Confessions of an Antifeminist...

Mon and Del were the first to challenge my father's old fashioned and severe tactics of parenting. Everytime they came over, a challenging, agressive argument ensued. I saw him peruse their introductions to the reasoning method of discipline. Nope, it rarely budged him. He would stew over the new concepts around the house and spouted arguments for a few days.
I really loved that my daddy was transparent to us. He let us see his development of thought. He allowed us to look at his adulthood as a growth process. He wasn't in charge because he was right, but because he was dad. We learned to respect hi. s authority, whether we agreed or not. I respected that he made it clear that he didn't have a father and he was going to give his children something he didn't have. He recited every observation of masculinity to me and how it shaped him.
In terms of his severe discipline, with girls, Monica was the only one to stand up to him. In our family respect didn't always mean agreement. Those two disagreed, most intensely. First cousins they were, Monica was the voice of higher education.
I do remember the first Thanksgiving the happy and adored couple came home for Thanksgiving with their 2 toddlers. They were beautiful. They were educated, emancipated and equals. He was tall and powerful, a runner, a coach, a professor. She, now a mother was making it very clear that she was not about to let motherhood slow her down in her taking life by the horns. I am still in competition and growth in my profession. No talk of diapers and child development, except to challenge the status quo. She was all of our, intellectual superior, we all knew that. We should all be sitting at her feet. She had speed of thought and command of language. It was clear that the happy couple were teammates. This was a completely new concept for us all. No servitude and commander, teammates. She said things to Del that made us all look at eachother and say, who is the boss here?

I remember the glowing look that they both had, in their late 20's and I in my early 10's. They were the special guest star at the family celebration, anytime they came home.

The song, Young Gifted and Black seemed written just about them. Still, I never said that is what I want to be when I grow up. Dad always said it. You will be like, Monica. He admired her greatly. No.
As soon as she opened her mouth, I recoiled. Her words seemed to me to be dissembling our family and the command method that we had learned.

I know now that because of my headship of being an older sister, the thought of each person commanding themselves was a blow to my ego and my totalitarian headship of my younger siblings. I had little mercy, in those days. Commands were to be followed immediately and without question. I walked away from her little disciple group, sadly. I cannot embrace her words, as much as I wanted to. It would mean the end of my regime as well as my father's.

Confessions of an Antifeminist

Believe it or not, I am old enough to remember the early days of the feminist revolution. I remember most women, being married with children. Definitely, on TV, this was the case, even if it wasn't in my life. My mom was an at home mom, but both my grandmas were single mothers and very savvy with themselves; tremendously believers in women's rights.
Because my daddy had been reared in a female dominated family, he felt it his mission, to share the pitfalls of living in such a state. Anything, that hurt my daddy used to hurt me. I understood the look on his face of loss and grief, when he saw others' fathers, interacting with them.
I told you, this morning dear Evvie, about the development of family concensus in our family. The attacks and some of the effects of the philosophies that grew up in the 60s.