, adopted mom, or friend, I listen to women talk about men. Sometimes, these are sad stories. More often, they are happy stories. Too often, they are frightening tales of relationships gone wrong. Most of the time, the woman just wants to be heard. She wants to tell her story in her way. I hide any judgmental or directive thoughts and offer support and understanding.

As I listen to women in China tell me their stories about conflict at work and home, I realize that they are often the same as those in the U.S. There are some differences in family structure and expectations, but the underlying experiences and feelings are very similar. My feelings about their stories are the same as for women in the U.S. However, I experienced a moment of self-discovery as I conducted research interviews last week with Chinese women.

Many of the people who know me are familiar with—and probably tired of—my frequently voiced disdain for authority. Last week, a young woman talked to me about making decisions and then telling, rather than asking, her family about those decisions and rarely talking to her father because "he didn't do enough listening" when she was young. In that moment, I realized that my objections to authority aren’t actually a disdain for authority; they are a general dislike and distrust of men in those positions. I’m comfortable if the man doesn’t behave like a prototypical alpha, but rebel instantly if I witness chest-puffing, blustery superiority. This is well-documented in my choices of male friends throughout my adult life.

This was quite the revelation for me. I had always assumed that I just don’t like to be told what to do. Since I was a small child, I have been reminded that I’m stubborn and too sensitive to criticism. Well, no, although those things are likely true, that’s not the root of my problem. In fact, I perform remarkably well under the tutelage or supervision of a strong woman who makes space for other women or a man who does the same. I am not a man-hater. I am a person who really does believe in justice and opportunity for all and gets really cranky when a powerful person—still too often a man—rests on awarded or inherent power without working to make space for others.

As I wrestle with the final year of my doctoral studies, this improved understanding of my strong need to stand up for others and to challenge authority will make me think a little more clearly about my goals. Am I really making things better or am I just being obstinate? It won’t stop me from speaking out. In fact, I’ll likely speak up more, but my objections will be more focused. Regardless of changes in the way I handle authority, this revelation will change my research. Understanding myself improves my understanding of others. Women of the world, I’m here for you.