Picture this. You’re in your first semester of college studying business. The subject and the lecture are fairly tame; then again, it’s a first-year subject that you could breeze through without spending too much time on.
The next slide pops up and your eyes are immediately diverted to the last line of text, which is coloured differently from the rest of the text on the slide: “Most CEOs are male, white, well-educated and from rich families.” You don’t think much of it because it’s true. Yet what your professor discusses next leaves your head shaking in pity.
Despite what it already says on the screen, the professor still asks the characteristics of most CEOs. The audience calls out and lists all the traits on screen. The professor agrees and taps his clicker to the next slide. In front of the whole lecture theatre, the ratio of male and female directors of the top five companies are presented. Naturally, the ratios vary from 2:1 (males and females respectively) to 4:1. Out of seemingly nowhere, he drops this bombshell:
“Are white males from elite families better leaders?”
One blue pilled cuck in the front row says that the industry favours their bias and promotes them accordingly. He agrees and amplifies.
“There is a social bias at play which, despite the law regarding racial and gender discrimination, tends to be biased in favour of people with these attributes. Not because they’re necessarily better leaders, but because it’s so deeply embedded within our assumptions, attitudes and values that it’s difficult to overcome.”
There’s an image on the screen depicting women in the floor below an executive meeting room, and the floor is obviously made of glass. He explains the definition of the glass ceiling and how women cannot progress beyond a certain point when climbing the corporate ladder.
Then the rest of the lecture proceeds without any more feminist propaganda forced down your throat.
A few weeks later, you’re sitting in an accounting lecture. Your other subject was a left-wing management subject which most of the females in your course would major in. So, you relax your shoulders knowing that this subject will be void of transmitting feminist sludge into the subconscious of your fellow students, right?
Midway through the lecture, your professor minimizes the PowerPoint and brings up a photo of a woman in her sixties.
“Can anyone tell me who this is?” he asks the lecture room, consisting of around two hundred people. Nobody answers, except for you who reads the search query at the top of the screen.
You call out her name, and the professor immediately thanks you. Then he explains to the audience more about her, saying how she is an accountant, a director at a large bank, an executive at the college and most importantly, a woman. To quote the professor:
“This is a remarkable woman who has fought sexism and every barrier in her way to be in the position she currently is in now. I admire her ad infinitum, and there's no reason why every female in this room shouldn't have the opportunity to become an accountant.”
After that brief intermission, he continues where he left off.
Some would ask why one wouldn’t intervene mid-lecture and debate with the professors. After these ordeals, I was considering emailing my first professor the article written by a female Harvard economist explaining the myth of the wage gap. And I thought of speaking to my second professor and explaining, since he was such a firm supporter of equality, that a highly effective male role model could also be shown on screen.
But I didn’t, because of Law 38: Think As You Like But Behave Like Others.
Based on my earlier readings of Carnegie’s ‘How to Win Friends and Influence People’, there really was no point in trying to change somebody’s mind. Ironically, feminism has become so entrenched within our social fabric that it has become difficult to resist.
There might have been other redpilled men who may have spoken to or thanked me after the lecture if I had stood up for my beliefs, but I highly doubt it. I weighed up the consequences and decided that it simply wasn’t worth stirring controversy when I was still new at the college. Hell, it didn’t even work for a four-year Harvard graduate with a PhD at Google.
After those lectures I realised my academic goals: graduate from this university as soon as possible and resist every feminist indoctrination I’m exposed to with every fibre of my body.
TL;DR: On two separate occasions within my first year of college, my professors blatantly promote feminism, the wage gap and the glass ceiling in unjustified circumstances.