According to Forbes, women must obtain an advanced degree to earn as much as men for the same work. While women account for fifty-six percent of all college students in the US, they are paid eighty cents to men’s dollar for performing the same job after they graduate. The pay disparities are even greater for women of color. Women in the US are not only earning higher degrees for the same pay, but they also often face doubt about their skills compared to men both in school and at work.
The conversation went downhill very quickly. “I don’t know if I would be comfortable with you working for a female pastor.” Trying to avoid (yet another) debate about women pastors, I retorted: “Well the incoming pastor is male.” “It’s the principle,” my significant other threw back. Thankfully, the awkward exchange ended, and we shifted to another topic.
“So, are you a student here too?” asked the young IT worker I called to fix my office computer. I smiled, wondering how the student missed my name on the office door, or the row of diplomas framed on the wall. “No, I’m a professor here.” Sexism against women in college undoubtedly happens, but sexism against female college faculty is perhaps more often overlooked. As a thirtysomething woman professor at a Christian university, I have a unique perspective on sexism in higher education.
I so wish I could have told those bright young women about the challenges they will face as they enter their careers and endeavor to find satisfaction in their work and lives. I did not want to be that person, warning optimistic young women about future obstacles—and that the odds of success are ever stacked against them. I fear, though, that if we don’t have open conversations about workplace and cultural challenges, if we don’t call out hurdles by name, we set women up for failure when they enter the workplace.
As my classmates in my current seminary courses would no doubt be shocked to learn, I was once the quiet student in the class. In fact, I was the stereotypical quiet young woman: I sat in the front row, rarely skipped, took detailed notes, and received consistently good grades. But I almost never volunteered my opinion, preferring to contribute only when asked or when I was certain of my answer.
A recent study suggested that, though casual sex is more accepted than ever, loneliness is too. Twenty-seven percent of Americans feel isolated, but loneliness is far worse among eighteen to twenty-two year-olds, followed by Millennials. The least lonely were Americans aged seventy-two and older—those having fewer sexual encounters.
Recently, I was invited to participate in a panel on singleness at a Christian conference. I shared my experience as a single woman pastor and how single clergy can feel isolated in a church culture where marriage is the default. It was the first time since university that I had an honest, direct, public conversation about singleness in the church.
David Hart recounts his personal experiences with women facing gender inequality, explores his male privilege, and calls men to stand with women and fight for equality, humanity, and inclusion in the business and leadership of the church.
Training for a marathon, becoming in tune to the world around him and his body, made Tim "[think] often of Paul’s metaphor of the church as a body. We, too, are interconnected in ways we rarely see or understand. Weak theology or a bad habit by one body part can cause crippling pain for another—so much that the entire body is hobbled. Our treatment of women (often reinforced by the church) is one example."
In a world where the lines between truth and fiction have become blurred, it is more important than ever that we treat our theology and our faith with the utmost respect. That means learning about and from women, using gender-accurate language, and remembering the legacy of faithful men and women. This is not fake news, but good news.