I made it back to Louisville last night around 12:45 am, after a two-hour layover in Las Vegas (and what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, so I'll leave you guessing as to how I spent my time there). I worked through most of my time on the ground, actually, and then read on the plane. Right now I'm reading Anna Fels' Necessary Dreams: Ambition in Women's Changing Lives. The following statement may sound dorky, but... it is as much a page-turner as a non-fiction psychology book can be.

I still have about 75 pages to go, but thus far Fels argues that one of the primary human drives is a need for recognition, and one of the primary human pleasures is mastery over a skill or subject. This need for recognition and approval, when combined with mastery, creates ambition (so things like physical appearance don't count, simply because there is very little that hard work and learning can do to improve certain traits).

Most of the previous social barriers that prevented women from attaining mastery over a skill are now gone-- women can train to be everything from trapeze artists to neurosurgeons. Then why, Fels asks, do so many women end up giving up their youthful ambitions? And why do the women who achieve public recognition for their work often shy away from taking credit or pleasure in the acclaim? For Fels, our society's lack of recognition of women is the key.

She essentially assembles a mountain of (rather depressing) research from psychology, sociology, and the business world to show that women actually do receive less recognition and encouragement from those around them when they are high achievers. One study she quotes, published in the Harvard Education Letter, says that in a high school math class, "although the girls studying geometry took more initiative in class, teachers directed most of their questions and comments to boys and more often encouraged boys to persist when they answered incorrectly" (102). From these and other examples that range from preschool to the working world, Fels concludes that "the entire texture of women's lives is permeated with small events of nonrecognition" (104).

Now, there will probably be many of you out there saying, "I don't feel like I'm not getting recognized." Personally, I feel like I've always been affirmed by my teachers and employers. When I stop and think about it, though, I'm usually in settings dominated by women. My Camp Fire group in elementary school was all girls. Many of my high school classes had majority of girls. Women made up about 80% of my college English classes. And of course, now I work in Women's Ministries for the church. If women really do receive less recognition in situations where they are working with men, perhaps my relative ease in finding affirmation comes more from my selection of environments than anything else.

So far in reading, I've wondered how we can reinvent social structures that deny women recognition that is essential to their psychological well-being. How can we overcome those extremely subtle and pervasive instances of nonrecognition, especially when there is no identifiable act of prejudice we can work to overcome? I'll read on to find out what Anna Fels says, but I'd be interested to hear your perspectives.

Also, what implications does this idea of perpetual nonrecognition have for our faith? It is intriguing, particularly considering that the Bible is a text with several instances of nonrecognition for women (remember all the unnamed women in Scripture?). But how does Jesus, who gave affirmation to women throughout his ministry on earth, model a new way for us as Christians to affirm and recognize women for their accomplishments?

"But the Lord answered her, 'Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her." --Luke 10:41-42

Kelsey