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A Gift that Kept on Giving
  

12.09.04
 
 


One Christmas when I was in high school, I asked my Dad for my own bow. He had shown me how to use his, and sometimes I would do target practice with him and my brothers. He hunted with a bow and arrow, and took one or both of my brothers with him if they wanted to go. I hated the idea of hunting and the thought of killing a deer or any other thing, so why I wanted this bow, I really don't know. Perhaps, I just did not like the idea that I was always left out. I always hated the idea that the boys could do things I couldn't.

Sometimes he was so confusing.

On the one hand, he sent the message that I should "be a lady and act like one," especially as I got older. I felt as if all I was expected to do was sit home with my mother and sew or something, while the guys were out having some kind of fun. He also made sure to let me know that there were certain careers which he thought were suitable for women, among them nurse or teacher. But there was certainly no point to waste money on sending me to medical school or law school because I would only “find a man, get married, and all that money and time would be wasted.”

Yet other times, he encouraged the sorts of activities which back then, in the 50's, were seen more as male pursuits--fishing, archery, and even riflery. Yep, I was once a teen member of the NRA, and I have the medals and certificates to prove it. He also sometimes took me out in the boat to fish with him, and I enjoyed spending that time with him.

And, he did get me that bow for Christmas. I spent a while learning how to use it and taking archery classes one summer, but the whole fascination wore off, and I really never pursued it after that. I think I just wanted to ask for it and not be denied, and that in itself was satisfying enough for me.

These small opportunities he gave me to have more than a peripheral knowledge about some “guy” stuff later helped make me feel more in control of my life. I’m sure that's also why I am not afraid of, and actually like using tools. It really gives me a sense of power over my environment. And being able to maintain and repair my tools, as well as to actually make a tool I need for a specific purpose is very empowering.

Let’s say in practical terms, if I ever get stuck in the post apocalypse millennium or something, I guess I’d at least feel like I could build shelter or catch food if it came to that.

The thing is, though, he gave me survival skills in a very different way than he ever imagined, or planned. In spite of his many efforts to the contrary, my dad unwittingly raised me to feel that I deserved equality. He set the stage for me to become a feminist.

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