Bad Feminism? Confession: I Know Nothing About Cars

This past summer I bought my first car despite having no previous interest in doing such a thing. I had countless arguments with my dad about my inability to get myself where I needed to be at any given moment, and finally I gave in to the temptation. Admittedly, it was a bit of an impulsive decision, I had come into a little bit of money and thought buying a car was a logical step in my transition into being an eventual college grad. (It’s been a long five years).

 So here’s the deal: I fall right into the gender stereotype of knowing nothing about cars. I don’t consider it to be entirely my fault though. Growing up I frequently asked my dad to participate in activities traditionally set aside for boys (ex. sports, cars, generally being a handyman), and yet he shot me down every time. I have a theory which basically says that he did this cause I’m his only daughter and he wanted me to be as “girly” as possible…Whoops. Sorry, Dad. So yes, while my dad certainly stunted my “car education”, if you will, it doesn’t excuse the fact that I didn’t then take the responsibility to learn for myself, especially after you know, becoming the owner of a car.

My dad had to help me in every step of the process of buying a car. I didn’t know what to look for, how to negotiate, how to do anything pretty much. (I’ve since come along way, I promise. I feel confident I can find a car on my own next time. Thanks, Dad). My dad really knows his stuff though and he was able to help me find a decent car for a decent price which has (up until this past week) given me no mechanical problems.

Pictured: My car, Huey when I first bought him. He’s currently buried underneath snow.

Last week I went to go pick my friend up from work one night (as friends sometimes do) and as I went to start my car back up to leave……it wouldn’t start! I was quite at a loss for what to do cause one) this had never happened before and two) I don’t know many people with cars who could’ve helped me in that moment. Eventually, I got my car jump started (Thanks, Campus Police!) and went on my way.

Of course, I let my resident car expert (my dad) in on the situation and he recommended that I go to the car shop in order to make sure I didn’t need to replace my battery. I figured that was some solid advice I should probably follow, so the next morning I headed out to the only shop I could think of the location for off the top of my head, Firestone. And well, basically, this was a huge mistake. The mechanic told me there was a $25 charge to get my battery checked amongst other things that sounded important at the time. Again, I tried to keep my dad updated about the situation and he told me to leave the shop (Too late! They were already working on my car!) and go somewhere different cause they would check it for free.

 At the end of my Firestone visit, the mechanic informed me that I needed a new battery, air filter, and all four tires replaced! Ha! I barely had money to pay for the service they just did for me. Guess Huey would be sitting in the parking lot of my apartment for the rest of the semester. I left there and immediately went to an Advanced Auto Parts store where they told me that actually, my battery was perfectly healthy, and just needed to be charged a bit.

 I felt scammed by Firestone. Could it be that they lied to me in order to make a profit, because I seemed like a naïve girl who didn’t know anything about cars? Well, they were right, but that didn’t make me feel any less ashamed of my ineptitude. And the story gets worse as far as my claim to being a feminist goes. My dad asked me for the number of the shop and later left me a voicemail saying if I went back to Firestone and asked for a manager they would test my battery again for free, and if my battery came out fine, they would even give me my $25 back.

 While excited as I was to potentially get my money back, I felt conflicted that my dad never gave me the option of being able to take care of the situation myself. He assumed, as did the mechanics, that I didn’t know how to talk about cars and the situation could only be handled by men. And I’m having a hard time forgiving myself for the fact that all of the men involved in this situation were right. I didn’t know that getting a battery check would be free anywhere else, I didn’t know that my battery was actually fine the whole time, and I didn’t know how to then demand to get my money back.

And I’m sure there are many other women like myself who’ve shared similar or even worse experiences. I feel I am a living example of someone who transcends so many gender stereotypes, but this is not of them. If anyone else has an experience like this they would like to share, I would love to hear them!

Thanks for reading!