Dadscriminated!
I have no right to play the discrimination card. I am a white, 34-year-old, dude. I have been given all the breaks. The world is mine for the taking, so long as I put on my suit and tie and go to Rotary Club once a week. I have a golden pass card to the secret society of movers and shakers. It’s not fair, really, how much good stuff I can get access to just by using the secret handshake that was issued to me alongside my lily white wang.

However, I was subject to not one, but two discriminary events today. And I’m going to blog about them. Beware my anglo-entitled sense of rage!

Dadscrimination the First.
The scene: the Sharon Lynn Wilson Center. Whoever was working the lobby today was systematically stopping dads and asking demanding to see their tickets. She let nearly every mom and daughter walk right through, never even raising an eyebrow to them, but no single father walked bye without getting her hairy eyeball.
Please consider this a vote against any kind of fiduciary support you might be considering throwing at the Sharon Lynn. Seriously, that place better served the people when it was a dog park. It was classier when it was a dog park.

Dadscrimination the Second: I was not allowed to help Gaia prep for her recital today. Dads are not allowed in the pre-school dressing room. There was no sign, no prior warning. Just a flock of exquisitely coiffed uptight rich-women swarming in on me and explaining that the existence of my aforementioned lily white wang makes some of the other moms uncomfortable.
“Dads aren’t allowed in here,” they said. “We don’t want you making the girls or their moms uncomfortable.”
That phrase fails the discrimination test. Substitute any other noun in place of the word Dad, and you’ll see how unreasonable it is. Try a few of these out in place of Dad in the previous paragraph. Jews. Indians. Lefties. Leotards. Discrimination is discrimination. And discrimination is wrong.

Just because I don’t have standing to cry discrimination, doesn’t mean discrimination isn’t happening. And just because I’m not usually the victim of discrimination, doesn’t mean it’s not just as unfair, hurtful and demeaning when it happens to me.