I was driving. Some miraculous force in my feminine nature gave me the strength to press the accelerator. Heaven forbid I even possessed the power to turn the wheel. But when I did, I slowly approached a construction zone. The roadway, decorated with an inventive arrangement of neon orange cones, narrowed as my grip on the wheel tightened. I kept my eyes peeled, aware of my precarious surroundings. I noticed a sign. It was a standard and temporary reminder of the presence of roadwork. Nevertheless, the orange octagon seized my attention. The black and bold words read, “Men Working”. For the first few seconds, I thought nothing of it, and everyone around me seemed content with the assurance that “men” were working for the indispensable safety of our streets. As I continued my journey through the maze of cones, a feminist bell reverberated within me. It originated in the receptors of my brain and powerfully made its way to the pit of my stomach. “Men Working”. I quickly and somewhat unwillingly drew the conclusion that men assumed most positions in the construction workforce. I just as quickly asked myself, “What about women?”


A man’s inherent strength--believed to be greater than any women’s—gives him an unfair advantage in the construction job market and generates discrimination in the every expanse of our society. The daring sign in the middle of the street, with an influence beyond all other antifeminist devices, blatantly supports this discrimination. There exists a widespread misconception, rooted in long-standing historic tradition, through which women are labeled as incapable of carrying out the laborious efforts of men. And those unique women, now and in history, who devote themselves to the arduous jobs in masculine livelihoods receive little recognition due to the ignorance and embarrassment of their male counterparts. Men have always managed the job market, women lagging behind in both income and position. Except, the respect for women seems to be growing; the universal knowledge of our intelligence seems to be blossoming. Why then, do signs (literally) of gender prejudice still exist? Our toughness and might should not be determined by an inborn, unalterable gender. I know that women assembled the very fighter planes that transported our men toward victory in World War II, and I also know that women are constructing the solid foundations of our modern society. The goal must be to correct men’s prejudices through conviction in the capability of our feminine qualities. We must mold ourselves into society, so the orange sign and black print no longer defines us. We define us.

My grip on the wheel loosened while the construction site disappeared in my rearview mirror, but the orange octagon never disappeared, and the thick words played over and over in my head—a constant reminder. “Men Working”.