Breaking the Sound Barrier

This election year has been interesting, especially for women. It’s hard not to feel attacked by politicians and judges that are putting women’s lives at risk, and trying to put us in our place. At the same time, for the second time in our history, we have a real chance at representation in the oval office. It’s exciting and terrifying and it’s got some of us on edge.

My 17-year old daughter is becoming increasingly interested in the world of politics, and has been testing out her knowledge and exploring her emerging beliefs in conversations with me. It’s part of the process of growing up! No matter how her views develop over time, I aim to not impose my own ideals but ask questions and stay in curiosity-mode so she feels safe and so we can both learn from the exchange. I am not always successful, especially in this election year, but I try.

Last week, while I was folding clothes on the couch, she was scrolling on TikTok and said to me, “Kamala’s voice is so annoying.”

My back straightened. My palms started sweating. WHAT DID SHE SAY?!

My daughter and I are close, and our relationship is mutually supportive, accepting and open. We work hard at it.  But this comment sent me back into the dark ages where I felt myself wanting to parent. And PARENT hard. I wasn’t curious. I was pissed.

I took a deep breath and this is what I remember saying because honestly, I think I blacked out. 

“I am going to say something to you that you are not going to like, but I want you to listen to me and you will have a chance to respond.

As an almost-50 year old woman, that comment is so triggering. You don’t have my experiences or my generational context, so I don’t expect you to understand or share my view, but to me, it is a dangerous thing to say.  Because what it actually suggests is: Kamala is a woman, and we don’t like women.”

“Mom, you’re overreacting.”

It’s not her fault. She has never sat in a room full of men, over and over, unable to pinpoint exactly why a woman wasn’t cut out for the next thing, or the current thing, or anything for that matter. And when the attempts were made to explain what the gap actually was, what came out were vague, but biting allusions to her gender. She’s a bitch (assertive). She’s a know-it-all (intelligent). She’s ambitious (driven). She’s unfriendly (professional). She tries too hard (takes initiative). All of these being pluses for a male candidate, but just not feeling right in a woman. The irony is that women tend to bring this level of annoying perfection to what they do in response to being ignored, challenged and interrupted at every turn. Every misstep monitored, every action scrutinized. And men (and some women) sucking on their teeth with anger, envy and judgment wielding their power to cut her out. 

“But mom, I really do think her voice is annoying.”

Maybe it is. But I don’t care. 

My daughter, on the cusp of graduating from high school, has expressed interest in building a career in a very male-dominated field, where only 5% of women make it. To make matters worse, 55% of the women in this field report being assaulted. Today, she often nests and rests in the safety of our family. How do I prepare her further for what is to come when she’s so full of hope and optimism - and swagger! - all that comes with starting to make your way in the world? If I’m honest, I envy that feeling.

All I can do is relentlessly support her whether she soars, falters or gets pushed, and tell her my stories, tell her your stories and continue to foster a relationship with her where she is willing to hear them out of respect and consideration for the life I have lived so far.

I can continue to encourage her to be bold, and follow her energy where it leads her, but to keep her eyes wide open - and emotionally invest in a support system she will most definitely need to lean on. I can teach her to assert herself and fight like hell if anyone tries to touch her because chances are, they will. And I can help her to be more self-aware of how seemingly meaningless comments she makes might contribute to decades of misogyny, like so many women do unknowingly, and to not feel one ounce of shame in it, but learn from it - and try to do better. 

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