How To Be a Goddamn Lady

While I was there, I attended a city-sponsored event that was to change much of my attitude about many things, not the least was my attitude about my own self.

A man, who was a paraplegic, had promoted a nationally sponsored “run” across the United States to promote the support of programs for the disabled. He called it “Man In Motion”, and he used a song originally entitled St. Elmo’s fire by John Parr. The event was to end in Seattle, with this gentleman in his super-lightweight travelling wheelchair flying up a major street to the finish line…and indeed, he had travelled by his wheelchair across the entire nation using his own muscle power to roll that wheelchair down roads, highways, sidewalks and dirt tracks until he reached Seattle.

I was in the crowd there to welcome him to the Finish Line. I truly will never forget it…a sweet Spring balmy day, patchy clouds, blue sky, balloons and streamers everywhere, and people of all races, ages and genders lined all along this major boulevard, anticipating a glimpse of this amazing man.

And, then there he was…I was (silly, I know) stunned to see how muscular his upper body was as he pushed those wheels along hand stroke by hand stroke. He was moving rapidly, focused on his goal, and the look of concentration and determination on his face was intense. More intense was the palpable glow of pride, power and positive achievement emanating from him as he raced along that final stretch to the end. The street had been lined with PA speakers and John Parr’s “St. Elmo’s Fire” was blasting at full sound as this man in his wheelchair made his way, and as he did he was singing the lyrics to it. Most of us in the crowd, clapping and jumping madly to cheer him onwards were either screaming “GO, GO!” or singing the lyrics at the top of our lungs. I don’t think anyone had a dry eye…the raw courage of this one human being made us all one in our support of his reaching the intended goal victoriously.

And, he did.

He also raised a lot of money and public awareness which was put to practical use via a special wing to a major medical center to be used for paralyzed patients; a surgical suite, a rehabilitation center and counseling offices were built. This man truly made a real difference due to his actions.

Later, when I had time to think it over, I wondered what it was I had been feeling on that day. What had happened to change something in me? I’ve attended exciting events before; so, why was this so different?

I had bought the recording of the song, and so several days later I played it. And, again, tears rolled down my face as the song played, the memory and feelings of that experience as fresh and new as if it were happening in the moment of listening to the song. Then, it dawned on me…yes, the event was incredibly powerful, and this one man was an incredible individual. Yes, the music was highly inspiring. But, it was the lyrics, the words reached down inside and touched the spirit. The words changed things.

Here are the lyrics:

St. Elmo’s Fire (Man In Motion)

I can hear the music playin’
I can see the banners fly
Feel like you’re back again
And hope ridin’ high
Gonna be your man in motion
All I need is a pair of wheels
Take me where my future’s lyin’
St. Elmo’s Fire

Now, obviously, the lyrics are made even more powerful with the underlying melody and music to carry them. But, these lyrics said to me: courage, the courage to fall to the bottom of life, find yourself utterly alone in a struggle, yet gain the strength to rise, to be more than you were, to NOT break, but to transform your inner spirit to something even stronger and to evoke change in the world—that’s real courage.

Although these lyrics, and the event which personified them, are written by a man and pertain to a man, I feel that any woman also could understand them. I certainly did.

So, how have these lyrics changed me? What happened that day to me on the side of the road as I cheered this incredible man to the finish line, his hands flying across the wheels of his wheelchair?

I became free. Free of the control of the society around me, free of it’s grasp on me as a woman of those times.

I SAW this man doing something concrete about his situation: he had been paralyzed, but he didn’t lie down and die from it or become hateful, he got a wheelchair and learned how to use it. Then, he got a sportchair and learned how to use that. Then he envisioned a way to bring to light the plight of those who are disabled, organized a national event and then actually “drove” that thing with his own hands across 3, 000++ miles. Astounding!

This was freeing to me then, as I saw certain things which had kept me in a kind of confinement in my life. I had not clearly seen how society had become divisive, how women and men were actually being pushed apart, how families were being ripped asunder, how I was not grasping that there really was something truly wrong happening at the foot of all of that: Feminism.

No, what I suddenly saw was the kind of “bondage” that feminism put WOMEN in. That “bondage” proscripted them to try to “do it all”, which no one can do, and therefore they were set up to fail.

Questioning Feminism is far deeper than the question of “should women work?” or “should women get college degrees?” or “should women enter the professions?”

No. Over many centuries women who had the drive and intelligence and vision to do those things did them, regardless. And, they understood what it was to truly partner with a man. My father’s mother graduated in 1904 with a Master’s Degree in Civil Engineering. She couldn’t even vote then, but it surely wasn’t a problem for her to go get that education and then do the work. She was well regarded in the profession, the men respected her and she handled some very large projects in her state. I have proudly gone across the bridges she designed and built, and seen other public works which were hers. My mother’s mother was a rancher’s wife, and once my grandfather passed on, the only female cattle baroness in the USA for many, many years. My great aunt owned two banks and a lumber company, running the daily operations of those companies well into her 90’s. All three women also married, stayed married for many years and two of them also had children. All three were highly intelligent, sensible, stable, caring, well respected and loved men, and I am proud to have known them, even prouder to be the grand-daughter and great niece.

Nope. I’ve never wondered about the question of “can women do anything but have children and cook and clean?”. I find this question pedantic. It’s no different for any human being, for elementally we are ALL different from one another; some are able and willing to do certain things, and some are not.

No, I had somehow hit on the deeper problem. I began to see the horrific error that was the result of “women’s sufferage”, which became “women’s liberation” and then evolved finally into “the feminist movement”. What had begun as an effort to give some balance to women in certain areas so that they could become better partners and participants in marriage and society quickly evolved in to turning over the traces of sensibility entirely.  It became upside down.

Women were to become equal supposedly, but somehow it had gone awry—they were suddenly “better than men”, they were “superwomen”, they could go get the bacon and bring it home and fry it up in a pan. Songs were actually written with those lyrics. What had begun as a serious effort to improve social interactions had suddenly become a tool of destruction, if not farcical silliness.

I had seen the pressure build during my teens, twenties and into my thirties. If you wanted to do any kind of “female work” (ie, teaching, nursing, nanny, beauty operator, etc) you were belittled by the women of NOW and the gals who wore the shoulder pads and carried the brief cases. I should know. As a legal beagle, I was a brief case carrier and as more of them entered to profession, things changed.

It became a “dirty” thing to say that “all” you really wanted to do was marry, manage a home and raise the kids and take care of the house and your husband.  Never mind that raising the next generation is a SERIOUS task when done properly.  Never mind that being your mate’s real partner is a right and proper career in and of itself. Never mind that not all women are cut out for the pressures, requirements and dedication of a working career. No, we were all supposed to march forth in our busines suits and become the Workplace Goddess: beautiful, powerful, rich and above men.

Were men castigating women for wanting to still be wives and mothers? Or for wanting to follow more traditional “female” jobs like being a teacher or nurse? NO…other women did!

This evolved into women not wanting to band together in neighborhoods or community networks as they had in previous generations, but to be devisive to other women in the workplace. Trust me, the “sisterhood” is there, but it’s not always there to help you if you are female, it’s often there to place a knife in your back. Your job and income and perks…they want that. Your man, your house, well, hey with the mindset of “it’s all about ME”, why not?

And, this insight hit me waaaaay before the media-driven, internet-supported Princess Entitlement Attitude became so prevalent.

And, so, by seeing the imbalance, by seeing that things had become twisted in a way that those venerable women who were my grandmothers and great aunt would have abhored, I decided to use my own skills, energies and knowledge to become a traitor (and believe me, I was called that and worse by other women) to step in to the battle to aid in the battle for men’s/father’s rights. It was the only concrete thing I could think to do being just one person.

It was the courage of that man in the wheelchair which prompted me:

You broke the boy in me
But you won’t break the man

And, I stood there that day, listening to the plaintive words:

Just once in his life
A man has his time
And my time is now
And I’m comin’ alive

And, those words were meant for me, too.  You broke the girl, but you can’t break the woman.

And, my time was now.

And, so, step by step, quietly I made a shift in my life as a person and in my career. I became a “traitor to my sex” and stood up for the rights of men and fought for the rights of their children, too. I found that, over time, it was also fighting for the rights of many women also. Often, when arbitration and counseling was encouraged (as I often did with my clients), families would work out their problems and stay together.  And if the did not, at least there was someone’s voice saying, “Hey…what about the other side? The fathers, the husbands? What about the side that society now says is worthless? How is this any different than if it were said that women’s voices are worthless?”

I thank that amazing man in his wheelchair, and John Parr’s song and inspirational lyrics. That man inspired me to change myself and to try to effect change in the society I was part of.

After all, a Lady’s gotta do what a Lady’s gotta do.