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.