Mastering the Mystique
Once upon a time, I was young. Oh, it was eons ago, I know. Long, long before I was jaded. In fact, I was still pretty impressionable in those days. There may have been a sheet of ice still covering the earth at the time. I'm a little sketchy on some of the details. I believe I was the age that my middle daughter is currently, and I was a freshman in High School. Yes, yes, of that much I am sure. I had always been a good student and truly enjoyed learning for learning's sake. And, yes, I embraced my inner nerd...even when it was my outer nerd. Couldn't help it.
High school freshmen really are pretty clueless. Of course, one doesn't think so when in that situation. Can't remember all my classes, but I do remember Freshman English with Lorraine Abrams. And if she's googling her name, I hope she finds this and knows that I enjoyed her class and that I remember her fondly. Now, just so you'll know, you did not get an 'A' in Ms. Abrams English class. It was unheard of. There were epics written on bathroom stalls telling of mystical incantations that hadn't worked...of formulaic equations that had failed...of men who had fought and died heroically in an effort to get one. She had a reputation for being a hard-ass. I didn't realize how easy it is to get one of those reputations when I was that age. Looking back, I suppose she was tough. But, I always thought she was fair.
I remember the first paper I ever wrote in her class. It set the tone between us for the entire year. I don't remember the theme of the assignment, but I do remember that it was to have been five typed pages with at least three references. It was my first high school paper and I wanted it to be perfect. I felt at competition with the rest of the class and while I didn't want to necessarily be better, I wanted to make sure I was at least par. I selected the History of the Feminist Movement in America as my topic.
I didn't realize I was wielding a double-edged sword at the time, but I came to realize it when I learned that the feminist movement was a cause dear to her heart. I wasn't sure if it would make my quest more difficult (as impressing her on a topic in which she was so well-versed would certainly be a challenge) or substantially easier (because she might cut me a little slack for sharing a passion for the movement). Freshmen don't have the wherewithal to avoid these situations. Or maybe they're just unwise in their abandon. But, whatever the case, after we'd submitted outlines and rough drafts, I figured out that I had better be suiting up. This wasn't going to be just any paper. Not even just any freshman English paper.
Long before the internet, I combed the library, looking for books and magazine articles that would enlighten me and supply the opinions, historical data and facts and figures necessary for my paper. I spent hours and hours reading the material. Immersing myself in the origins of the movement with suffragettes Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton, to feeling kinship with those burning their bras and fighting for the ERA. As an impressionable young woman, it was easy to believe in the cause. Easy to look (in 1976) at the disproportionate employment practices, the unfair educational opportunities, the fact that marital rape was still legal, and feel that women needed to be empowered. Badly.
Yes. Yes. By this point, you have all deduced that I got an "A" on my paper (and as a final grade in her class). It was 20 typed pages and had two full pages of reference material. I railed against the patriarchal system and beseeched women everywhere to take a stand. Ms. Abrams was very impressed (or so she claimed) and she had great respect for me throughout the time I knew her (or so it seemed). She always encouraged me to write and thought I had great things ahead of me. I imagine she'd find me a disappointment now, not having lived up to the great potential she saw in me. But she was one of my biggest cheerleaders then.
I was reminiscing about all of this yesterday, when I heard that Betty Friedan died over the past weekend. It was during that time in my life that I read 'The Feminine Mystique'. And like so many other things at that time, it had a profound influence on me. I imagine it did on a great many women of the time. Bolstering our belief that we were whole people individually. That while it was great to be a wife and a mother, being a wife and a mother didn't have to define who we were as people. That we could find meaning in our lives without relying on anyone else to administer that meaning. That we were stronger than we thought ourselves. Smarter than we were given credit for. And that it was our responsibility to ourselves, and our daughters, to let the rest of the world in on that little gem.
It was another time, I realize. My own daughters will never know those feelings. And there's a sadness in me about that. I'm glad for them that this country has come as far as it has in how it treats women, but I don't think you can always appreciate what you have when you haven't seen the struggles a little more closely. It's almost impossible to get the same thing out of reading about history as you do living it.
Much of this is the same reason that I vote. Always. I feel I'd be doing the women who came before me...who gave up so much to make it possible...a huge disservice by skipping out on the responsibility just because it's inconvenient or because I am not particularly fired up about a candidate. Women who endured years of legal battles and ridicule, whose own children suffered so that I could have this right, deserve better of me. I refuse to slap them in the face by ignoring their contributions.
Sad to see Betty Friedan's passing. She had already become a name in a history book for most. Of course, she'll never be that to me. Or to Ms. Abrams, I'm sure. To us, she will always be the voice of hope and the promise of what we could be. Both individually and as womankind. And that's a priceless gift.
High school freshmen really are pretty clueless. Of course, one doesn't think so when in that situation. Can't remember all my classes, but I do remember Freshman English with Lorraine Abrams. And if she's googling her name, I hope she finds this and knows that I enjoyed her class and that I remember her fondly. Now, just so you'll know, you did not get an 'A' in Ms. Abrams English class. It was unheard of. There were epics written on bathroom stalls telling of mystical incantations that hadn't worked...of formulaic equations that had failed...of men who had fought and died heroically in an effort to get one. She had a reputation for being a hard-ass. I didn't realize how easy it is to get one of those reputations when I was that age. Looking back, I suppose she was tough. But, I always thought she was fair.
I remember the first paper I ever wrote in her class. It set the tone between us for the entire year. I don't remember the theme of the assignment, but I do remember that it was to have been five typed pages with at least three references. It was my first high school paper and I wanted it to be perfect. I felt at competition with the rest of the class and while I didn't want to necessarily be better, I wanted to make sure I was at least par. I selected the History of the Feminist Movement in America as my topic.
I didn't realize I was wielding a double-edged sword at the time, but I came to realize it when I learned that the feminist movement was a cause dear to her heart. I wasn't sure if it would make my quest more difficult (as impressing her on a topic in which she was so well-versed would certainly be a challenge) or substantially easier (because she might cut me a little slack for sharing a passion for the movement). Freshmen don't have the wherewithal to avoid these situations. Or maybe they're just unwise in their abandon. But, whatever the case, after we'd submitted outlines and rough drafts, I figured out that I had better be suiting up. This wasn't going to be just any paper. Not even just any freshman English paper.
Long before the internet, I combed the library, looking for books and magazine articles that would enlighten me and supply the opinions, historical data and facts and figures necessary for my paper. I spent hours and hours reading the material. Immersing myself in the origins of the movement with suffragettes Susan B. Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton, to feeling kinship with those burning their bras and fighting for the ERA. As an impressionable young woman, it was easy to believe in the cause. Easy to look (in 1976) at the disproportionate employment practices, the unfair educational opportunities, the fact that marital rape was still legal, and feel that women needed to be empowered. Badly.
Yes. Yes. By this point, you have all deduced that I got an "A" on my paper (and as a final grade in her class). It was 20 typed pages and had two full pages of reference material. I railed against the patriarchal system and beseeched women everywhere to take a stand. Ms. Abrams was very impressed (or so she claimed) and she had great respect for me throughout the time I knew her (or so it seemed). She always encouraged me to write and thought I had great things ahead of me. I imagine she'd find me a disappointment now, not having lived up to the great potential she saw in me. But she was one of my biggest cheerleaders then.
I was reminiscing about all of this yesterday, when I heard that Betty Friedan died over the past weekend. It was during that time in my life that I read 'The Feminine Mystique'. And like so many other things at that time, it had a profound influence on me. I imagine it did on a great many women of the time. Bolstering our belief that we were whole people individually. That while it was great to be a wife and a mother, being a wife and a mother didn't have to define who we were as people. That we could find meaning in our lives without relying on anyone else to administer that meaning. That we were stronger than we thought ourselves. Smarter than we were given credit for. And that it was our responsibility to ourselves, and our daughters, to let the rest of the world in on that little gem.
It was another time, I realize. My own daughters will never know those feelings. And there's a sadness in me about that. I'm glad for them that this country has come as far as it has in how it treats women, but I don't think you can always appreciate what you have when you haven't seen the struggles a little more closely. It's almost impossible to get the same thing out of reading about history as you do living it.
Much of this is the same reason that I vote. Always. I feel I'd be doing the women who came before me...who gave up so much to make it possible...a huge disservice by skipping out on the responsibility just because it's inconvenient or because I am not particularly fired up about a candidate. Women who endured years of legal battles and ridicule, whose own children suffered so that I could have this right, deserve better of me. I refuse to slap them in the face by ignoring their contributions.
Sad to see Betty Friedan's passing. She had already become a name in a history book for most. Of course, she'll never be that to me. Or to Ms. Abrams, I'm sure. To us, she will always be the voice of hope and the promise of what we could be. Both individually and as womankind. And that's a priceless gift.
posted by SuperWife | 10:50 PM
6 Comments:
Wonderful post, baby, and a wonderful tribute to your old teacher and to Ms. Friedan. I've never read The Feminine Mystique, but I'm pretty sure I should. Maybe I'll try to get it out of the library.
SUPERGIRLFRIEND SAID: Because I'm not happy unless I'm making things as confusing as possible, I had received this comment via email and wanted to post it. I wasn't sure if Steve would want me to do so as him, and, of course, after I posted it anonymously, he emailed me saying I could post it as him. So, I have revised the post to include his name. Thanks, Steve. And I'll respond to both of these comments...sometime when I have a minute or two. Promise. Cross my heart. And now, without further ado, here's Steve.
I just read a couple of your blog posts. I found the one about feminism to be interesting... You see, it reveals what may be the primary purpose and thrust of the movement, a very positive thing which seemed to become lost somewhere along the way. By the time I was in college in the mid to late eighties, "feminism" had become a negative term, and its most vocal proponents were often virulently anti-male, often to the point of espousing things like the utter rejection of Shakespeare on the grounds that he was a male writer, and only female writers were worthy of study and admiration. I therefore came to associate feminism with bigotry and stupidity, and whenever I hear the term, my initial reaction is negative. I guess it's unfortunate that something that started out so positively would end up going in that direction, but I guess that's not particularly uncommon for any movement.
An interesting side note is that this has spawned some anti-feminist feeling among younger females. The most extreme example from my own life actually occurred when I was preparing to DM a game of Dungeons and Dragons, believe it or not, in the early nineties. I was dating a girl named "J" at the time, and she and her friend were joining a friend of mine and his girlfriend, "R", as players in the game. When "J" realized that the females outnumbered the males in the party (unusual in a game that's statistically 90% male), she said, "Wow, we're going to be the feminist D&D party!" Unfortunately, "J" had pressed one of "R"'s button. She just went totally nuts, "Don't you DARE call me a feminist!" Etc., etc., even though the comment was made in jest in the first place. She was railing against feminism, and poor "J" looked so totally befuddled that what she intended to be a light, humorous comment elicited such a reaction. Though I kind of found "R"'s reaction to be humorous in its own way. :-)
H -
I could check it out for you, if you'd like...;)
Not sure Ms. Abrams would consider it a wonderful tribute, but I appreciate you saying so.
Steve -
That's absolutely right. A great many feminists felt it wasn't enough to speak to equality or their own self-worth, but had to keep driving until it became the She-Woman Man Haters Club. But that's not how I choose to consider it. It's not how Betty Friedan meant it either. And as the movement grew to be more about the separation of men and women in our culture...more about sexuality, as well...I think it lost a great deal of focus from the origins. And, sadly, a great deal of support from a majority of women, based on the struggles for ideals that soccer moms, grannies and hippie chicks could all get behind. Betty Friedan became old school to the new leadership. And had, for the past many years of her life, been working on bringing attention to the way in which we treat the aging in our society. I believe it was as much because she felt the direction of the movement had taken a terribly bad turn, as because she was aging herself and saw the need for attention in that area.
Personally, I see a lot of this stuff the same way I see labor unions. When labor unions were established, the climate was such that they were a necessity. Workers were exploited and endangered and the unions helped right those wrongs. Labor unions gained such power that they were able to bring about sweeping changes in a variety of industries and have made the plight of workers in these industries much better than it would have been without their influence over the past 100+ years. But now, in this time and place, the purpose they serve is radically different. And not in a good way. At least in my opinion. It's difficult to be sympathetic to striking workers who are making three times my salary to manufacture a product that was already so exhorbitant that I couldn't afford it, and they want more. Just like it's difficult to muster up support for radical feminists who are flogging 30 year old men for things that happened before they were born and demanding that they change.
I consider myself a feminist. But I did before the word took on the "current" (more feminazi-like) meaning. I like men. I think men and women need each other (or more accurately, that people need each other) and that both have wonderful contributions to offer not only each other, but the world, as well. That neither is omnipotent. That both are capable and independent. Please don't think I'm gay-bashing here. I just don't think that sexual orientation is the issue. I think you can be a lesbian and a feminist and it doesn't have to be about superiority at all.
But, we all know how crazy I am...
I'm putting the soapbox back under the porch for a while. I'm starting to get a little light-headed up here...;)
Ah, the voice of reason. :-) Y'know, for years I've been saying that unions may once have served an important purpose but devolved into something negative over time. I once walked into a convention hall and was told I was not allowed to carry a couple of boxes to my booth because some deal with the union said only union members could transport items within the hall. Sheesh! Absolutely ridiculous stuff. Then there are strikes, so many of which involve unions getting what they want by hurting lots of innocent people. It always reminds me of a petulant child who figures he can get what he wants by making a scene in front of a group of adults. It's sad that so many movements, once they've accomplished many of their initially laudible goals, end up becoming problems in their own right.
But I guess this is becoming a tad off-topic. :-)
suchasun -
Nice to see a new face. Working in construction, I've had some experience with labor unions. Both picketing projects I've worked on, and in negotiations with the union (where the construction company pays the...for instance...carpenters union a lump sum to avoid using union carpenters on a job...can you say EXTORTION...so that they won't picket you). I recently had a union rep stop by and meet with me to discuss the most proactive approach I've seen them take in my 20+ years in this business. Offering to give me names and numbers of their union members who would be interested in bidding our work and who are competitive. Shopping for work for their members. Instead of demanding it. Whole new concept. But certainly one I can get behind a little easier.
And, yeah, it's a tad off topic, but that's okay.
Didn't mean to mislead you...since everyone else is using pseudonyms on here, I decided to dust off one of my rarely-used screen names...Suchasun is just me, SET. :-)
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