I grew up on The Jack Tales, Appalachian stories of the boy Jack who got into all kinds of scrapes but always landed on his feet. My favorite of the collection was the tale called “Old Fire Dragaman.” The illustration showed a fearsome giant striding across the mountains, his long beard flowing and his huge pipe belching smoke “like a steam engine,” according to Jack who was hiding in the shed he and his two brothers had built after they were sent by their father to clear new ground. Old Fire Dragaman came into the shed, ate their dinners and sopped their plates with a piece of bread, then marched out and over the mountains, relentless and satisfied. He got what he wanted.
I was fascinated by the giant’s wordless power. He seldom said anything, but the sight of him, enormous, striding across the mountains, oblivious of the puny mortals crouching at his feet, was for me a symbol of the power I craved.
In those days, any power I showed—throwing a tantrum, etc.—inevitably brought with it a searing sense of guilt and overflowing tears. I knew from the time I was small that any power was inevitably an exhibition of anger—even rage—and my guilt and my tears canceled any effect my exhibition might have had on the adults around me. The first time I remember being overwhelmed with jealous rage—I was perhaps four—left me deeply ashamed; I never forgot my mother’s horrified face after I’d kicked to pieces an adorable gypsy wagon, complete with horse, she wanted me to present as a birthday present to a cousin.
My fear of expressing anger, shared by so many women, is reinforced by some of the teachings of the Christian church; even today, the beautiful and entirely passive Virgin, seen here in procession surrounded by girls in white, is codified in expectations and reinforced by sometimes wordless commands to keep our knees closed, our skirts down, our voices soft, and our expressions pleasant. I saw this theme expressed, finally, on my parents’ shared tombstone in the family plot at Cave Hill Cemetery in Louisville, Ky: it bears a quotation for Samuel, “In life they were loved and admired, and in death they were not separated.” This sentiment blots out what I remember of my mother—God bless her—as a privileged woman sometimes dominated by frustration and rage.
We feminists since the early 1970’s—what is called the Second Wave, the first wave having come up the beach a hundred years earlier—have tried to provide a different model for the girls and women of today. And, as we encounter an array of difficulties in our professional lives—blocked advancement, unfair wages, unwanted attention and touch—we need to be able to use our rage, as well as feel it without bursting into tears. Tears never did women any good, making us appear weaker and more vulnerable than we have ever been. But as long as guilt and fear hamper us, what weapons do we have to combat cruel and unfair treatment?
I don’t know the answer. Perhaps someone reading this can offer a suggestion. I hope so. I’m not satisfied with “A soft answer turneth away wrath” because usually, it doesn’t.
As one of 9 children, I think that how we raise our male children has everything to do with the lives of our female children.
Your sentiments speak volumes to the “ veil” many women still hide behind even today, in Our so called” liberated” attributes positions, theories,and realities! I’ve found that once You accept, Your angers, fears, frustrations with Others misconceptions of You, And genuinely learn to love Yourself, even the things You can’t, or don’t want to change.. Your sense of self Regard allows You the recompense that you’re not likely to find anywhere else. After all, “Liberty”is far better , than “Freedom “❣️🎼We Some Times Fine Ourselves, in Another ‘s Truth, I did🌈💃🏿🎼🌹( lifeteacher1350@gmail.com)
In our Kentucky, West Virginia, Ohio region even local and state police are harming women by turning a blind eye to our civil rights and furthering the same from businesses, organizations, and social services organizations. It is eliminates freedom entirely in 2021…complaints are met with false claims on citations including framing women “incompetent” with the assistance of local attornies. We live in fear of barbarian tyrants that “fix women” with fraudulent tactics to “destroy” them on legal documents. A court Protection Order against a man triggers all tactics I mention. There is reason to cry being held prisoner to local and state government catering to men taking women hostage.
Barbarians with vendetta and zero apology: in our Kentucky, West Virginia, Ohio region even local and state police are harming women by turning a blind eye to our civil rights and furthering the same from businesses, organizations, and social services organizations. It eliminates freedom entirely in 2021…complaints are met with false claims on citations including deeming women “incompetent” with the assistance of local lawyers. We live in fear of barbarian tyrants that “fix women” with fraudulent tactics to “destroy” them on legal documents. A court Protection Order against a man triggers all tactics I mention. There is reason to cry being held prisoner to local and state government catering to men taking women hostage. There is no end in sight in a region that “good” men shed tears for women being treated like slaves. A Herald-Dispatch newspaper editorial written by David Peyton, a trusted male Huntington, WV writer wrote, “The Good ‘Ol Days” in September 2018 that equated racism to sexism in Huntington even in the present. State nor local leaders are helping to end this culture of torture against women.