Friday, Oct. 10, 2008
The Confessions of a Mad Housewife
Michele Valdez
I am a feminist. I want equal pay for equal work, I don’t want my gender considered when I apply for a job, and I don’t want to be treated like a sexual object. Of course, given my age, the likelihood of that occurring is slim unless I’m visiting the local assisted living community.
My husband, on the other hand, thinks I am a sexist. And, he might be right.
It’s true that I expect men to open doors for me or offer their coat if I am cold. I want to be first off a sinking ship, and I will let the trash pile up for weeks rather than take it out. "Why?" you ask.
Because those are all boy jobs. That’s the way I was raised.
So my sense of fairness and feminism are complex (some might think conflicting); which leads me to my confusion over the presidential election.
Make no mistake, I am a Democrat, but I was not a Hillary Clinton supporter, and I am not a Sarah Palin admirer.
But the question is whether my sliding scale version of feminism has gotten in the way of my judgment of women as legitimate candidates.
Is it time to turn in my feminist card?
When Hillary became a candidate I thought she was brilliant, experienced and tenacious, but she just didn’t seem very nice. She wasn’t the kind of woman I would want on a girl trip; well, at least until I saw her throw back a shot of whiskey on the campaign trail. And, I wasn’t crazy about her pant suits. Why won’t the woman show her legs?
I never said these things out loud except to my husband, because I knew it was patently unfair to judge her based on such petty thoughts … but they still crossed my mind.
When Sarah Palin arrived on the scene I was equally critical. I thought Republicans were against affirmative action. Yet, it’s clear Palin was selected over more qualified men because she is a woman. So why couldn’t I just accept it, and be excited that there was a woman on the ticket? And, I can’t help but think that if I were as attractive as Palin and had her great mane that I would let those locks loose. So why the school marm look? And, am I the only one who wonders why her baby wasn’t in bed at 11 p.m. the night of the debate?
The truth is that the world is not gender-neutral. Nor is it colorblind.
This morning I woke my daughter from a deep sleep. Her body was warm and her face was peaceful. I felt the strength of my love for her. Another middle-aged epiphany was coming.
I want the world to be good to her. I want it to be fair. And I certainly don’t want someone like me judging her as less-than-able because of clothing selection or hair style.
My commitment to her is to do better.
I want my daughter to know that she can compete in this world against men and women without superficial criticism creating interference.
She also needs to know that she can’t expect better treatment with just a wink and a nod. And, its my job to do what I can to level the playing field.
So, if you see me at Target or Brick Oven Pizza, step aside; it’s my turn to open the door.
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