Sunday, March 27, 2011

In Defense of Women

It has occurred to me that as of late I have found myself increasingly confrontational. I delivered my polemic from yesterday morning to the Lafayette Journal and Courier in the hopes that someone might take sufficient notice to make the issue of which I write visible to a larger crowd than the small one that reads this blog. Since the article on economic inequality on March 19th, (“On Organized Labor”), I’ve found myself increasingly controversial and ready to face whatever negativity that might result from my opinions. Whether any of this prolixity is justified is left as an exercise to the reader but suffice it to say that I grow increasingly unimpressed with the society in which we live.

For today’s rant I take up a topic that I’ve touched on before in the long history of this blog but never with quite this level of specificity. It seems that there exists in this country a silent war on women. I was greeted this morning by a post from Sarah Kimmett in defense of the right of a woman to breastfeed her baby in some public place aside from a restroom. While the imagery of her post was… well, a tad unsettling, her point was well taken. Why should a woman who wishes to feed her baby, in the most natural way possible, and in the most healthy and responsible way possible, be consigned to do so in a public restroom? Because of a group of ultra-conservative, ultra-religious assholes, we’ve vilified the natural act of feeding a child. It’s become something to be hidden away in a dark corner like taking a shit. Feeding your baby is not the moral equivalent of dropping a deuce. Stop treating it like it is.

My personal experience with this is fairly limited. I’ve seen a few women breastfeeding in my day but not many. The most poignant that I recall was, somewhat ironically, in the Field Museum in Chicago. Amongst the displays of primitive man and bones of long-dead Dinosaurs, I saw a woman quietly sitting in the stairwell feeding her child. She wasn’t terribly exposed. She wasn’t a repugnant display of human flesh. She was simply and discretely and quietly feeding her baby. I didn’t feel repulsed or disgusted. What did I feel? I felt an overwhelming sense of well-being. Here was a woman who was sharing of herself to bring life and joy to the next generation of humankind. The image of her still dances through my mind all these years later. In some utterly bizarre way this image gives me hope for humanity. It lets me know that there is hope for all of us, that we are still one big human family that cares for one another generation after generation. I would be sad if some close-minded bigots kept me from having that feeling. Every time that I see a group of people on television I’m greeted by a sign that says, “Support our Troops.” It would be nice if once in a while we saw a sign that said, “Support our Moms.” Their jobs are no less important, but their song goes unsung.

Closely related to this, I’ve been increasingly confronted as of late with men, or at least stories of men, who are stuck in the year 1953. There is still a small cohort of mankind who believes that there is something called “women’s work” and that women are uniquely qualified to carry it out. To them I will merely say, the year is 2011 and it is time to dispose of your old value systems. The women of today are capable of much more than their assigned roles from 60 years ago. June Cleaver didn’t bring home a paycheck, run the house and keep junior’s fingernails trimmed in the way that today’s modern woman does. Because of this added responsibility, she deserves not only your respect but very nearly your worship. She balances more things in a day than an average man could possibly conceive of. Appreciate her for all that she is and she will, I assure you, more than compensate you for your attentions. Men of the world, do not wage war on your women. Stand beside them and recognize them for the awe-inspiring allies that they are.

2 comments:

Sarah said...

You never cease to amaze me - well put, RS.

Trebor Nevals said...

I am merely the humble servant of my inspiration.