My parents stopped by to visit me on Saturday on their way to the airport to visit my brother and the new grandbaby. Even though my parents sometimes complain about how little they see me, they never stop by my house unless they are on their way somewhere else. But that works out ok for me. They brought me dinner (because they felt bad that I'd lost my voice again), and my dad drank all of my juice--which as supposed to be helping my voice. But I suppose it's ok since I probably drank all of their juice at some point in my life.
At one point in the evening, I was chatting with my mom about her book group, trying to give her some suggestions for her upcoming choice. Currently, they are reading The Good Earth, and I asked her how that was going. "I almost threw it away after the first chapter, it made me so mad," she declared. And she sounded genuinely angry. Her anger came from the way women were addressed and perceived, how the protagonist (or the protagonist's father? I can't remember) wanted a wife so that he wouldn't have to do housework anymore, that he would have someone to work for him. Growing up, my parents always seemed a bit dismayed at my feminist views on the world. I always knew the views came from my mother, but she would never admit it. So I am delighted that it's finally out, that's she declared her outrage publicly. There's no hiding it now, no pretending that I'm some weirdo with no apparent connection to their worldview.
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this reminds me of my late grandmother's (first woman to graduate from medical school in pennsylvania)refusal to admit to feminist beliefs. I think for her that meant being pro-choice or something. But my dad swears she never cooked a meal (they had a housekeeper). when I was an undergrad I wanted to talk to her about her (feminist?) lifestyle, and she wouldn't admit to it. But she always told me "be a doctor, not a nurse." She was a feminist, even if she eschewed the title.
I dig this particularly since my mom and my grandma would have never put up with the ill-treatment displayed in many novels of their various eras. My mom and my grandma, of course, were working-class (one might even classify my family as peasant if we were in China,but we owned the land we were on, so that throws a wrench in that connection) and held jobs nearly all their lives. Mom had a 50's housewife stint long before I can remember since Dad had a good solid job and made the American Dream come true (since he didn't have to buy the farm he inherited etc) but she pine for work so much that after I was old enough she went back to it with full force. Work was her way and so it was for my grandma. Now, of course, I don't want to just to identify "value" with work, but these women definitely had that engrained in them and didn't like taking crap from anyone as far as work goes. What does all this mean? Well, ultimately, like you conclude, I think that most women of any generation understand what feminists are going for even if they shy away from the label. I mean my hell, are there really any Gayle Rudzikas out there besides Gayle Rudzika? Even she is a contradiciton, and she doesn't get what a contradiction she is.
Rant/ramble off.
I've found that true with many Mormon women in my ward. I've been in a couple of arguments with Mormon women:
"You are a feminist, really."
"No, I'm not; I just love my work and believe women should be treated fairly."
"Right. That's a FEMINIST!"
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