The first time I realized that being a girl was different than the boys was when I was in fourth grade.  If I remember right, that made me around 10?  11? 

Growing up, I had a big group of mixed friends.  I liked the games, toys, and kids in both sides of the fence pretty equally, and never really thought much about any differences other than for whatever reason the other girls and I weren't allowed to run around topless in the summer like the boys, even though we all looked the same there, and I knew the differences on the bottom, we all shared.  Kids get curious, and they have seen the other options in most cases. 

Then fourth grade hit, and the music teacher came in for glee club recruitment.  We had a choice of glee club or study hall in the classroom with a teacher.  I hated music class most days.  Because I hate singing.  I really really hate to sing.  I have a really unpleasant singing voice (and really odd speaking one) and always have.  My throat hurts when I sing.  I really dislike it.  So of course, I didn't raise my hand.  I was the ONLY girl (apparently in the history of that school, not just in my class) to not raise her hand, and about 7 of the boys also didn't.  I got taken out to the hallway by my teacher, and he tried to strongarm me into joining.  I refused.  The music teacher joined him, I still refused.  I got sent to the freakin' principal's office, with all three adults pressuring me to join, and threatening to call my parents.  It was early in the year, so safe to say, I WAS TEN YEARS OLD.  I caved.  I wish, going back, I could tell myself not to, it did set a pattern of caving to things like this, and that was hard to break later, but I was ten and frightened by the pressuring adults.   I wish I could whisper in that little girl's ear "Remind them they taught you that everyone is free to make choices and pursue happiness, and you are free to not sing!"  But I can't, and I joined the glee club.  I lip synched, even though I didn't know what it was called then.  I was bored outta my mind and miserable, always in trouble for moving around to amuse myself.  But most of all I hated being there every minute.  Just being there reminded me I had no power over even small things in my life.

But there was one thing I realized that day aside from the fact that it was apparently critically important that I stand on that stage and do next to nothing.  And it was that not ONE of boys even got asked a second time if they were sure.  Not one.  And that really upset me, and it scared me, and I didn't know why.  I didn't know why the boys weren't put through that, and I knew it was unfair, but I didn't know why it SCARED me that that they weren't. 

It wouldn't be until fifth grade, when the music teacher was annoyed that we weren't getting something right in practice and she yelled at us "Anyone who doesn't want to be here you know where the door is!" and I bolted to the sound of her yelling "Not you <Lastname>".  But it was too late, I had my shot at getting out of this and I took it.  And I ran to my classroom.  I was kind of close to my fifth grade teacher, she was actually the twin sister of my third grade teacher from another school, and after a week of confusion in my first days in fifth grade, we got on.  Apparently her sister said I was a nice student.     So when I arrived at the classroom she asked why I was there and why I was upset, and I told her, and she sorta sighed and explained some of what had happened.  That the world expected all girls to be the same, and that by not wanting to do something that was expected, people would try to force me.  She then talked about the women who stood up for voting rights, Rosa Parks, and other figures I forget now and explained to me that I didn't have to, but it would take a lot of courage to say no and stick to it, and I should practice learning that.  All people being equal was a lie in history lessons.  One of the boys sat with me and told me it was the same for him, not about singing but about other things, because he was black.  I was equally horrified for him.

It wasn't the last lesson I'd ever learn about the world being determined to force a difference on men and women or people from different races and their choices in society, but as they say, you always remember that first one, whether it was a good first like that first love or a horrible one like this.  I remember that time often, especially lately when someone tagged my name in a photo posted by that teacher and I saw him collecting praise from a lot of students.  I blocked him and moved on, but I will always remember he was the first person who took away my choices solely because I was female. 

I think sometimes talking to that boy, and learning it was the same feelings for him even if the details are different, are why I never really joined the 'revenge on men' stuff some of the really crazy feminists pull.  I don't need revenge, it won't change the past, I just want to be free to make my choices by skills, talents, interest, and ability to engage in the option, and not by my gender, race, or any other classification.  As much as we like to tout freedom for all in America, none of us really are, until we all start just looking around at everyone and seeing other human beings.  Meh.