Two Decades of Women
A couple of decades ago, I realized everything in my life up to that point had been determined by men. I can hear my friend Denise shouting, “It’s the patriarchy, stupid!” That’s not it -- at least not completely. The patriarchy is still with us. But inside my head, things have changed.
Let’s start with ancient history. I grew up when the movies were westerns with Roy Rogers or Gene Autry. Or they were war movies with Aldo Ray and Montgomery Clift. Stories were about men. Books were about men. In college, I majored in English and I read dozens of books by dead white men. Men were supposed to rule the world, and women were supposed to let them. I lived with a man who controlled and manipulated everything about my life. And I let him.
Then I stopped letting him.
After that, I wanted to think some new thoughts. I wanted to learn about feminism, which had passed me by. I wanted to read books by women, I wanted to see movies about women, hear songs sung by women, and see TV shows about women.
I’m not saying I started hating men. I like men. I have a son who is the finest man you could ever know. It wasn’t about men. It was about women, about finding the feminine, about understanding the female heart and mind, about finding the essence of what it is to be a woman.
The first thing I did was start reading books by women: Alice Walker, Toni Morrison, Edwidge Danicatt, Margaret Atwood, Sara Paretsky, Amy Tan, Mary McCarthy, Annie Proulx, Leslie Marmon Silko, Jeanette Winterson, Sandra Cisneros, Dana Stabenow, Rita Mae Brown, Zora Neale Hurston, Joan Didion, Gloria Steinem, Diana Galbaldon, Nora Roberts, Elizabeth Berg, Janet Evanovich, Sarah Waters, Rita Dove. I didn’t care if it was great literature or a speed-readable romance as long as it was by a woman.
No more war movies, no more westerns, no more guys coming of age (girls coming of age are acceptable), no more buddy films about guys. I became attached to films such as The Secret of Roan Inish and Practical Magic and Thelma and Louise and How to Make an American Quilt that told stories about women. I decided what to go see based on who the female star was -- the male star didn’t matter. Did it have Meryl Streep, Susan Sarandon, Queen Latifah, Sandra Bullock, Meg Ryan, Julie Christie, Angela Bassett, Shirley MacLaine, Holly Hunter, Halle Berry, Alfre Woodard, Julia Roberts? I was there.
I started to get a bit picky, a little more demanding. The woman had to really be there. Be a person who added to the film. If The Fugitive advertised Sela Ward, and she got offed in the beginning so all we could do was watch the hero run around, I was pissed.
Television had some women to offer. There was Mary Tyler Moore. Carol Burnett. There were shows with a lot of male characters and a few memorable female characters. China Beach had both Dana Delany and Marg Helgenberg. Northern Exposure had Janine Turner and several other interesting women. The Days and Nights of Molly Dodd was all Blair Brown. Cagney and Lacey -- woohaw! Any Day Now with Annie Potts and Lorraine Toussaint -- double woohaw! The four fabulous women on Sisters -- a quadruple woohaw.
In the last couple of years some really good female led TV has come along. Saving Grace, The Closer, In Plain Sight, Hawthorne, The Good Wife, and Weeds. I’m loving it.
And, there was The L Word. A show that was practically all women. I so, so loved it. I thought I loved it because I liked Jennifer Beals. I watched every old Jennifer Beals movie that I’d missed over the years. I found dancers, cops, crooks, a naive housewife, a madam, a psychic, a blind wise woman, singers, liars, the bride of Frankenstein and a whole lot of other people, but I didn’t find Jennifer Beals. I only found characters. That’s when I realized the thing that really attracted me was the character of Bette Porter on The L Word.
Bette Porter. A strong woman who stands up for herself. She’s not perfect, but she’s powerful and inspiring and a leader. She seems very real there inside the TV. She’s who I’ve been looking for in all the books, in all the movies, in all the TV shows. She’s in the courageous politicians I look up to. She’s in the tech savvy leaders I admire like the founders of BlogHer. She’s in the organizers for charity and the women who fight against injustice. She’s in the writers who tell stories that change the world. She’s in my daughter, who’s raising a kid with no help from the father. She’s in my granddaughters, who don’t take shit from anybody.
Real women I know have courage and strength and power. Maybe even I do. I’ve been trying to figure that one out for about 20 years. I could be close to an answer.