Take them out at the knees
Men, mudslinging, and an overdue letter
Dear Joy,
I owe you an apology. You’ve been on my mind for awhile now, but I’ve not made time to reach out. I regret that. Your daily communications and recent gifts have been marvelously supportive. I still firmly believe in the value of a thank-you note, though texting is better than nothing, and I failed on both counts. I am truly sorry for that.
You are a faithful correspondent who seems to know just what I need most, and when. The last thing I’d want to do is jeopardize our relationship by being out of touch. I’m sure I’ve said this before, and I can imagine you chuckling as you read this, but I will try to do better. Again. I promise.
Life is full, my friend, so very full. No one knows that better than you, and yet you always find a way to rise above the noise. I’m not there yet. The world worms its way under my skin and leaves an irritating rash. At present, I find my allergy to men has resurfaced.
Now, I know what you’re thinking, and you’re right. There are exceptions to every sweeping generalization. As a matter of fact, the exceptions are the inspiration behind this letter–the exceptions and YOU, that is. I’ll circle back to that in a minute.
First, I need to air a few grievances. Something about exposing them to the light of day makes it easier for me to take them out at the knees.
A little over two years ago, I was in a similar frame of mind when the Supreme Court handed down its expected but infuriating decision to overturn Roe v. Wade. Speaking of buckled knees, it was a decision that left me, most women, and a majority of Americans hobbled.
You helped wrestle the weapon from my hands back then, and you’ve done it again, whether you realize it or not.
This time, it started with political mudslinging. I know you don’t waste your energy on that sort of thing, but mere mortals like me have a hard time steering clear of it. It’s not new, of course. The Founding Fathers provided the original guidebook, and I still haven’t learned to look past it completely. The similarity to the verbal abuse served up in middle school cafeterias is astonishing. Middle school. Gah! I can’t think of a time in my own or my kids’ lives that I want to revisit any less, yet here we are doing it adult-style.
Surprisingly, it’s not the idiotic barbs that get to me most. Nasty, low-IQ, crooked–what a bunch of nonsense! What irks me more is that the men mouthing off do it in the context of an opponent’s femaleness. These intrepid leaders, despite all their accomplishments and all the barriers they’ve overcome to get where they are, aren’t just politicians, they’re women politicians. They’re women politicians who are crazy. Or they’re women politicians who are incapable. Or they’re women politicians who are attractive and therefore deserve to be manhandled.
Maybe you’ve heard about the “childless cat ladies,” a remark made three years ago by a current political candidate through which he asserted that leaders without children have less stake in the future of the country than those with families. The comment screams gender bias (Hello? Notice how he specifically targets ladies?). It also suggests that a woman’s purpose is primarily reproductive. I think my Roe v. Wade wound is bleeding again.
On Sunday, and again just before that, I read essays from women not too different in age from me who recounted stories related to sexual assault. As in my own case, one was lucky that the guy took “NO!” for an answer. The other was not.
This is how it goes for all women everywhere, some of us realizing how close we came to disaster, others walking away horrified, humiliated, and forever changed.
This is why it’s hard to not rail against the patriarchy. This is why my frustration—indeed, my anger—resurfaces time and again. Women are tired of having our lives shaped by policies and practices that rob us of our agency. We’re tired of trying to explain to doctors that our pain is real, tired of fighting our employers for equitable pay, tired of being extra alert in the parking garage, at the club, on the trail, in our homes, tired of having to work harder to prove our worth to ourselves and others.
Almost everywhere, we see male-dominance. We also see a lot of destruction and corruption, yet it’s implied we don’t have the chops to lead the country. What is it, exactly, that women are likely to ruin when we gain the power we deserve? From where we sit, it looks like the system could only benefit from our help!
I know I’m preaching to the choir here, and I know you understand. Which brings me back to those exceptions I mentioned early on. Thanks for your patience. See, I’m good at keeping some promises!
Before you reach through the page and shake me by the shoulders, please know that I know women are also full of imperfections. There are women who name-call and stereotype, women who act like asses. There are misguided women, arrogant women, violent women. And yes, of course, there are men of deep integrity and humility, men who know how to be respectful and collaborative, men who make good partners. I live with one.
This is where you come in again. This is what finally made me realize how much credit you deserve and why I needed to make a point—right now, today—of telling you that. You see, quite by surprise, right after I read the stories from those two women, I also read pieces from several men who reminded me that all is not lost. Though I don’t know any of them well, these guys appear to be finding ways to move through the world without bulldozing it. They’re thinking, reaching, making the effort to make improvements, noticing where help is needed, realizing when they need to step back, understanding when it’s time to step up. Given that I practically tripped over their examples, I can only assume that there are hundreds, thousands, maybe even millions of others out there who are similar.
These guys brought me back to you, Joy. I can’t tell you how much I needed that. Their stories? Well, I know you’ll read them, so you’ll see. I’ll give you a way to reach them directly below, and the women, too. Because it means something to stay in touch with these folks, right? That seems like a theme here.
I’m sure you’re as busy as ever keeping up with what’s expected of you, but I do have a small favor to ask: Could you send a little boost their way, an unsolicited compliment, maybe, or a day that feels especially free? Something expansive and elastic that reminds them all how unique and precious they are. I think that would be a good investment on your part, and I think they deserve it.
I’ll wrap up with one final observation, something I’ve noticed just in the last week or so. I’m hearing your name everywhere! I don’t know how you manage to move in so many directions at once, but I see you out there, and I’m grateful. We all are!
Take care of yourself, Joy. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I look forward to hearing from you again soon.
All the best,
Elizabeth
Eileen: I wanted to scream but I didn't. I didn't get how he could be turned on by a drunken, disheveled fifteen year old, but I suppose he assumed I came there to have sex with anyone who was interested. I didn't, but I thought it was my punishment for being somewhere I wasn't supposed to be.
Prue: ‘Excuse me,’ she said, her heart pounding, ‘but how did you get in?’
He held up a master key, his handsome face broken by dazzling white teeth.
‘I beg your pardon!’ She could not disguise her horror.
‘You know why I am here?’
Switter: “...give a little whisper of thanksgiving when you switch on a light, access the internet, enjoy a hot shower, turn on the heating or air conditioner, wear new, clean clothes, travel anywhere in the world by plane, train, automobile, ship, bicycle, or foot, eat food only kings enjoyed in past generations, sleep in comfort, and live without constant threat or fear. But most of all, do not keep your privilege to yourself. Share it freely and without expectations of repayment.
Coleman: “...It turns out that the strength I applied to running people over is the same strength that could be used to carry them. That single shift in my thinking changed everything forever. And do you know what? I'm happy now for the first time in my life.”
Andrew: “Stopping these habits is not merely an act of self-preservation; it’s a testament to my love for you. I want to show you that I love you, truly and deeply. And to do that, I must stop hurting me.”
My reaction is “Indeed! But also…” During periods of introspection over the last decade or so I’ve wondered whether I qualify as an “average” male. Not in a qualitative sense of course (I don’t dare go there!) but empirically. Do the respectful and collaborative men you mention, and those like them, outnumber those who are not? It’s simple math, and unfortunately observation suggests it’s a close call. Recently though I sense the mudslingers, fakes, and unprincipled among us may be losing sway ever so slowly. Or at least not gaining any ground. Which brings me to my point. You remind us about Joy, yet I believe Joy has a collaborator. They are intertwined in a symbiotic relationship. That collaborator is named Hope.
This is such a thoughtful, nuanced piece that avoids all the bashing that alienates those who are just trying to understand. That requires a deft touch. I am most impressed, and I am honored to be included in your chorus of voices in the conclusion. Thank you so much, Elizabeth xoxoxo