To illustrate why it is important to become allies for women in public spaces here is a list of scenarios that many women, myself included, have experienced:

-A smack on the ass from a man in the gym. (Yes, this actually happened.)

-A comment from a man like “No, I wasn’t paying attention to how you sent the climb because I was staring at your ass.”

-A guy catching me as I fell bouldering. It was completely awkward as his arms grabbed my side and around my boob. Spotting is appreciated under certain circumstances, however, in that situation I didn’t request, or need a spot. Plus, you never catch someone falling. You’re supposed to just make sure they don’t fall backwards and form spoons with your hands. I mean, come on, this is climbing 101.

The word “Babe” suggests sexuality, informality, and naiveté.

When climbing we are already putting ourselves in a vulnerable place. We already feel exposed. Not only are we fighting gravity and the natural instinct to stay on the ground, but we are also contorting our bodies, and stretching our limbs high up a wall. Because of the precise movements it is a spectacle to watch a climber, naturally. It took me a little while to get over this. I used to feel incredibly uncomfortable and self-conscious in the gym. I don’t like the idea of being on display, so it has taken some time to get this out of my head. With exposure comes vulnerability. It takes courage to ascend a wall. It takes courage to ascend a wall as a female in spandex hoping that people are paying attention to your footwork and not your ass.

“Babe” suggests that we should be like the girls in the latest GQ spread of Joshua Tree. It suggests physicality. It does not suggest anything about preparation, intention, and drive. As women, we are subject to harassment any day, any time, and being labeled as “Beta Babes” sets us backwards. Climbing is a practice in which I feel most unencumbered by societal pressures, but tell me I get the privilege of hosting “Beta Babes” and I’m deflated. Sexy/feminine/demure qualities are not inherently bad. But I protest these as the defining qualities of women who climb. Being sexy, feminine, demure – being a babe, is completely irrelevant to climbing.

Our society is set up through the male gaze. If we are labeled, “Beta Babes,” who does that phrase serve? It is a thin veneer of flattery to refer to women who climb as “babes.” It ultimately leaves a feeling of vulnerability and sexual objectification. There is an underlying violence because it threatens the integrity of women climbers. It threatens our competence.

What does “babe” have to do with climbing?

How does the title, “Beta Babes,” encourage female comraderie?

I will not be afraid to cause a tsunami in the ocean of patriarchy. Even though some of my friends at the gym think “Beta Babes” is cute and catchy, even though my boss said the name has to be marketable, even though I tried to sleep on it thinking I would get behind the name when I woke up –I never did wake up less educated on gender studies. I never woke up forgetting the implications of language. I never woke up dismissing the verbal and sexual abuse I have experienced in everyday situations.