“I understand why you’re upset,” Amanda says diplomatically.
Upset.
Interesting.
“But I’m not sure I’d read this as sexist?”
I stare at her.
Not offended.
Just… surprised.
Because Amanda has known me my whole life.
She knows this isn’t normally something I go looking for.
I fold my arms.
“It doesn’t read as sexist.”
I nod at the paper.
“That’s the point.”
My sister scans the article again. “They’re questioning decisions.”
I snort. “Yeah.”
I reach over and tap the quote.
Maybe she was following procedure. I don’t know. But you expect someone to take charge quicker in situations like that.
“Tell me why they wrote she.”
She frowns. “Because they knewit was you?”
I shake my head.
That would almost be easier.
“When I joined, people assumed I worked in admin.”
Amanda studies me.
“When I got promoted, somebody asked whether older men would struggle taking orders from me.”
Her face changes slightly.
“When I transferred from Manchester somebody asked whether rural incidents would be more physically demanding.”
She frowns.
I shrug.
“When I turned forty somebody asked whether I was planning to slow down.”
Amanda’s snort is immediate and deeply unhelpful.
