My mom once called me up after listening to an interview featuring Barbra Streisand and explained quite passionately that Streisand was called a diva whereas men in the music industry are not for the very same qualities, and that she thought maybe she understood what I was going on about when I complain about inequality between men and women in the workplace.
It made me grin a whole lot.
Background: my mother is my best friend. She is a really fucking awesome lady. We disagree a lot, mostly about feminism and gender and the way the world works when it comes to both of those topics. I think my mom feels a little bit betrayed sometimes, because as I’ve mentioned before, I was not always who I am today. I did not always think the thoughts that exist in my head now. Just this afternoon she asked me about my opinion on a topic we had talked about extensively when I was in high school, and I confirmed that my perspective on the subject has changed a complete 180 degrees over the past few years. She wasn’t surprised. But yeah, I think, without putting words in her mouth or thoughts in her head, my mom misses the days when the focus of our conversations didn’t revolve so much around those issues. I realize I can be annoying in my obsessional fixation on feminism and gender and how they function in the world we live in, and sometimes I think my mom just wants things to revert back to the way they used to be. I also worry that she feels judged sometimes, which is never my intention. I worry that a lot of my close friends feel judged by me, sometimes. I don’t want to make anyone feel that way.
Anyway, because we love each other, and because we are best friends, my mom and I make a concerted effort to tackle these intense topics, and to keep the conversations going, and to educate each other as best as we both know how. And sometimes, I just get really fucking happy and proud with the way she comes to conclusions that I don’t know if she would have been able to articulate a few years ago.
For example, the Barbra Streisand interview. And also, this afternoon. I called her to inquire how her weekend has been going, what with the Boston Aquapocalypse and all, and she told me about a weird thing that had happened during a dinner she attended. Without going into details, lest any middle-aged adults from Newton are checking up on my blog and recognize themselves featured and get all offended, my mother witnessed something that made her feel as though the “boys club” still exists. She saw this thing happen between two men she considers friends, good fathers/husbands, kind people, and all around nice guys. It was not an intense experience––simply a comment that felt uncomfortable, a wink that reeked of collusion. In that moment, she told me, “I felt like maybe this patriarchy you always talk about really does exist.”
And you know what? I teared up. I know that sounds absurd, but I can’t help it, it’s the truth. I do not want to seem as though I’m belittling my mother, or condescending to her, or treating her like a child. She is a smart woman, and she has always had a strong sense of what is right or wrong. As I told her, I’m sure that even 10 years ago, this incident would have made her uncomfortable, because that’s the gut reaction. But what made me feel so emotional as she told the story with such confidence was the fact that she has internalized a language to discuss such situations. The fact that I think the actual comment she made was incredibly adorable is probably specific to the fact that I’m her daughter, but in all seriousness, I don’t know that she would have reached that same conclusion about the situation had we not been having intense, sometimes emotionally exhausting and upsetting, conversations over the past few years. And the idea that all the things I say, sometimes calmly and sometimes, admittedly, in not such an eloquent or poised fashion, have been sinking in and that she is really listening when I speak, means so much to me. I just…yeah, I just felt like crying.
I told her that, and in return she told me that she felt proud of the way I can articulate myself during disagreements, and the clear-headed nature with which I have been approaching our topics of conversation recently. That made me feel even more emotional and happy. I hope she’s right––regardless of the topic or of the opposing opinions I face, I’d like to think I can always discuss things in a way that is beneficial to all parties and that is productive and conducive to moving us forward into a better world. I would say that’s definitely an ultimate goal.
