Teachers often asked in elementary school, “Would some of our strong boys be willing to lend a hand and help lift these chairs onto the table?” 

They never seemed to consider that girls might just be as capable. 

Reflecting back, while I didn’t comprehend this as a kid, each time those words were spoken, someone drew an invisible line, dividing young children into categories based on outdated stereotypes rather than individual abilities. 

Despite this, I was eager to prove my worth and strength to older generations, especially my teachers.

Whenever a boy in my class received an “A,” he was met with enthusiastic praise.

“I’m so proud of you,” the teacher would boast. “Good job!”. 

His achievement was a delightful surprise, worthy of celebration. 

But when I received an “A,” it seemed to just be fulfilling an expectation. The response was often a simple nod or a brief acknowledgment that lacked the warmth and encouragement given to my male peers.

This difference in recognition reinforced the idea that as a woman my accomplishments were less impressive.

 It felt as though my hard work and dedication were taken for granted, as if academic success was something I was supposed to achieve effortlessly. 

Academic validation was something I craved when I was younger. That longing has persisted into my high school years. Each grade and assignment feels like a stepping stone toward proving that I am just as capable as my male classmates. 

But often I find discrimination from my classmates as well. 

In group projects, my ideas are often dismissed or overshadowed by the boys, who usually take the leadership role in the group. It is as if my contributions are less valuable, not because of the content, but rather than who they come from.

Yet the constant lack of enthusiastic recognition from teachers placed doubt in my mind, whispering that no matter how hard I worked, I would never be enough to break through the misogynistic expectations set for me.

This internal struggle pushes me to strive for perfection, hoping that if I achieve enough, the praise will finally come.

During gym class, the divide becomes even more apparent. 

Boys dominate the sports field, often excluding girls and pushing us to the sidelines. And when I try to join in, I am met with skepticism or comments suggesting that I’m not strong or fast enough. 

These interactions reinforce the idea that certain activities are reserved for boys, while girls are expected to occupy more passive roles.

Most young girls are met with teasing and bullying from the boys in the class. 

“Well, if he’s teasing you, you know it probably means he has a crush on you,” teachers or parents often say whenever this is brought up.  

This sets up an idea that bullying is an acceptable way to show affection, normalizing toxic masculinity and perverting the perception of love and respect by young people. 

This mindset can lead to self-esteem issues, set back emotional intelligence and perpetuate harmful gender stereotypes, affecting personal relationships and professional dynamics. 

As a young girl, I experienced this firsthand. I vividly remember feeling confused and hurt when a boy in my class constantly pulled my hair and called me names. When I told my teacher, she brushed it off with a smile, saying he probably liked me, leaving me to question my worth and struggling to understand healthy relationships.

But I refuse to let these attitudes define me. 

Instead, they fuel my determination to prove myself and challenge gender biases. 

I seek out opportunities to excel in subjects typically dominated by boys and participate in activities that defy gender norms. Along the way, I have found friends among my peers who share similar experiences, and together we support each other in breaking down these barriers.

These experiences taught me resilience and the importance of standing up against discrimination. They fuel my determination to advocate for a more inclusive environment where everyone is valued for their unique contributions regardless of gender.

As I continue through high school and beyond, I’m committed to fostering equality and respect among my peers. By focusing on personal growth and making a difference in the world around me, I’ve found a sense of empowerment that goes past the need for constant approval, one that drives me to create change not just for myself but for future generations of girls who deserve to be seen and heard for their true potential.

This article originally appeared in the Spring 2025 print edition.