
My intellectual self has always been aware of the fact that women often do not get a fair shake.
Women work harder for less. The careers that have been historically female do not garner the same earning power as the careers that have been historically male. Men seem to get more recognition for being good fathers than women get for being good mothers – it is somehow expected that women will mother well given their “natural” proclivity toward nurturing, whereas a nurturing man is perceived as an anomaly. Hillary gets called Hillary while Barrack gets called Obama.
I could go on, but you get the point. I have not been oblivious to the “plight” of women. Intellectually.
Emotionally. That’s another story. I just wasn’t there.
And it’s not because I have never experienced the subtle (and not so subtle) discrimination against women. I’ve been talked down to in all matters involving cars and power tools. I bore the brunt of the blame for the failure of my marriage – a stay-at-home mother should be able to manage to keep her home intact, after all, what else does she have to do? I’ve been asked why I don’t wear more form fitting clothes so that I can “show off” my body or “put on my face” before I go out in public. I’ve heard teachers make excuses for the behavior of boys because “boys will be boys” while girls get reprimanded for the very same behaviors.
Yes, these things disturbed me. They bothered me enough that I have talked often with my children about equal rights, their right to be treated as a human being and not ranked according to gender. But I have never been red-in-the-face-shake-my-fist-curse-the-injustice-of-it-all angry.
Until I learned about the Second Congo War. It has been characterized as the deadliest conflict since the end of World War II. Perhaps you’ve heard of it.
I hadn’t.
A friend opened my eyes by forwarding me this 60 Minutes video.
3 comments:
I know it's not enough to weep for those women, but that is my firast reaction. And horror that these soldiers can do this to their own people. There was trouble in the Congo when I was a girl. Irish troops were routinely sent there to help keep the peace. It seems to me they'd be better off if they were still a colony of Great Britain. That's probably a shocking thing to say, but they weren't butchering each other at such a rate when the Brits were in the driver's seat. One of my cousins, who is a nurse, spent several years over there working for Trocaire [which is Irish for "mercy."]
Didn't expect anything this heart-wrenching when I clicked over to see what you were up to. It was a riveting read...
Thank you for this much needed wake up call.
Love, love and more love to one helluva strong woman!
I share your red-faced, fist-shaking anger...and I can't even read the stories or watch the videos.
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