I sat down with Olaia last night to read her a book. "Hmm, let’s see… what shall we read?" I grabbed a collection from her bookshelf, flipped through the table of contents for something fun to read. I read the titles aloud so that she may shout out when she heard something she’d like.
"No. No. No," she answered to each of the selections.
"How about Encyclopedia Brown? I used to read those when I was just a little older than you are now – when I was a little boy. I always liked Encyclopedia Brown."
"Okay, Daddy, sounds good."
I began to read. The story started with a little introduction to Encyclopedia Brown’s family. Idaville was an idyllic little town where no crimes went unsolved. Encyclopedia’s father was the chief of police. He was very successful. Little known to all, though, was the fact that his son Leroy "Encyclopedia" Brown was behind his father’s success. His prodigious intellect had earned him his nickname. It was a happy family, happy and successful and perfect. Dad was the chief of police and his son was the crime solving engine powering Idaville’s crime-free environment.
"Daddy, what does Encyclopedia Brown’s mommy do?"
A funny little crooked smile crept onto my face. "Well gosh, Olaia, that’s a mighty good question." Quick Jim, think fast. What does his mommy do. I am always unmasked by my insightful daughter. She has this knack for cutting through pretense and slicing snip snap right to the incongruence of a matter. Myself, I carry my load of 1970’s preconceptions and "common" sense. I’m a child of the rising action of the feminist movement, with all its rancor and discord.
"A woman’s place is in the home," I heard from one.
"A woman’s place is in the office," came another.
"Equal rights! Equal rights!" was screamed all around. What was it all about, I had no idea. Something was being birthed, but I knew not what.
Fast forward to present day. Maureen Dowd laments the failures of feminism. "We pushed too hard to be like men. We took the fun out of being women, and now there’s a backlash. Now we’ve gone too far the other way, back to sex objects, back to finding husbands to complete us," she flirted in a recent interview with Tim Russert. "Maybe some things stuck, though."
How do I explain to Olaia what Encyclopedia’s mom did without demeaning her role? After all, she loved her family, we just didn’t notice her.
I didn’t notice her.
"Olaia, back when this book was written, mommies didn’t work outside of the home as much. People didn’t like for them to have jobs, so they took care of their families. They would cook dinner, clean, and make sure everybody was okay. Things have changed since then. It was a long time ago, but now mommies and daddies work together in the house and outside of the house. Mommies can do anything they want. Does that make sense."
Olaia had noticed her, and now that I had explained myself and Encyclopedia’s unnamed mother, she was ready to go. "Yes, okay, let’s read the book."
Of course it made sense to her. What didn’t make sense was there was no mention of Encyclopedia’s mommy and what she did. For all intents she didn’t exist except as an apron clad figure serving a casserole to Encyclopedia Brown and his dad.
Today’s beautiful "common" sense is the unassailable expectation that girls can do anything boys can do – anything they desire. It’s as common and natural as anything could ever be, as real as conceived, born, nurtured, educated, tortured, and eventually fully grown. Feminism and feminists should take heart. Today’s girls and young ladies come of age with a new common sense, a new and entirely distinct awareness of what is possible and expected of them.
And my lovely lovely little girl, Olaia, what of her? She gets to wear a dress if she wants too. She gets to study what interests her. She gets to be what she was meant to be without the limiting oligarchy of generations past.
And my personal observation: overlook her insight at your own peril.