Mother's Day is many different things to many people but it is probably universally accepted to be the day where everyone pays some sort of tribute to their mommas. I'm not so naive as to believe becoming a mother magically turns a woman into a saint. I know there are plenty of women who have children for selfish reasons--to fill a void, to find love, to save a relationship--all burdens that no child should ever be brought into the world to bear. I also know all too well the hatred and hurt that can be meted out by one who calls herself "mother." But on Mother's Day, we set those wounds aside and try to focus on the beauty of this thing we call motherhood despite the fact that every and any mother brings with them the baggage of their own childhoods.
On Mother's Day of this year, after eating a grilled bratwurst, I found myself smiling at my 10-month- old daughter. I was feeling proud and thankful that my husband and I had survived the last four years. It may not sound like much-- four years in a lifetime is rather insignificant afterall. But for my husband and I, these last four years tested the very backbone of our relationship. We had survived a bankruptcy due to my husband's business (which he sold to avoid the divorce prospect I had thrown on the table); a lawsuit initiated by the guarantor of my husband's business loan who thought we were simply trying to screw him over because he couldn't fathom a couple who didn't have access to a "mere" $25,000; my deployment to hell and back only to find out that hell followed me wherever i went, two moves across the State of Iowa, three different houses; one townhome; six new jobs between my husband and I, five new daycare centers for my son, difficulty conceiving for a year to be followed by a miscarriage, the re-onset of my severe depression and countless other moments and events that have made up life for us. But we never gave up on each other, although honestly, I came closer than I would like to admit. But after it was all said and done, on Mother's Day of this year, I found myself feeling immensely proud because John and I had held our family together and we had welcomed another beautiful child into this world as a result.
As I was admiring my amazing daughter, the words "You throw like a girl," ripped me back to reality. I looked over to see my sister-in-law's new boyfriend spitting those words to my sixteen year old nephew. The words were obviously hurled as an insult to a teenaged boy who was playing bean bag toss in the yard. I immediately felt that white hot rage that constantly bubbles below the surface rise inside of me like lava exploding from a volcano. But characteristic of post-Afghanistan Jill, I didn't say a word (See prior posting Crazy Bitch for context). Instead, I just felt sick knowing that my beautiful daughter who smiles from the instant she gets up in the morning until the time she cannot keep her bright eyes open, would grow up in a world where a slovenly man who honestly probably hadn't engaged in anything remotely close to athletics for the past thirty years, didn't think twice about insulting women and their capabilities on the one day we set aside to honor women.
I have reflected on this moment in time several times since then. A professional implied to me i was making too big of a deal about it and that plenty of people don't find those words insulting because the reality is that girls pitch differently than boys. But after continued reflection, I disagree. Girls may pitch differently than boys (i.e. throwing underhand instead of overhand). But those five words-you throw like a girl-arent usually said in a way that simply highlights that there are pitching differences between the sexes. Rather, those five little words are said, at worst, as a fucking insult, or at best, as an observation of one's throwing abilities. Either way, if we truly analyze the statement, we all know it is not usually said as a compliment. And yet, no woman at the backyard barbecue on Mother's Day, said a word about this statement or protested its utterance. We all let it go, if we noticed it at all. Maybe that's the worst part. Women seem to have given up the fight. Since we now can vote and work for less pay, we seem to have defected from the feminist movement in droves. We accept misogyny as part of our daily lives and by accepting it, we implicitly condone it.
You might be reading this thinking I'm some uptight bitch. Could five words really have such an impact? Could an off hand comment really hold such meaning? Perhaps it is just a phrase born out of legitimate differences between the sexes. I think these justifications are just a way for people to maintain the illusion that misogyny isn't as prevalent as what it is. Misogyny, if we are truly ready to get real about it, is everywhere in our society. We may not have to wear burqas in America but all American women have to deal with a less overt form of this hatred of women. In America, it might even be more damaging because we have managed to delude ourselves into thinking there isn't a problem. This means that anyone who identifies it or calls it for what it is can easily be written off as an uptight bitch.
The problem is best illuminated in other contexts. We would all likely consider it homophobic if we heard someone say, "You throw like a homo," or racist if we heard someone say "You throw like an Asian" or "You throw like a Jew." As a society we seem to know better than to say these things publically. But saying "You throw like a girl" isn't seen as even remotely problematic. Women have been taught accept such things for fear of being seen as sensitive or of being called that horrible "F" word--Feminist. The issue is, though, by condoning such behavior and not calling it what it is, we allow all our accomplishments and advancements to be rendered inconsequential. I'm a lawyer, a marathoner, a veteran, a Major, a mother and many other things. But because I'm also a woman, an overweight old guy who by most comparisons is not as successful or accomplished as I am and has never met me before felt no shame in denigrating me and my abilities on Mother's Day, the one day we try to honor women, by uttering five thoughtless words. Maybe its not a big deal to anyone but me. But I have to wonder if this acceptance by silence contributed in part to the radical form of misogynistic beliefs pronounced by Elliot Rodger. More on that topic this Friday if you are interested in hearing more. For now, I will try to find my voice again for the sake of my daughter. I can't stand the thought of her spirit being crushed someday when she realizes her accomplishments, no matter what they are, can be reduced to rubble just as quick as some guy can say, "You throw like a girl."
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