Just a couple weeks ago, a freshman read a poem about sexual harassment at the talent show. Before she even started to perform, I listened to the boys behind me make comments about her body in the dress she was wearing. They continued until she finished reading. She was literally reading a poem about why it is important to not objectify her as a woman. The irony is not lost on me.

So maybe we’re not Latin and we don’t have a Young Republicans Club. Yeah, I know, we’re Parker, we’re so progressive, and no one would ever dare question a woman’s right to choose. But at Parker there is a more low-key kind of misogyny. All you have to do to recognize this is watch how a male-dominated class functions.

For example, in English class we will read something blatantly misogynistic–let’s say, when Nick Carraway says “dishonesty is a woman’s trait” in “The Great Gatsby.” Then I will have to spend the whole class wasting my breath arguing with 11 boys that it is in fact a sexist statement. Are you kidding me? How could this possibly be read as not offensive?

I found myself incredulous that I seemed crazy for arguing that Nick’s statement was anti-women. It makes me sad because I watch boys whom I consider to be close friends and whom I like a lot say idiotic things to defend their gender.

These are good people, I know them, I have for a while, they truly mean well. They are not bad people. But I just don’t understand how with a minimum of three years of a Parker education they still think like this. This is not only a problem for women to deal with. This is a universal problem. This is not a gender, sexuality, race, or religion-specific issue.

And yes, I know this makes me the crazy feminist, and lots of guys in the high school are gonna think I’m a joy-killing downer. You know what? I so don’t care. I could not care less. My body physically aches from lack of caring. I’d rather be annoying than silent.

So in an ideal world, that’s how I would act: I’d be the crazy feminist that jumps down people’s throats to assert the plight of the American female. Unfortunately, I do care. Notice how in my earlier story I just sat there and let the guys behind me continue to objectify the girl on stage until my head exploded?

There’s a reason for that. I’m scared. I’m terrified of being socially isolated because I believe women are still not treated equal to men in every sense of the word. I’m not okay with being the crazy feminist bitch all the time.  I’m afraid of being shunned by my male counterparts, by guys that are my friends.

This fear is manifested because of the sexism that goes on in our school. I’m afraid I’m being too radical by saying that we still have a ways to go in treating all genders equally. I feel like branding myself a feminist automatically makes me less feminine.

But I shouldn’t be afraid to say something feminist in class. I shouldn’t have to apologize for sounding like a crazy person before I say my beliefs.

And I can’t write this article without acknowledging that there is a certain brand of white feminism that does appear in our school.

But regardless, going to one women’s march doesn’t make you a feminist. Standing up for your peers in class when the boys snicker does. This too qualifies: turning around, as I should have, and telling the boys objectifying a woman, and a woman making a feminist statement no less, to stop.