I have said this before and I am going to say it again. I am going to vote for Barack Obama for president, here in the contested state of Virginia. I am going to stand outside metro stations and farmers' markets and hand out literature for him. I am going to donate money to him. Any woman who does anything different is, well, wrong.
That said, this article in Salon goes a long way towards capturing how many women feel. I especially endorse the comments concerning Dr. Dean, whom I am unlikely to ever forgive.
They are mad at Howard Dean.
Not simply for allowing the massive befouling of the Democratic process that was Michigan and Florida but for addressing issues of sexism only once Clinton was out of the race. Seriously, the anger at Dean may be some of the most unexpected and intense. At the recent EMILY's List conference, during a panel on gender and the election, Dean's name was the only one that got booed.
Keep it up, asshole. I have a long memory and a big checkbook. I choose where and when to write checks. Fifty states, my sweet, round ass.
And, um, yeah, including the stereotype of my religion:
They are mad at their party and its leaders because they feel this race has opened up a door, allowing people to rag on white women -- as irrelevant and buffoonish, as ambitious and preening, as old school and boring and nagging and hectoring -- in a way that demonstrates that women have a questionable place in liberalism and progressivism. Since when is the party supposedly interested in social justice not interested in the advancement of women to the highest office?
It was, in fact, remarkable, the success with which hoary stereotypes about second-wave feminism got so enthusiastically embraced 30 years past their sell-by date. Who knew how eager the American public -- and more critically, the American left -- was to wholeheartedly embrace the image of Hillary supporters as sexless, humorless, bitter, hysterical old crones. It was simply acceptable -- in a way that was a brisk eye-opener for a lot of young women, even those who didn't support Clinton -- to talk derisively about Clinton and her supporters as whiny, cackling, emasculating witches.
Of course, the ease with which these kinds of stereotypes were bandied about suggests that it is women -- about to take your jobs and your college acceptance letters and your seat in the Oval Office and probably your penis! -- who are the most threatening to the established white male power structure. But it seems that that was rather cold comfort when Clinton women were being steadily assailed with images of themselves as unappealing, pruney old harpies who did all their political thinking with their ovaries.
Obama and the thirty-something male bloggers can keep on choosing to not "get" this (we know you get it). We realize exactly how eager you are to "move beyond" this issue. You're making that disturbingly obvious. We also realize why you're in such an all-fired hurry to "move on" to the "more important" issues. We get it. It does not reflect well on you.
The ERA would be a good place to start. I am just a 50-something old woman with the checkbook and address book to prove it. Just saying.
I'm a woman, a Witch, a mother, a grandmother, an eco-feminist, a gardener, a reader, a writer, and a priestess of the Great Mother Earth. Hecate appears in the
Homeric Ode to Demeter, which tells of Hades who caught Persophone
"up reluctant on his golden car and bare her away lamenting. . . . But no one, either of the deathless gods or of mortal men, heard her voice, nor yet the olive-trees bearing rich fruit: only tenderhearted Hecate, bright-coiffed, the daughter of Persaeus, heard the girl from her cave . . . ."