Wednesday, October 30, 2013

Culture Change: Up Front and Personal


Responsibility to yourself means refusing 
to let others do your thinking, talking, and naming for you... 
It means that we insist on a life of meaningful work. 
It means, therefore, the courage to be "different"
                                   — Adrienne Rich
  
The first problem for all of us, men and women, 
is not to learn, but to unlearn. 

                                                                          — Gloria Steinem

                                  Well-behaved women seldom make history. 
                                                                           — Laurel Thatcher Ulrich

All cultures change over time. Today, increasingly frequent change has become the “new normal.” We may be nostalgic for how things “used to be” – and wish for those times when our lives seemed as stable as the regular changing of the seasons. Now, as weather patterns are changing, we can’t even count on seasonal cycles to be predictable!

It is easy to name big changes that have happened during our lives. “Techno-tools” give us instant connection with the entire world. Legislation has diminished many discriminatory practices. Increasingly multi-diverse populations have become the norm in many towns and cities. There have been changes in political alliances with other countries. Roles of men and women have become more fluid. Increased travel beyond local communities has changed our perspective of the world. Complex wars can no longer be thought of as the good guys against the bad guys. The list of changes is long. 

Such major shifts have altered what it means to live in today’s world. These big changes impact our personal daily lives in a multitude of ways. When we search for explanations that create cultural changes, we tend to externalize beyond our individual selves and attribute the power to alter society to world leaders, celebrities, or other prominent people. However, we ordinary people contribute to change as well - often being unaware that we are doing so.

The other day our Ethiopian neighbor was talking with my husband. My husband asked him if they were having a party at his house because of all the cars. No, no, our neighbor said, the women are cooking and they shooed me out of the house. In our culture, only the women cook. When I first came here before my wife, I learned to cook, but she doesn’t know that I can cook . . .

When my husband related their conversation to me, he was laughing and shaking his head over this cultural difference. That is until I reminded him that he didn’t begin to learn to cook either until 15 years ago!

Both of us grew up a culture that was just as traditional as our neighbor’s culture. I remember one Tuesday morning when I was fifteen. My mother carefully was ironing my father’s weekly supply of white shirts. While she ironed, she instructed me in what it meant to be a woman. I still remember her words - the finest thing a woman could do with her life was to bring out the best in her husband.

In the fifties, the era in which I was raised, roles were clearly defined for both men and women. I thoroughly was schooled to assume my role. My place was in the home. And my husband would work hard as the sole support of his family.

Among the many rules that I learned, was that a proper woman wore white shoes only between Memorial Day and Labor Day. The correct shoes were to be accompanied by those blessed white gloves! Now, have you ever tried to turn pages of a hymnal during a small town’s obligatory Sunday worship  - while wearing white gloves?

I tried very hard to be a good traditional wife and mother. Picking up my children’s toys when strewn from one end of the house to the other. Religiously studying Better Homes and Gardens when it came in the mail every month - its decorating tips and delicious recipes to be tried out on my family. Canning tomatoes and pickles for long winter months. Sewing clothes for my children and myself. I even tried my hand at making ties for my hard-working husband.

However, invention of permanent press meant I did not need to iron white shirts every Tuesday, just as my mother did. A dishwasher took over the task of washing dishes. Laundry went from washer to dryer – not hung on clotheslines. My assigned life-long role of mother and housewife began to fray around the edges.

When my second child went to nursery school (which my brother-in-law declared an unnecessary waste of money), it was only me all morning long in a silent house. What would my life be like when they were in school all day, with my husband putting in long hours at work? I did the math - my mother had “lied” to me about this life-long calling as wife and mother! When I would be only forty-three years old, both of my children would have graduated from high school. Then whatever would I do every day for the rest of my life?

When I graduated from college, I married my childhood sweetheart. I gave up any dreams of going to graduate school – the only purpose for that college degree was that it would be there “in case something happened” to my husband, like a savings account for life’s unplanned emergencies.

When I thought of this second half of my life, I cautiously resurrected my forbidden dream. My children would be well established in grade school and have their own activities when I finished graduate school. Was it possible that I could have my own profession, raise my children, and support my husband’s career goals?

Off came those miserable white gloves. I tossed them in the trash! I was determined to create a life my mother could not comprehend.

The year I arrived at graduate school, women were burning their bras in protest of something I did not understand. Why ever would they do such a strange thing? I had been too busy being a wife and mother that I did not have time to read The Feminine Mystique, published a few years earlier. I just did not want to be bored with the rest of my life – not become part of some movement.

My naïveté was soon challenged when I discovered that being admitted to graduate school was no guarantee I would be able to get a job in my chosen profession. And I learned how many “mothers” in my culture still subscribed to the definition of roles from the long past fifties. They were joined by a strong male contingent – determined to insure the world remained a man’s world.

It has been a long journey – one I never could have made without my beloved husband’s support. Swirling winds of change about both opportunities and barriers for women deeply affected me. In turn, I contributed to those changes through my professional work as a psychologist, teaching as adjunct faculty member at a local seminary, and participating in professional committees.

Along the way I met many frustrated and angry women. I met other women working to create change, who said they were breaking down barriers for their daughters. Change did happen. Women and men gradually had more choices and opportunities during different stages in their lives about how they could balance relationships, family, and work.

For myself? I broke rules right and left – sometimes at considerable personal cost. At times it was hard to stop listening to the small voice inside of me that said I should be at home, not out in the world. However, I created a life I never dreamed possible when I was growing up.

Most important, beyond contributing to all these cultural changes, I was having a wonderful time using my intelligence. I welcomed the challenges to use gifts with which I was born. I made a difference in people’s lives through my work. My marriage became a partnership. Together we raised our children and created a home that we both love.

Today I am using the accumulation of a lifetime of wisdom that I have been given, to fulfill another “impossible dream” – that of further exploring my creativity by being a photographer, writer, and poet.

It’s like having your cake and eating it too!

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