In honor of Fathers’ Day, I, a lifelong feminist, would like to salute fathers everywhere and, in particular, my husband, son, stepson, and son-in-law. They are all awesome dads.
Partly I’m motivated because of a weird backlash going on right now against feminism. Some people say it’s about hating men. Nothing could be further from the truth. The feminism I fell in love with, back in the 1970s, was about letting people fulfill their dreams and potential without regard to gender-related cultural conventions.
Like letting men cuddle and nuzzle their children, and cry if they felt like it. Stay at home with the kids instead of working. We were slow to realize it, but I think we’re finally coming to understand how critically important fathers are to their children’s development.
My own dad was a complicated guy. Because of my tough homelife, and seeing Mom trapped by her circumstances, I grew up vowing never to be dependent on anybody. I started working at a very young age, and had strong ideas about women being able to support themselves. A feminist had been born, and my dad, overbearing and dictatorial, was responsible.
In more benevolent ways, he helped me develop into the kick-ass professional woman I became. He was famous for saying, “Any excuse is a good excuse.” Which meant, of course, that no excuse mattered. Thus, as I matured, I became embarrassed to make excuses. I simply delivered, a useful trait in life and work.
As I came into my own, Dad enjoyed hearing my stories of the corporate jungle, and my increasingly clever vine-swinging. I was his business kid. He was my first mentor. Much of my success is due to him. I still have his monogrammed briefcase on display in my office.
Dad passed on in 2008, just before the Great Recession hit. Which was a blessing, because he lived through such a traumatic childhood during the Great Depression that, like many of his contemporaries, he still indulged in scarcity rituals right up until his death. Like buying food in bulk, and keeping a gigantic freezer packed with meat and staples, even though he was only feeding himself and Mom.
It’s been almost six years since he died, and I’m embarrassed to say there are days and days I don’t think about him, and many days I think about him without any pain at all. But sometimes, like when I hear Spanish Eyes, a great favorite of his and the last song to which he danced with Mom, grief comes roiling through my heart like a blinding, dark, smashing tidal wave. It seems insurmountable. Incomprehensible.
How is it possible I’ll never see him again?
Dad and Grandma c 1925
What a fine tribute to your father and the ways that he defined you. It was interesting that due his overbearing nature, which was fairly typical in that era, instead of becoming meeker, you learned to roar. No wonder we relate so well – I fell in love with the same kind 1970s feminism, which was as you so aptly put it “about letting people fulfill their dreams and potential without regard to gender-related cultural conventions.”
Pat, that was one of the things I loved about your book, the implicit feminism in it. You weren’t comfortable being a girly-girl. In a time when we were limited to cheerleader jobs while the boys got to play, you demanded to play. In spite of the fact that the culture wasn’t welcoming for a tall, lean, powerful female athlete, you persevered in the face of great hardship. What a tribute to your own parents!
Perfect, Lynne. You made me glad AND broke my heart. How do you keep doing that?!
Thanks, Jan. And the answer, I guess, is I write from mine.
A touching tribute, not only to your Dad, but to a generation of Dads who, like it or not, put strength and responsibility above compassion and understanding. Those attributes continue to be important, but hopefully we have moved beyond a one dimensional male role model to something broader, and more all encompassing in nature. Women took the lead in this change, and it seems to me that in some respects men are just starting their forward momentum. No matter, more and more people are on the right path, moving toward a deeper understanding of what it means to be a human being – male or female.
Dorothy, what a beautiful and deep comment. You are so right on all counts. Both men and women are due “a deeper understanding of what it means to be human.” Thank you so much. And I apologize for the delay in approving your comment. Since the redesign I’ve had to reapprove all my long-time commentors! But after the first, your future comments will go up automatically. Best wishes.