Sadly Passing The Torch

I had dinner with my parents last weekend, and started talking about Chris Matthews. Like many people, they only really knew about the statement that he apologized for, and not about the numerous other sexist things he'd said. My mother suggested that this was actually anti-Clintonism couched in sexist terms, rather than the other way around, and I told her that I'd wondered that myself until I saw all the many other misogynist things he's said. I emailed her the link, and when I saw her next she talked to me a bit about her reactions.

She seemed weary as she spoke. She'd been penning an email to me on the subject, but couldn't seem to finish it--it took my being home sick, and her trip uptown to feed me ginger ale, before she could really bring herself to talk about it. What she expressed was the same depression I often feel about being a woman in this society, the fundamental sorrow over the inevitable realization that, however far we've come, however hard we've fought--and she's been fighting, hard, for a long time--there are still people eager to shoot us down at every turn.

I'm not used to seeing my mother wilt this way--she doesn't get depressed (I get that from my dad) or even really understand what depression is like, experientially. She gets mad. To see her hit a wall where even anger didn't help was very powerful. I've already identified my mother with Hillary Clinton, and I think she identifies with her herself. How could she not? They're both strong, fiercely intelligent 60-year-old women who've fought their way to the upper echelons of extremely male-dominated fields. They've both had their appearance and femininity scrutinized--my mom has said that people at work have long perceived her as "bull dykish," despite the joy she takes from make-up, jewelry, and clothing. (Hell, she just had a facelift.) It must be very triumphant for her to see one of her sistren climb so high, and very demoralizing to see her practically stoned to death by so many.

Interestingly, what she expressed the most hurt about was Katie Couric. There are plenty of reasonable, non-sexist qualms a person could have with Clinton or Pelosi or the like, but my mother says, "Explain Katie Couric." Sigh.

My mother rallied, of course. But there was a subtext to what she was saying. It went something like, "This is what I need to tell you about what it's like being a woman." It was a warning, a hard truth. Somehow, it was also a bit inspiring. Perhaps just as a quiet bonding moment with my mother. I was going to write, "but also as..." something else. But I couldn't think of what the something else might be.