I remember when I was 6 and the next door neighbor boy I played with was daring me to do something out in the wood (can’t remember what) and he asked, “Are you a man or a mouse?” I wanted to say I was a girl or woman or make some kind of snappy comeback, but at the same time I felt like his asking me this was a sign he had completely gotten past the stigma of “playing with a girl” which had hovered over us since the beginning. So of course I had to say, “A man!” It was the right answer.

Linguist, philosopher, lover of history, wordhound, 21 year New Yorker, searching for meaning in the universe

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