Students Manage Dietary Restrictions On Campus

On a Tuesday afternoon, just in time for lunch, hundreds of ravenous students begin packing in the chairs and booths of one of Pitt’s two dining halls, the Eatery at Towers. Like its name suggests, the large cafeteria resides in the basement of Litchfield Towers, the school’s infamous triplet set of cylindrical dorm buildings.

Nala Gallaher, a freshman majoring in communications, often has trouble finding a viable food option fit for her dietary needs. Today, though, luckily, she stumbles upon a favorable station serving chicken gumbo with okra and sausage.

The dish looks promising, but the plaque above the platter shows no specifications regarding what even makes up the sausage part of the meal. So Gallaher gets eye-level with the food, takes a good look at the sausage’s complexion, and concludes that it likely contains chicken meat.

Since beef and pork have never been included in Gallaher’s diet before, she must take extra care in assuring that certain foods, such as sausage, only contain chicken or turkey-based meat.

“I get sick if any beef or pork comes in contact with my stomach,” Gallaher says. “I can’t have chicken or turkey if it’s been cooked on the same grill or pan as the meat that I don’t eat.”

Usually, Gallaher reads the daily menu from an app on her phone with easily accessible nutrition information for any students who might need it. But today, the app remains stuck on the loading screen for what feels like hours.

Still feeling like she made the correct observations, Gallaher grabs a plate anyway and distracts herself from not truly knowing what the sausage contains. She finds a comfortable table and sits down, ready for what looks and sounds like an enjoyable, safe meal.

Her phone finishes loading before she takes her first bite, and she finds out the sausage contains andouille meat instead of chicken. She cannot eat the dish after all, and must go somewhere else for lunch.

 

Almost 30,000 undergraduate students call Pitt their home. Each of these students comes from a different background with their own individual food restrictions.

Some students may have involuntary allergies or intolerances, such as celiac disease, or voluntary restrictions, such as vegetarianism. Others may have restraints for personal, religious, or miscellaneous reasons.

According to a 2014 Food Engineering article written by Jeremy Gerrard, approximately 60 percent of Americans say that they monitor or restrict the consumption of at least one nutritional component in their diet. Putting this into perspective, a 2022 Deals on Health article posted by Darko Jacimovic states that the sales of meat alternative dishes in American restaurants just recently jumped by 268 percent.

Public universities, let alone larger ones like Pitt, not only require full awareness of these different dietary restrictions, but additional accommodations in their dining halls that fulfill the unique demands of each and every student. How do Pitt’s dining halls accommodate dietary restrictions, and do they ensure proper quality control (avoid cross-contamination) of various ingredients?

Popular off-campus restaurants near Pitt also need special dietary arrangements so all of their guests stay comfortable and business continues booming. What do off-campus dining facilities offer for people with dietary restrictions, if anything?

A 2019 study from Toast concluded that 31 percent of restaurants update their menu on a monthly basis. The same study also showed that 24 percent of restaurants update their menu seasonally.

Yet another study done in 2014 by SpenDifference revealed that 76 percent of respondents didn’t plan on having any type of organic food served in their restaurants.

Students with dietary restrictions inevitably struggle with the college lifestyle, and despite any attempts that Pitt makes at suiting their needs, they may still feel as though they have little to no options around campus. What options do they have, what choices do they make, and do these choices meet their needs? How do these restrictions affect their everyday lives?

The International Food Information Council Foundation showed in 2018 that within a year, people with different specific diets increased from about 14 percent to 36 percent (nearly a 22 percent increase). In 2019, Technomic College and the University Consumer Trend Report found that about 11 percent of college students have some sort of food allergy or restraint.

“I do find that I have to choose wisely on where I want to eat,” Gallaher says. “I’m forced to avoid certain restaurants on campus, and only gravitate toward some that I know can accommodate me.”

According to statistics posted by Deals on Health, about 18 million people in the United States are gluten-sensitive, but only 26 percent of American restaurants offer gluten-free dishes on their menus.

 

Tanya Babbar, a sophomore English writing major at Pitt, says that having celiac disease requires much more consideration before deciding on a meal. She found out she had the disease just last year from a sickness, and now gets sick if she ingests gluten at all.

            “Sometimes, I go to Chipotle, and Panera has some gluten-free options, but as much as I love their soup, it can get pricey,” Babbar says. “Same thing with Noodles & Company: it’s great that they have gluten-free options, but it’s often not worth dropping 10 bucks for.”

Although dishes can change accordingly for people with gluten sensitivities, the price usually goes up since the dish requires alterations. Therefore, a dish already free from gluten without any further alterations will likely cost less.

            “It’s not worth it, essentially,” Babbar says. “Sometimes, I splurge on gluten-free Oreos, but for the most part, I try to stick to foods that are already gluten-free to save money.”

            Babbar says that after having a meal plan last year, as all freshmen must, she chose against one this year. She says she feels as though she has no control over her food options when dining with a meal plan.

            She says she is of Desi descent, and since most Desi recipes are already rice-based, she makes few accommodations when cooking for herself.

            “The Eatery and the Perch do a lot of great things for allergens, but I would personally rather be in control of cooking,” Babbar says. “I just keep gluten-free snacks at home, like yogurt and popcorn, and for meals, I share an instant pot with my roommates and can make a lot of rice-based foods.”

 

Meg M. Mayer-Costa, a registered dietician working in the Department of Sports Medicine and Nutrition at Pitt, agrees that the costs of certain foods made special for people with dietary restrictions, specifically gluten sensitivities, cost more than naturally restriction-safe foods.

“Some starches that are made to be gluten-free (breads, pretzels, etc.) may be more costly, but there are many other starches (potatoes, legumes, etc.) that are naturally gluten-free and easily found, plus cost appropriate,” Mayer-Costa says. “I too will help that student be aware of a whole host of other food groups that are gluten-free to balance their diet and support their needs.”

Since one of Mayer-Costa’s top priorities within her job includes making sure students have the correct resources for successful and healthy living, she says educating students of their options plays a big role in her advising.

“All of my student assessments include a thorough examination of the individual’s food environment and food security,” Mayer-Costa says. “If any issue impairs their ability to locate foods, myself or colleagues will work to educate the student of the opportunities that they may have not known about before.”

Mayer-Costa says that sometimes, students have multiple dietary restrictions at once and, especially with a meal plan, figuring out solutions for their needs can quickly become tricky. Mayer-Costa says this is why working with Registered Dietician Lindsay Wilson is of profound importance.

“She is most connected to the inner workings of all of the University dining halls, and has firsthand knowledge of ingredients and preparation methods to assist students in making choices,” Mayer-Costa says.

 

Lindsay Wilson, Pitt’s registered campus dietician, also affiliated with Compass Group and Chartwells Higher Education, says Pitt tries its hardest and safest when accommodating the needs of students with dietary restrictions. The Eatery, along with Pitt’s second dining hall, the Perch, both contain different options for students from all sorts of varying dietary backgrounds.

Compass Group, Pitt’s dining contractor, is a British multinational contract food service company. Chartwells Higher Education specializes in the on-campus dining experiences of college students around America and partners with Compass Group at Pitt campuses.

            Wilson says that all of the beef served in the two dining halls source from Jubilee Hilltop Ranch, a local farm that offers certified Halal beef. Students can also find this beef at PA Taco Co. and True Burger, both located at the Schenley Cafe (the cafeteria under the William Pitt Union). This does not mean every location on Pitt’s campus serves certified Halal beef.

            The Kosher Plate, a food station located in Litchfield Towers, offers friendly food options with a rotating menu. Wilson says that all items served at this location must first be approved by a mashgiach. A mashgiach is a person who oversees food production in ensuring that everything produced primarily for the Jewish religion meets the standards of a general Kosher diet.

            All Pitt staff who handle food must have a current and updated ServSafe Food Handlers certification. The ServSafe Food Handlers certification is a set of training and assessments administered by the National Restaurant Association.

Wilson also says that all staff members annually complete two training sessions that involve properly handling foods for students with food allergies and other restrictions.

            Chartwells specifically made the sessions, but they are FARECheck certified training programs. FARECheck was developed by Food Allergy Research and Education, and helps schools across America provide safe food options for all of their students.

            Pitt’s dining halls provide a variety of vegetarian and vegan meals daily, Wilson says, alongside Flourish, an allergen-friendly dining concept at the Eatery.

Wilson says that Flourish features dishes containing minimal ingredients simply seasoned and prepared from scratch by trained culinary professionals. She says the meals at this station avoid gluten along with the top nine food allergens: peanuts, tree nuts, fish, shellfish, wheat, soy, dairy, eggs, and sesame.

Some meals served here include vegan and gluten-free lentil potato curry, roasted cauliflower, and various salads.

“By focusing on single-ingredient foods and more scratch cooking, we can better control the avoidance of allergens,” Wilson says. “Preparation areas look different across campus depending on the dining outlet, but we have pretty standardized food service grade kitchens.”

Additionally, Wilson says workers at the Flourish station complete extra annual required training specifically for that station. The training reinforces the standards for proper food handling, and she conducts random auditing of the station using allergen protein testing kits in case any potential presence of allergens exists in the food.

 

            But Gallaher says the Eatery can still use some more inclusivity when accommodating students with dietary restrictions. She says she usually ends up eating the same food items on campus repetitively, such as pizza or cookies.

            “I try to plan a little ahead with eating at the Eatery as the menu is subject to change, and I get caught off guard with the foods that they have,” Gallaher says. “The Eatery sometimes doesn’t have the menu item that they listed on their website earlier in the day, so I’m forced with the same meals I already ate during the week.”

            Gallaher also says she thinks the Eatery could improve if it expanded the ways it serves its ingredients. She says that the types of dishes she eats at the Eatery feel limited with their preparations.

            “There’s only so much you can do with chicken and turkey,” Gallaher says. “I usually just end up having chicken tenders, or sometimes marinated chicken if it’s an option.”

 

            Wilson says that nutrition information, although normally kept as current as possible, can still change suddenly.

“Products may change without our knowledge, and the menu items are prepared in close proximity to other ingredients that may result in cross-contact ingredients not listed on our website, including allergens,” Wilson says. “It is recommended that all students with food restrictions reach out to me, as self-management of their diet may be possible through utilization of existing dining options and resources.”

            Overall, though, Wilson says that Pitt takes food safety procedures very seriously. She says that a full-time quality assurance supervisor even oversees the food safety program.

            The supervisor conducts food safety training with all new hires. He also ensures that all staff currently have their proper certifications.

Wilson says staff receive a monthly newsletter written by the supervisor, containing ingredient changes, menu updates, and announcements. They also attend monthly meetings and training sessions with representatives from each dining unit across campus, all organized by the supervisor himself.

Finally, Wilson says, the supervisor walks through each unit during health department inspections and takes any needed corrective actions following the audit. He additionally conducts his own audits of Pitt’s dining locations for more reinforcement.

 

Tracy Youkers works for the Eat’n Park Hospitality Group and manages the Porch at Schenley, one of Pitt’s more popular off-campus restaurants for students. The Porch serves a wide variety of foods, such as sandwiches, salads, pizza, wings, and fish. With a wide menu such as this comes even more responsibilities for staff members, including monitoring certain dishes and procedures for the safety of customers with different dietary needs.

            “Our staff is very attentive to customers and their restrictions,” Youkers says. “Gloves are always worn and changed, and we make sure that no cross-contamination ever happens for the safety of our guests.”

            On top of offering a standard assortment of food items, the Porch takes extra pride in selling several substitutes for those who need them, including gluten-free buns and veggie burgers based from sweet potatoes.

“When the guest alerts us of any food allergies or restrictions, we discuss them with our chefs,” Youkers says. “We get complimented a good bit from those with special restrictions because we really try everything we can to make the food as they request it.”

Restriction-friendly meals that the Porch offers include vegan and gluten-free soups, quiche, and shishito pepper tacos.

 

Bailey Hall, a junior architecture major at Pitt, says that being a vegetarian makes her take extra precautions in what food she eats around campus. Without a meal plan, she dines exclusively off-campus.

She grew up vegetarian under her parents’ beliefs, and she still carries the lifestyle with her today.

“I have to be absolutely sure that the food I eat doesn’t have any traces of meat in it,” Hall says. “It makes a lot of things inaccessible for me.”

Yet still, even the most popular restaurants around Pitt’s campus often struggle with providing safe and reliable options for students with dietary restrictions such as vegetarianism, despite how large the university is in itself.

“I like Panera, although some of their soups seem vegetarian but contain chicken stock,” Hall says. “I usually eat little Starbucks wraps and paninis, and there are a lot of local bagel places around here as well that are good.”

But regardless of vegetarian hardships, Hall says that she thinks she generally has a good variety of choices at Pitt when deciding where and what she’ll eat.

“There are actually a lot of options around campus,” Hall says. “I think overall, the world is moving towards having more options for vegetarians!”

My Plants vs Zombies Zombatar

mind

Flute for Thought

This is humiliating.

I started playing the flute in the first grade, when I was about 6 or so, and I actually picked it up pretty quickly.

So much so that I just as quickly became the first person in my entire (albeit, small,) family to ever learn an instrument, at least ever since I’d been born, which sounds pretty cool, but I was a shy kid, so I didn’t play in front of my family members for a while. They were so supportive of me, but the thought of disappointing just one of them scared me more than anything else, even if that was pretty hard to do, in retrospect.

Mom would try to overhear me play sometimes through our shared wall (her bedroom was right next to mine), but I didn’t really like that. And Lily would pretend like she wasn’t sitting right outside of my bedroom door as I opened it up after a long, couple hours practice, so I formed the habit of not playing at home at all unless I knew that I was absolutely, completely by myself.

But that was still pretty often; Mom worked both days and nights ever since Dad fell out of the picture (I don’t remember him), and Lily’s older than me and did lots of afterschool activities, like track and volleyball and cheer and basketball, so she would often just catch a ride with one of her friends and come home much later than everyone else. And Paul’s way older than me, so by the time I even started playing the flute, he had already moved out of the house and attended the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, leaving his room behind for us to use as yet another storage space for more junk (Mom was a hoarder in denial), and it became the True Gal Pal Nation: Mom, me, and Lily.

So, to my family, the flute really just became a thing that I did at school, and I’d probably quit it in a few years anyway, and I’d get busy with different things as I got older that I’d show off more often (sports, academics, friends).

But I knew that Mr. Kibble, the lead band director for my elementary school, saw something special in me, and after a year or two, I must’ve started seeing what he and all of his assistant directors saw too, because I never really did get busy with different things as I got older (sports, academics, friends).

All through elementary school I played the flute; Mr. Kibble put me in the honors band (finally), and I took lessons as part of the curriculum at my school. I practiced everyday during school for an hour, along with practicing even more at home, regardless of if I was alone in the house or not. I enjoyed it so much that I could finally show it off, and I felt like I was the best flute player in my school, by far.

And, maybe for a little, I was right.

The living room (or what we could see of it, anyway) became my stage, and all kinds of different people (Mom, her friends, Lily, and her friends, and sometimes even Paul, too, if he was around) became my audience. I was the star, and everyone loved it (they thought it was cute). This made me like playing the flute even more, naturally.

Early baroque music, specifically Monteverdi, is what I felt most drawn to when I played alone or during school practices, but when I played in the living room, I tended to keep it lighter with well-known, easier songs that, when a child played them, got everyone going, like Beethoven’s “Ode to Joy,” “Take On Me” by A-ha, and the spiciest rendition of “Hot Cross Buns” that you’d probably ever heard.

The crowd always went wild for it.

Eventually, in turn, I tried this newfound trick on my two newest (and only) friends, Anita and Mary, at the beginning of the fourth grade, on the playground during recess. We all became friends because our moms were PTA members. I played songs everyday that I thought were funny, like Offenbach’s “Can Can,” and the Star Wars Theme (I’ll admit, there wasn’t much variety,) to try and make them both laugh.

I thought it was fun for them at first, but they must’ve started getting bored, because they threatened to leave one day to go play foursquare instead.

In bed that night, I thought about what I could do to solve the problem.

The following day, I tried playing them the family approved classics (Beethoven, A-ha, spicy buns, the ones that were supposed to keep the crowd rolling!) but it didn’t work. Anita yawned once or twice, and Mary was nice enough to fake her laughter, but it wasn’t that convincing, not even to a fellow fourth grader.

It was official, they had gotten bored. And they both left soon after to go play foursquare instead. Mom didn’t sacrifice much time to being a PTA member and just sort of abandoned it for paid work, so we all fell out of touch.

Our moms stayed friends on Facebook, though.

The flute never stopped being fun for me.

Middle school I played the flute, high school I played the flute, flute, flute, flute….

I had band classes everyday. I was in the marching band, the concert band, the jazz band (and flutes are, like, never really in jazz bands, so they made a part just for me because I was so determined, and also still the director’s pet, too, thanks to all the good things Mr. Kibble had told the high school ones about me), basically, if it involved playing the flute, I was probably there. And we had a pretty decent music program, so I was especially able to become one with my instrument.

I truly grew to love it, and I didn’t want it any other way. I didn’t have many friends, but I didn’t really care. I just loved what I did, just as it was, and it was all whatever, right? Well.

Mom thought my hobby was cute as a kid, but she quickly turned me away from the idea of implementing the flute into my future. At least once she realized that I had gotten to the age where that’s what I thought about the most (What the hell am I going to do with my life?).

“There’s no money there, darlin’, unless you really strike it big somehow,” Mom said to me once in my junior year.

She’s from a small town on the border of Oklahoma and Texas, so she tends to speak like she still lives there.

“Like, lucky lucky, like some talent agent was out at one of your concerts, lookin’ for a hot young flutist or somethin’, but no talent agent out here lookin’ for a hot young flutist or nothin’, ‘cuz that just don’t happen.”

I looked at her, a little puzzled, then chuckled, “Oh, so you don’t think I’m hot enough Ma?”

“You know that ain’t what I’m sayin’,” Mom didn’t think this was funny.

“I know,” I said, confused. “Where’s this ‘money,’ then, to you?”

“I dunno, like, business,” Mom had her own little Eureka moment. “You should major in business!”

Mom and I got along on most occasions, but we had very different ideas of what ‘money’ meant.

To me, the flute was the money, even if that meant I’d actually never make that much. Not physically, anyway. It’s what I enjoyed, and if that’s what it took to make me happy, then that’s what I felt like made the most sense for me to pursue as a career. Afterall, everyone’s always told me while growing up that it’s the things that make you happy in life that really matter the most.

So why not make a little money from it too, right?

Mom didn’t think like that. She did what she could to make ends meet, but she loved her material possessions. So much so that she stopped caring about how it affected the entire family’s environment and just kept buying. Buying, buying.

To her, it’s her possessions that matter the most in life, and what better way to get more possessions than to save and earn as much money as possible? That’s why she always worked both days and nights.

And somebody still had to fuel that desire to buy every single little tangible thing in the world when she was no longer able to work both days and nights. All so she could continue filling to the brim our already very average-sized house with it all; Like she’d done the whole time, which was why we needed to be concerned about money in the first place!

I ended up thinking about what Mom said, and absorbing it, and I found myself in my senior year taking more business classes instead of music classes: calculus instead of jazz, statistics instead of concert, marketing instead of marching, the like. I tried to rack up my AP credits. I applied to colleges that were further away than what I had initially anticipated wanting to do.

I had less time for the flute.

One day, right after I had finally turned 18, I got my acceptance letter from Rutgers, and with all of the credits I had planned to transfer in, it was actually affordable enough! I celebrated all my hard work paying off with Mom and even Lily (who had already moved out and attended Creighton University at that point, partly on a basketball scholarship) and Paul too, because they were all so excited to see me move somewhere bigger than Nebraska, since none of them ever did it, and I actually began preparing for my future. I’d gotten quite business savvy, told myself and others that it felt like a new beginning, but Mom still didn’t seem all that impressed.

“Look at what Anita and Mary’s moms are postin’ on Facebook, oh, they look like they got some shiny sports scholarships or somethin’,” Mom said once. “That’s how you make the real dough! Do you still talk to ‘em anymore?”

“It’s been years, Ma.”

“Why ain’t you get any scholarships?”

(Maybe because I quit what I was best at to try and support you, and you still don’t act like it’s enough) I never told her how I really felt, at least not effectively, anyway.

I finally graduated high school, spent my summer days saying goodbye to Mom, whose hoarding problem had already started spilling into my emptying room, and Lily and Paul, and I began thinking about where the flute would fall into it all, if at all.

But it wouldn’t (and it didn’t).

And the worst part of it all? I never once stopped thinking about the flute even though I’ve been tricking myself into thinking I had all these years.

I graduated from Rutgers last spring with a business degree, and I’m currently planted in the East Coast, alone.

It’s humiliating.

I listen to early baroque music through my bulky headphones.

Big Girls Don't Cry: Exploring Sexist Themes in a Woman's Life

    Merriam-Webster defines sexism as prejudice or discrimination based on sex, especially against women. I define it as the reason why I am the way that I am today.
    I sat in the front row of my 6th grade health class.
    One day, Mr. Michaels* gave us a short lesson on marriage, as if a bunch of 11 and 12-year-old kids didn’t already know what that was. He provided for everybody in class an example of what marriage looked like.
    He used me for half of it.
    While he doodled on the whiteboard a picture of us holding hands, I felt like I couldn’t sink any further down into my seat. Did Mr. Michaels, a middle aged man, really just pretend he married his 11-year-old female student? In front of her peers, nevertheless?
    It mortified me. And he made matters even worse by pointing out the fact that my cheeks turned bright red.
    “Don’t act like you wouldn’t like it,” he said with the nastiest half-smirk on his face. Like he thought he was cool for picking on me, one of his students, a literal child, like that.
    Hannah Strong, a doctoral student in musicology at Pitt, also plans on getting a certificate in gender, sexuality, and women’s studies. I recently contacted her for any valuable insight she might have regarding these topics of sexism. She shared willingly.
    “I’ve had professors hit on me during class, single me out, or even just stare at my body instead of my face while I talk,” Strong said. “It can be challenging to suss out what is a compliment and what is unusual because of gender biases.”
    Mr. Michaels had no problem singling me out. I couldn’t stand him for the rest of middle school.
    “Honestly, it’s rare not to experience sexism or unconscious gender bias,” Strong said. “I feel it in every aspect of my life.”
    As do I.
    2017 study done by the National Education Union (NEU) and UK Feminista revealed that 66 percent of female students in mixed sex lower secondary schools have experienced or witnessed the use of sexist language in school. 36 percent of those females, compared to only 15 percent of male students, say they personally have been treated differently on account of their gender.
    Mr. Michaels never embarrassed the boys in my class like that. He only embarrassed me like that because I’m a woman.
    We sat in groups of three desks for my 6th grade English class with Mrs. Johnson*.
    One day, we got different seating arrangements, so Jasper McKinley* became a part of my new group.
    I didn’t mind Jasper at first. He seemed friendly enough.
    Until he started testing his luck by touching my knees under my desk pushed right next to his against my will. This went on for multiple days, even after I told him I thought it was weird.
    “Don’t act like you don’t like it,” he said with the nastiest half-smirk on his face.
    I wonder if he learned that one from Mr. Michaels.
    The third kid in our desk triangle didn’t notice the whole time. Or maybe he just didn’t feel like saying anything about it.
    After all, Jasper McKinley never touched any of the boys in my class like that. He only touched me like that because I’m a woman.
    Another study done by NEU and UK Feminista showed that 24 percent of female students at mixed sex lower secondary schools have been subjected to unwanted physical touching of a sexual nature while at school, yet only 14 percent of students who have experienced sexual harrassment reported it to a teacher.
    As insecure as I was in the 6th grade, I worked up the courage and talked with Mrs. Johnson about how Jasper acted toward me. She switched him to a different cluster of desks.
    The NEU and UK Feminista said in their report that 27 percent of mixed sex lower secondary school teachers say they would not feel confident tackling a sexist incident if they experienced or witnessed it in school.
    I thank Mrs. Johnson now for defying that statistic and changing the seating arrangement all those years ago, but that was that.
    Jasper never got in any trouble for it.
    Although I knew in middle school what sexism meant, I overlooked it during interactions that I thought were normal at the time. I didn’t even know about all the different forms it can take.
    I started recognizing sexism on the spot when I got to high school, including all of the subtypes. I became aware of the frequent unconscious bias against my womanhood from other people in my day-to-day life.
    The Utah Woman and Leadership Project (UWLP) defines unconscious biases as stereotypes and beliefs regarding certain groups of people that individuals hold without being consciously aware.
    Nearing my 15th birthday, I wore an olive green off-shoulder top with ruffles around the edges, blue skinny jeans and brown combat boots to the annual family Christmas party.
    I did not realize I left the house that night wearing such a provocative outfit.
    No more than a second after I walked into the party, Aunt Beatrice* came up to me and asked me a question I still haven’t forgotten about.
    “Wow, you look sexy,” she said. “Do you have a hot date waiting for you outside or something?”
    No, Aunt Beatrice, I didn’t. Not at 14 years old.
    The whole rest of the family overheard Beatrice’s comment and started discussing why my adolescent body looked more feminine compared to all of the actual adults in the room.
    Except I don’t wonder why my adolescent body looked more feminine compared to all of the actual adults in the room that night anymore. I only wonder how the sexualization of a young girl could ever become one of the main topics of conversation at her own family dinner.
    The UWLP released a study in 2021 showing a super majority (over 77 percent) of the women participants strongly agreeing with the statement that people can behave in sexist ways without realizing it. Over 70 percent of women participants also strongly agreed that they had personally experienced bias because of their gender.
    My family never talked about the boys at the Christmas party like that. They only talked about me like that because I’m a woman.
    I can’t change that I’m a woman. I mean I can, technically, but I don’t.
    I like that I’m a woman.
    So how do I deal with it? How do I control it without having any control over it? How do I handle a personal issue that is simultaneously sociocultural?
    I asked Hannah Strong.
    “Awareness is key, because we can’t choose what culture we grow up in, and unconscious biases are everywhere,” Strong said. “I also have gender biases that arise from growing up in a patriarchal society.”
    I let what Strong said sit with me. I have internalized sexist biases of my own, for sure.
    So how do I better hold myself accountable?
    “I try to be firm in my presence, without overdoing it,” Strong said. “I know what I know, and I don’t need to prove it to anyone, unless I need to prove it to myself.”
    So I need more confidence.
    Not an easy solution, or a solution at all. But a solution to sexism doesn’t exist, let alone an easy one, anyway.
    “Just feeling solid and confident in my stance is the first step to handling it,” Strong said.
    I just need more confidence!
    One day I’ll be there. And one day I’ll truly be a confident woman. Until then, though, I know that I’m truly a woman nonetheless. And sometimes it does feel lonely.
    But if writing this paper and finding the right statistics and interviewing the right person taught me anything, it’s that I’m truly a woman.
    And I’m truly never alone.