Feminist Failure?

I've been reading Gail Collins's books on the history of feminism in America, and I'm feeling a bit like a feminist failure: I majored in English and taught HS English (she argues that teachers are low-paid because it is/was a traditionally female career path), was married right out of college (I only ever lived in my father's/husband's home, never on my own), and I am currently staying home raising a child and doing all the laundry.

Can I do all this and still be a feminist in my heart and mind? Why didn't I become a doctor or a lawyer? I know I still have feminist beliefs, but am I acting out on them? Just some musings on a slow day of mothering and emptying the dishwasher.

I'm the Chick Carrying the Dude

So. I'm having a boy. Which means, right now, I am carrying a little tiny baby of the opposite gender. This is seeming a bit weird to this logical feminist. Yes, I know, millions upon millions of women have carried men, or there wouldn't be any, but it just seems odd.

The idea of having a boy briefly entered my mind, but I then scared it away with image upon positive image of having a girl. In Mr. Cool's testosterone filled family, I thought a little girl power would do us all good. Now, I have to reconcile myself to the (not terrible) idea of having a boy.

I must say I feel blessed to live in a time where I can rejoice equally in having a boy or a girl. Anne Boleyn had a quite a girl, Elizabeth I, but never enjoyed having a daughter, so desperate was she to have a son. Sons for century upon century have been the crowning glory of a family, fulfilling the deep and abiding need to have an heir. So, should all go as planned, I shall provide Mr. Cool with an heir. Mission accomplished, for most women of the past.

I'm not giving up my dream of having a girl, though. As much as I will love and cherish Master Cool, I delight in knowing that I have, in the time and place I live in, the opportunity to love and cherish a daughter as well. In the past, most daughters were shunted aside, unmentioned, their worth contained in their value on the marriage market. Today, sadly enough, many countries still value having a son over a daughter. In fact, from most people I speak with, this is a bit true here in the "modern" U.S. as well. "Oh, boys are so easy!" I hear every time I talk to older mothers, "Girls are so much drama, and so much more expensive, and you have to worry about them so much more as teenagers . . ."

Even today, a boy is viewed as better by so many people. This hits the crux, I think, of both my feminism and my belief. The founding fathers stated that "all men are created equal," and Genesis doesn't even name Adam and Eve's daughters, but I have to believe, in order to live, that as a woman I too have been created equal, that in the eyes of God I am equally loved. The weight of women throughout time has been to view themselves as less than a man. I don't believe that--I can't believe that and have a happy and fulfilling life as a woman.

So, in the past, and around the world, I have hit the jackpot. I am having a son. I cannot wait to begin teaching him the value of women, so that someday, when he has daughters of his own, he will value them as much as he will be valued.

Abigail Adams

As I wrote yesterday about John, I thought I would write a little about Abigail. I studied her in a freshman history class, and took her as a hero. Intelligent, sharp-witted--a true partner to her husband. There are books about her, and you can read her correspondence, which sparkles (a cliche, but oh-s0-true) with life and vitality. Throughout her letters you can read of her passion for her husband, her thoughts on his duty to America, her duty as a wife and mother, and her real, true opinions of other political figures.

Abigail to John, as he became president (and after 33 years of marriage):

The cold has been more severe than I can ever before recollect. It has frozen the ink in my pen, and chilled the blood in my veins, but not the warmth of my affection for him for whom my heart beats with unabated ardor through all the changes and vicissitudes of life, in the still calm of Peacefield, and the
turbulent scenes in which he is about to engage.

Abigail to Thomas Jefferson, responding heatedly to his claim that he had not supported a libelous newspaperman:

The serpent you cherished and warmed, bit the hand that nourished him, and gave you sufficient specimens of his talents, his gratitude, his justice, and his truth. When such vipers are let loose upon society, all distinction between virtue and vice are leveled, all respect for character is lost.

Abigail to her only daughter, on the subject of grandparenting:

I begin to think grandparents not so well qualified to educate grandchildren as parents. They are apt to relax in their spirit of government, and be too indulgent.

I could go on.

This painting of Abigail was painted by Gilbert Stuart while she was still first lady. While painting it, Stuart remarked that as a young woman she must have been a "perfect Venus," to which Adams replied, "She was! Oh, sir, she was."

Standing up for Sarah

I found this interesting article, concerning how some feminists who disagree with Sarah Palin are still trying to stand up for her. I found it interesting, as I too have been disheartened at the treatment she has received with a lack of media outcry. Specifically, when I heard Larry Flynt was crafting a porn film about her, without any sort of outcry, I felt a loss of hope for the position of women in our society. Perhaps if more people think like those in the article, there is some hope.

Star Wars & Feminism

I have wanted to blog more, desperately full of things to write about feminism, Sarah Palin, elections, teaching--but I am left with nothing but a vague weariness when I leave school.

My school is desperately trying to improve, with new schedules, new teacher demands, new rules and regulations--and I am exhausted every day. I simply do not have the energy to do much more than come home and read or knit.

And I have been reading--Mama Cool also gifted me with Madeleine L'Engle's A Circle of Quiet, one of her Crosswicks journals, full of L'Engle insight; for my knitting anniversary I purchased a historical tale of Knitting in America, and I've been learning just what and how they knit in the past. The incredibly tiny gauge and needles and L'Engle's wisdom and honesty are blowing my mind.

And I have been knitting--I've finished my Queen Bee hat, so it's just waiting for buttons; I'm knitting in circles on my plain socks, and I tried to wind up my Plain & Fancy yarn for a lovely scarf last night, but tangles ensued.

So, I'll leave you with a Star Wars feminist thought: as I watched A New Hope last night (Han Shot First!), I realized that to Obi-Wan and Yoda, Leia was more important. Think about it--she was much more protected, having been adopted, sent to a completely foreign to Darth planet, and having no name connection to him. Meanwhile, Luke's last name was Skywalker, and he was hanging around Tatooine with Darth's step-brother. Maybe this is interesting, or maybe when watching a movie for the billionth time you lose all sense of reality. (This also happens to me when I read Romeo and Juliet.)

So, can America handle a regular gal as VP? Can you be a conservative and a feminist at the same time? Have you ever read and loved a L'Engle book? Is Leia more important to the rebellion?

You've Come a Long Way, Baby

Today is the 89th Anniversary of the Approval of the 19th Amendment by Congress. In honor of my study of primary sources, I present a few in honor of the day.

19th Amendment: The right of citizens of the United States to vote shall not be denied or abridged by the United States or by any State on account of sex. Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.

from the Handbook of the National American Woman Suffrage Association: and proceedings of the Convention held at Cleveland, Ohio, April 13, 1921

This pamphlet contains the last report of the National American Woman Suffrage Association. This association, and its predecessors whose aim and work in carried forward, have published reports of their proceedings for seventy-four years. The records from 1848, when the first Woman's Rights Convention was held, to 1884, are preserved in the History of Woman Suffrage. The records since 1884 have been published annually, this report closing the series.

There have been few women whose words or deeds during the last half century have warranted their mention in our national history who have not at some time been members of the National American Woman Suffrage Association and hundreds of men and women who are known as leaders of thought have spoken upon its platform. In the earlier years, contending for the fullest freedom of all women to educational, industrial, civil, social and political opportunity, the association was the sole exponent of the woman's cause in the United States. During those years prejudice was intensely stubborn and bitter and all progress for the woman's movement was made against the current of public opinion. In later years when many organizations of women each carrying forward some specific phase of the woman's struggle had come into existence, the National American continued to lead the advance section of the movement, and devoted its endeavors exclusively to the campaign for woman suffrage.

It now has the proud satisfaction of having achieve its purpose and finished its work. It has bequeathed to American women an opportunity, a dignity and liberty which in 1848 were a dream in the minds only of a few. With this final report one of the most unique and significant chapters of American history is closed.

Carrie Chapman Catt.

all materials from the Library of Congress Women's History Collection

A Belated Mama Shout Out

I didn't blog yesterday, because I was with my mother, having a nice, delightful time. It is especially nice to have a mom who is completely satisfied just getting to see you for Mother's Day, although it might give you an exaggerated sense of self.

My mom is the best in the world--I know you might also think that, but I'm here to say you are wrong. You cannot beat my mom--she is an amazing, talented, thoughtful woman. She also has the same career I have, of sorts--she teaches Kindergartners--so we can always rant about our jobs together. She is the best baker in the entire world. If you think I am lying, ask someone who has eaten her food. She sews--she made bridesmaids dresses for both of her daughter's weddings. She is a hardcore prayer warrior. I could go on, but lunch break is about over.

So, mom, I love you so much! (I know, I know, other people's moms are great too. Share!)

Woman, I Feel Like A Man

I like to surf blogs. You do too, don't lie, you're here. I found a new one today, that combines knitting and women's reproductive rights. Yeah, in case you hadn't noticed, knitting is big everywhere. We feminists are reclaiming the creative arts and pink, proving that we can knit, have hot pink ipods, and still be dang strong.

Anyway, reproductive rights. I'm pro-life. I believe life begins at the moment of conception. When that sperm finds the egg (bingo!), a new life has been created. No ifs, ands, or buts. (As part of my beliefs, I don't believe in the death penalty. Life straight across the board.)

As I read fellow young feminists' blogs, I am confronted with a pretty common feeling: pro-choice is pro-woman. If I am pro-life (or, as they call it, anti-choice), I am not for women. I am for feudalistic slavery to men and our reproductive systems. On some level, I can understand this feeling. History books I've read have opened my eyes to what women went through in the past, and I sure as heckfire don't want to be pregnant fourteen times. However, I still believe in life and women. Can't I be for both? Now, more than ever, women have other choices than abortion if they don't want to spend their adult lives pregnant.

I don't know that I have much more to say about this, but I'm still thinking. Perhaps there are even more issues here--can I be pro-life, pro-women, and still follow God? I suppose my biggest gripe is that I want my fellow feminist knitters to accept me--to accept that my morals are not backwards and misguided. Can't we all just get along?