The ‘ghetto’ of women’s writing

Even as the banner of equal opportunities draws increasing numbers into its fold, professional women around the world say that they are likely to reach the glass ceiling sooner than their male colleagues because of conscious and unconscious gender stereotyping. Another grumble is that women end up having to demonstrate more professional aggression and ambition than men because they have to counter an unconscious, ingrained perception that women are by nature ‘soft’ and malleable — characteristics that have no place in a cut-throat professional world.

Such criticisms have also been referred to by women in journalism, such as prominent features writer and columnist Zoe Heller who warns about what she calls the “ghetto of women’s writing.”

Heller’s ghetto is divided into three categories: the good-humoured, ‘home-front’ column where women write in a jolly, eye-rolling sort of way about their accident-prone kids or lazy husbands; the stern comment piece in which public affairs are examined from an admonitory, feminist point of view; and the daffy ‘girl’ piece where a youngish, single female confides the vagaries of her life.

The problem, according to Heller, lies in the traditionally male-dominated field of journalism’s attempt to ascribe areas of female interest. This means, for example, that a female columnist is not only expected to have a stance on but is even bound to write about matters related to women, such as abortion rights.

“The problem with writing ‘as a woman’ is not just that you are inevitably burdened with the world’s views on how you should represent your sex,” she writes, but that the (mostly male) editors will hire women to write ‘as a woman’, ie from a female perspective. The danger is that “you are required to pretend that your femaleness is all — that every one of your opinions is refracted through the lens of gender.”

Petronella Wyatt, another well-known UK journalist, comments that for many female journalists early dreams of, say, political reporting, are aborted simply because in the editors’ eyes, their physical appearance deems them better suited to other journalistic tasks. “Being a certain sort of female journalist can be a blessing and a curse,” she writes. “A blessing because it undoubtedly opens doors; a curse because the doors frequently open on to a cul-de-sac.”

Oddly enough, such criticisms of indirect gender discrimination cannot be levelled against journalism in Pakistan — “oddly,” because the country’s record in this regard is otherwise breathtakingly poor. While journalism here as elsewhere remains a male-dominated field, reporters and editors are seen as precisely that — their gender is immaterial. If there is any difference at all, I would argue that being a female journalist in Pakistan is likely to give you something of an edge, partly because of novelty value (which leads, for example, to interviewees being unprepared for a well thought out line of questioning) and partly because hoary old editors are likely to be a little more supportive.

Over the years, a fair number of women have risen to top positions in the newspapers and show similar potential on television. To be sure, there are some areas where women have not starred, such as crime reporting. However, this is not due to their being prevented or discouraged; rather, it is a choice made by female journalists themselves, put off perhaps by the odd working hours, the shady company of cops and robbers and the sheer physical toll exacted by crime reporting.

Meanwhile, quite a few female journalists highlight women’s issues such as maternal health or girls’ education. Again, this is a choice they have made, one to which they have every right — they have not been pushed into Zoe Heller’s ghetto of women’s writing.

In recent years, the number of women writing ‘as women’ has increased in Pakistan. This is to the good and helps increase the scope of journalism. However, women must be careful that they don’t end up ghettoising themselves. The country’s female journalists must remain aware that refracting opinions through the lens of gender is a choice, not a necessity or a default setting.

— hmumtaz@dawn.com