I'm NOT Cute

Unpacking One of My Least Favorite Words

Recently, a stranger on my college campus asked me what I planned to do with my life. After giving him a two minute synopsis of my life goals (dance, start a dance company with a social justice mission, become a professor), he proceeded to respond, "That's cute!" He then went on a long-winded rant explaining his goal to be a film major with an emphasis on production and engineering.

I am 19 years old. That makes me an adult by legal standards. I graduated high school at the top of my class, and I attend a prestigious college where I am in the honors program. I am a double major with a minor. I have worked multiple jobs, travelled abroad, published writing, and choreographed dances.

Why, then, when I describe my ideas and aspirations to people, do they call me cute?

As I often do, I turned to Merriam Webster for a definition of this word I hear so often. According to the dictionary, cute is an adjective meaning, "attractive or pretty especially in a childish, youthful, or delicate way." 

Usually, I hear the word when women describe each other's appearance. This does not bother me that much. Although I am reaching the age where I look more like an adult than a child, I understand why cute is used to describe children and young women. Yes, I would rather be called beautiful or strong, but cute in this context does not anger me.

Perhaps, my pursuit of artistry appears delicate, and this is why people describe my work as cute. Again, I can understand this, but it begins to perturb me a bit. Being a dance major is incredibly difficult. Most of my days start at 8am and involve hours of rehearsal interspersed with running to my academic classes for my English major. My dance classes are graded on participation and performance, so there is no sleeping in the back of a lecture hall. Job prospects after graduation are dauntingly slim, and the competition within my program is friendly, but prepares me for the world of auditions. None of this is really delicate, but when the final product lands on stage, it can appear as such.

The most infuriating use of the word cute occurs in the situation I first mentioned. When I describe my ideas, thoughts, or methods, more often than one would expect, I receive the quintessential answer, "Well, that's cute." To me, it feels as if the person does not care to learn about the reasoning behind my thoughts and merely dismisses them with this seemingly innocent four letter word. I would much rather have someone say, "Wow. I have never heard of that," or "What is it like to be a dance major?" than to tell me that my ideas are cute.

Call me beautiful. Call me strong. Call me stubborn, opinionated, introspective, and thoughtful. My art is tough, raw, exhausting, vulnerable, and emotional. My ideas can be convoluted, messy, insightful, unintelligent, and put-together all at once. Call me anything, but please do not call me cute.