Blue Notes from a Red Zone

Equal Rights

“Well, we share one love, but we’re not the same. We have to carry each other, carry each other…” – Bono

Way back in the last century, when I was a young law student, I spent a lot of my time on foot or on the subways of Washington D.C. It was a wonderful experience. I loved crossing the Key Bridge, skirting the southern rim of Georgetown, passing through the gleaming business districts, heading down Pennsylvania Avenue and cutting across Lafayette Park to my office near the White House. After work, I would continue east, through Chinatown, past the Supreme Court, and over to class. Stepping into Georgetown University’s Law School gave me a thrill each time I crossed the threshold.

Every morning I looked forward to walking through one of the most fascinating cities on earth. The people I saw were endlessly diverse, speaking languages whose origin I could not hope to pinpoint. The seasons were ever-changing, something I have deeply missed as a Floridian. Even when weather forced me into the subways, I was happy to make the trip. There was always some person, some protest, some something to catch the eye and mind.

Sometime during my third year of law school, starting with my fifth month of pregnancy, this routine became a little more onerous. By my seventh month of pregnancy, I was a full-time subway rider. Despite my youth and general good health, even the subway trip became challenging, as I juggled law books, briefs and briefcase against an ever-burgeoning belly. There was never an available seat, and not once did anyone offer to give up their seat for me.

I was complaining about this to a fellow law student, a very nice and earnest young man, and he looked stunned. “Why should you want anyone to offer you a seat?” he asked with great perplexity. “You do believe in equal rights, don’t you?”

I was shocked. “Absolutely I believe in equal rights,” I answered. “I think men should have an equal opportunity to get pregnant, place an additional 20 pounds directly on their lower abdomen, lose their center of balance, put pressure on their backs and bladders 24 hours a day, stand on swollen feet for eight hours working as a law clerk, then struggle with another 30 pounds of books while they seek to find some sort of balance as they cling to a handrail on a train moving 80 miles an hour. However, since we have not yet achieved this glorious day, I think those people who are able-bodied should offer their seats to anyone who may be temporarily or permanently physically disadvantaged, be it through a ski accident, an advanced pregnancy, or the infirmity of old age.”

Chris just gaped at me. “I didn’t realize being pregnant was physically taxing,” he said. “I’ll definitely make it a point to offer pregnant women my seat.”

“Add mothers with babies and toddlers to your list also,” I said.

This incident came back to me as I witnessed an episode involving my daughter and one of her friends. She was struggling with a toddler, a diaper bag, a car seat, a knapsack and a duffel bag, while her friend, a perceptive and insightful young man, was busy elsewhere with less demanding chores. As she finished loading the trunk of the car, she said, “I could have used some help.”

His reply, spoken in jest, was “I thought you believed in equal rights.”

Both Chris and my daughter’s friend are incredibly empathetic and progressive men, who respect women and honor their place in society. But they reflect at least in a small way the difficulty we have all had in determining what the ideal of equal rights should encompass.

When the feminist movement first broke upon the national scene in the 1970s, many men were angered at the idea that they would be competing for top jobs with women. They were unhappy at the idea of egalitarian marriages, and shared responsibilities. But they leaped at the opportunity to abandon any pretense of civility toward women. Apparently it had been trying their nerves for generations not to slam doors in the faces of women who were walking behind them, or to allow pregnant women and elderly couples first opportunity at seats on a bus.

To be fair, there were women who tossed their heads and snorted at men who sought to be polite, saying “I can open my own g__d___ door, you jerk.” But most women were pleased to hold doors open for whoever came behind them, and to thank the people who held doors for them. However, the opportunities for thanking men who did this became rather rare.

Thirty years later, those same men have learned that the feminist movement was the best thing that ever happened to them. The convenience is amazing. Courtesy may easily be abandoned, as women are expected to cope with 15 bags of groceries, three children, and a dog by themselves in the name of equality. Men no longer need to carry the strain of providing for a family by themselves, as women are entitled to work as long and as hard as they do, though for less money. The courtesies attendant upon male/female relationships have been tossed into the trash heap of history, as men expect women to express equal rights to one-night stands and casual encounters. Best of all, the specter of sharing household and childcare responsibilities never actually came to pass. Another young man of my acquaintance can happily plan his “guy room” complete with pool table, video games, sound systems, giant flat-screen TVs, and blink when asked what type of room he planned to reserve for his wife. “She has a room,” he said. “It’s called the kitchen.”

I realize I’m being overly harsh and judgmental. Progress has been made, even if it has seemed to stall over the last five years. Men are more aware of the demands of household life, and many of the younger men I know are fully engaged in meeting them. These same men have learned to value and respect the women in their lives in ways beyond anything their fathers could have imagined. This definitely includes the young men whose jokes I have repeated in order to make a point.

But too many men still seem to equate the idea of equal rights with the idea that women are on their own all the time. Women are left alone with children it took two people to bring into the world, struggling with low-paid jobs and dead-end futures. They struggle with loads too heavy to carry, while men who could easily handle the weight simply look on.

Just because all of us have equal rights, regardless of gender, age, race, religion or culture, does not mean that all of us are exactly the same, or should be. Just because I have the right to pursue the career of my choice does not mean that I have to do it exactly in the same fashion as a man would. A society that grants equal rights is one that provides equal opportunities to realize our fullest potential, in whatever way is best of each of us.

And along with a just society that provides equal rights, it would be nice if we had a kind society in which we look out on an equal basis for each other. Those men and women who are blessed with health and strength can offer their seats to men and women who are in greater need. Those of us, men and women, who have light loads can share the burdens of men and women who are weighed down by books, bags and babies. And all of us, regardless of physical or mental capacity, can choose to pepper our language more with pleasantries than profanity. “Please” and “thank you” still hold more magic than coarse terms associated with bodily functions.

And to all of those men, women and children who have made my life so much more joyous and complete, please accept my sincerest gratitude. Each of you has equal rights to my heart.

posted by Lenore Wilson @ 10:01 PM