On Women in Magic

Engineering classes are not the only important aspect of my life where I make up the small end of the ratio.  I also play Magic: the Gathering semi-competitively, attending tournaments and sealed events when time and money allow.  Today I'd like to touch on women in Magic.

It is common for me, especially in the tiny town where I grew up, to enter a venue for a Magic tournament and be either the entirety or one-half of the female representation out of 15 to 20 competitors. And when I enter a venue I haven't been to before or play an opponent who has never met me, I am invariably asked some form of the same question: "Is this your first time playing?"  The frequency of this question baffles me.  I have well-worn card sleeves on my deck, a playmat, a handmade dicebag full to the brim, and have memorized my DCI number - not exactly the trappings of someone just entering the game.

These players are trying to be polite.  They are interested in giving me a good impression, so that I return, and they have decided to err on the side of safety - figuring the assumption that I don't know how to play and am using a borrowed deck with borrowed accessories is a safe one.  Without a second thought, they have tagged me as a player's girlfriend - convinced into trying the game in order to make her boyfriend happy.

I can't even be personally offended.  I try very hard to present myself as someone who is a nerd of her own accord, but it is an uphill battle.  The fact remains that the vast majority of females at my level of competitiveness are playing because their boyfriend got them into it, and don't care enough about the game to put forth real effort.

But one must wonder - what about the girls who started playing Magic competitively and did care?  Where are they in this picture?  In over a year's worth of casual tournaments, in a significant number of cities, and a few hundred participants, the number of girls I have met who play competitively for themselves could be tallied on one hand.    This number combined with the number of seriously competitive girls who started playing because of a significant other but continue for themselves is barely higher.

The ratio of males who play at my level to females who play at my level, in my experience, has been astronomically higher than any male to female ratio I have encountered elsewhere.  Why are there so few women who take Magic seriously?  Is it rudeness? I don't think so - assholes as Magic players generally are, I have not seen many instances of outright verbal sexism.  Harassment?  Maybe - a player once gave himself a good fondling with my coffee to-go cup at a midnight release, and I can't say the experience was a fun one.  In general, the mood of these men generally reflects that they aren't offended by that sort of 'man humor,' and a lady can tell.

Mostly, though, I think it the reason is a subtle one.  Magic players never, ever, ever regard a female opponent as a threat until they have been proven otherwise.  They play against us casually, offering us friendly mulligans and do-overs, confident that they can win no matter how much of a handicap we are given.  They don't even try to hide that their first opinion of a woman across the table from them is "easy win," and it takes the rug from under us ladies before we can even fully stand.  A woman participating in entry-level competitive Magic is instantly dismissed, and she can tell - she is thrust into a negative, hostile environment and must fight tooth and nail to prove herself.

This is appropriate here.

Does she have inspiration, should she look to the stars?  Unfortunately, not really - though there are a large number of developers and designers at Wizards, they are largely in the shadows.  No woman has ever top-eighted a Pro Tour.  Though women occasionally rank or finish first in Nationals and Grand Prix, they are few and far between.  No woman has reached the quasi-household-name status of greats like LSV or Chapin.  Highly-publicized all-female Magic teams like the Mana Girls, while they do exist, are gimmicky at best.

The Mana Girls, complete with matching uniforms. Cute.

So, I believe that very question that I am asked, so often and so strangely - "Is this your first time?" - is a lot of what is wrong with gender equality in Magic.  To my male readers, I bequeath you to watch your own behavior.  Give us the benefit of the doubt.  Though it sounds the same, and indeed accomplishes the same answer, I encourage you instead to ask along the lines of "How long have you been playing?" or "How do you usually do at these things?"  We'll tell you if we're new - but we don't need you to assume it. Allow us to set our own first impression to you, at whatever play level we truly are, instead of making one for us.

"Wouldn't Bang"

 

I spend most of my time on the Internet, between working at my IT help desk job, perusing how-tos at home, and talking to my far-flung friends and family.  As such, I have developed a fondness for memes of all kind (I'm on a big Advice Animals kick right now).  I have a pretty good sense of humor, and am not easily offended, but I have noticed a trend that is disheartening to me: Wouldn't Bang.

It's cute on the outside - the socially helpless Dweller cites a meaningless flaw as a reason not to have sex with a woman who, let's face it, would never even offer.  The audience has a good laugh because it's obvious that, if it were offered, the Dweller would bang, and in a heartbeat.  These are generally harmless, citing minor flaws in appearance or preference.  However, some speak more deeply, listing failings in nerdiness or technical knowledge - take the example above.

I am a nerd girl.  I use Linux as my sole operating system (not even on a dual boot).  I program, and enjoy it.  I own a PS2, PS3 (original, fully backwards-compatible 20GB with a 500GB hard drive upgrade), Xbox 360, and (hacked) PSP.  I cosplay, Joss is my master now, xkcd is my favorite webcomic, and I play Magic: the Gathering competitively.  By my count, that's five genres of nerdiness thus far - let's go ahead and add that I'm a computer engineering major and that I started working in IT when I was a junior in high school, at which time I was also a percussionist in the band.  Convinced?

These are the types of nerd I am - computer, gaming, Magic, Whedonite, band, anime, engineering.  I am not, however, the following types of nerd: DC, Marvel, Star Trek, Star Wars, WoW, chess... the list goes on.  The point I am trying to make is thus: not everyone is a polymath.  I engage in more genres of nerdery than most people I know - that's how I choose to broaden my horizons - but there remain gaps in my knowledge.

Keeping this in mind, let's look at the following scenario.  A woman is conversing with a man about Linux, a field in which she has much experience.  She makes educated arguments and, in general, displays a working knowledge of the subject matter.  The subject then shifts to computer hardware, and the woman shows again that she knows what she's talking about.  It's obvious that she is intelligent.  Let the conversation take a sudden turn to comics - the man asks her favorite character, and she names Power Girl, making a comment wondering whether Green Lantern would appear as a crossover in a Power Girl film.

She thinks Power Girl is a Marvel creation?

Wouldn't bang.

This woman is trying to create an impression of herself as a knowledgeable nerd, on equal ground with the men around her.  With one step into unfamiliar territory, she has destroyed her work.  Held to incredible standards, she has made a mistake, and her entire reputation has suffered.

A man in the same situation? "Sorry bro, I don't read comics - I got laid in high school instead!" No harm done.

As a female in a male-dominated area, I feel a great pressure.  Don't screw up, or you'll embarrass your entire half of the human race.  Don't make the rest of us look bad.  Make a mistake and give all women a bad name among these men.  "Wouldn't Bang" concerns me because it is an enforcement of these pressures.  Sure, she may be the top programmer in my class, but she hasn't seen Dr. Who?  Wouldn't bang.  So she can quote from any issue of Batman ever written, but she runs Windows?  Wouldn't bang.

I have acute perfectionism forced upon me by my surroundings.  It is one thing to choose yourself held to unattainable standards; that is called drive.  But to have these same standards externally placed on you, when others may choose?  That, readers, is called inequality.