Day 352- The next battle

I just want to take a moment, before I start praising the efforts of those who have been fighting for the civil rights of men and women in the armed forces, to call out those who voted against those rights today, or who decided not to vote at all.

The following Senators:

Alexander (R-TN), Nay
Barrasso (R-WY), Nay
Bennett (R-UT), Nay
Bond (R-MO), Nay
Brownback (R-KS), Nay
Bunning (R-KY), Not Voting
Burr (R-NC), Nay
Chambliss (R-GA), Nay
Coburn (R-OK), Nay
Cochran (R-MS), Nay
Corker (R-TN), Nay
Cornyn (R-TX), Nay
Crapo (R-ID), Nay
DeMint (R-SC), Nay
Ensign (R-NV), Nay
Enzi (R-WY), Nay
Graham (R-SC), Nay
Grassley (R-IA), Nay
Gregg (R-NH), Not Voting
Hatch (R-UT), Not Voting
Hutchison (R-TX), Nay
Inhofe (R-OK), Nay
Isakson (R-GA), Nay
Johanns (R-NE), Nay
Kyl (R-AZ), Nay
LeMieux (R-FL), Nay
Lugar (R-IN), Nay
Manchin (D-WV), Not Voting
McCain (R-AZ), Nay
McConnell (R-KY), Nay
Risch (R-ID), Nay
Roberts (R-KS), Nay
Sessions (R-AL), Nay
Shelby (R-AL), Nay
Thune (R-SD), Nay
Vitter (R-LA), Nay
Wicker (R-MS), Nay

are all cowards. The men and women on this list ought to be ashamed of themselves and their votes today. If any of my readers hail from the states represented by these Senators, I encourage you to e-mail them to express your displeasure at the way they have represented you and the other citizens of your state. It doesn't matter that the motion passed, that history has passed by these aging bigots and their old world views. These men and women, at least today, did not support American troops the way they deserve to be supported.

Dear Mr. President,

I was at work today when my phone alerted me to a new e-mail from you. It began:

Moments ago, the Senate voted to end "Don't Ask, Don't Tell."

When that bill reaches my desk, I will sign it, and this discriminatory law will be repealed.

Gay and lesbian service members -- brave Americans who enable our freedoms -- will no longer have to hide who they are.

The fight for civil rights, a struggle that continues, will no longer include this one.

I think this is my favorite way to receive such good news. Not to live up to your accusation of the left being totally impossible to please or anything, but I can't help fixating on the idea that troops who are risking their lives to serve our country can't marry the people they love. We'll let them serve- now even openly- but we won't let them marry their partners. I know, I know, you and congress need a minute to breathe, to recover from this long-overdue fight, but this is too important to rest. It is unfathomable to ask gay and lesbian Americans to serve a country that still legally treats them as second-class citizens.

So while you're celebrating this hard-fought victory, I hope that you are looking ahead to the next battle. I want to feel proud of my country today, hearing news like this, but I can't help lamenting the distance we have before us, the long way we have yet to go.

Anyway, thanks for the e-mail. Keep up the good work.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 325- Murder and Masculinity

So the question is this: when are we going to start awarding the Medal of Honor once again for soldiers who kill people and break things so our families can sleep safely at night?

Dear Mr. President,

I hope that you have not heard of Bryan Fischer, the moronic right-wing blogger for the American Family Association, but if you have, I'm sure you also heard about his recent lament about "the feminization of the Medal of Honor." Fischer, while acknowledging the heroism of Army Staff Sgt. Salvatore Giunta, cites Giunta's life-saving efforts as proof that we just don't reward killing the way we used to. While I, rather predictably, think this man is out of his mind, I was particularly surprised to see the comments on his original post. Without exception, the responses were negative, ranging from "I'll pray that you stop being such an ignorant person" to "You are actually evil and I hate you." A few even acknowledged the near-uniform blowback, pointing out that rage at Bryan Fischer is the most united the right and the left have been since 9/11. Fischer attempted to clarify his remarks (twice, actually) and seemed to genuinely believe that no one who actually understood what he was saying would be offended. But in all three posts, rewarding life-saving action (or not rewarding aggressive action,) was described as feminine.

The implication that killing is masculine and aversion to killing is feminine is really fine by me. As a woman, I have no problem with the heroic actions of (or the decision to honor) Staff Sgt. Giunta being described as feminine. However, it seems problematic to so closely link masculinity with the taking of life or the celebration of the taking of life. For one thing, most men in America would not qualify as "masculine" under this definition. Most men I know haven't killed any one and don't generally wish to see more of it. Perhaps I surround myself with especially effeminate men? I think some of my loss-prevention colleagues might object to this. I know a number of people (male and female) with really incredible numbers of killed aliens, zombies and other video-game creatures, but I don't know that most of them would meet Fischer's idea of traditional masculinity. Defining masculinity this way just makes it so much harder to feel manly in a world that increasingly frowns upon killing.

I'm not Christian, so when Fischer cites scripture as evidence that Jesus, even in crucifixion, was actually aggressively killing the forces of evil, I really don't have any basis to object. (Though I'm sure my Christian friends could probably find some problems with this argument.) My objection comes at the comparison of Christ vanquishing the forces of evil with US soldiers killing Afghan soldiers. Especially in light of a recent study demonstrating a vast majority of Afghans don't know about 9/11 or America's use of it as justification for war against the Taliban. We've been fighting for nine years against an enemy that has no idea why we invaded their country and killed so many innocent civilians. I just don't quite see the decision to take up arms against an invading army (especially when you have absolutely no idea why they are invading) as equal to the Dark Forces of Evil and Sin.

Which isn't to say I think we should do a better job of explaining to people why we're going to kill them before we kill them, but that maybe, just maybe, killing isn't the most effective way to keep ourselves safe. Maybe we're not only fighting the wrong enemy but fighting it the wrong way. I don't see there being all that much glory in the killing of some of the poorest and least-educated people on the planet by the most fearsome, best-quipped military on the planet. It certainly doesn't seem all that manly. And my family, for one, doesn't sleep any easier knowing it's being done. Would it be too feminine to suggest that maybe building schools and infrastructure and economic development might not have been a more effective way to make the world a little safer? I don't get to make these decisions, and neither do the men and women that you send to do all of the killing and dying that Fischer and his ilk see as so manly and Christlike. In that situation, doing your best to keep your fellow soldiers from getting killed certainly seems like an act of (completely gender-neutral) heroism. So I'll sleep tonight, grateful to Giunta and all of the other soldiers trying to protect their fellows in battle, because any one working for less death and destruction is pretty badass, in my humble opinion. I'll be content with the knowledge that most Christians (at least the ones commenting on the AFA website) think that Fischer is full of it. And I will wish for the promotion American concept masculinity based not on the destruction of life but the protection of it.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 308- Bitch

Dear Mr. President,

While I'm certainly not going to win any prizes for equanimity, I'm not particularly short tempered. Being called "bitch" by a man, however, is perhaps the quickest way to trigger a really irrational amount of anger. So tonight, when a man trying unsuccessfully to steal from my store called me "bitch" I just about lost control of my temper. I won't claim it is at all the same level of offense, but I think this is the closest emotional experience I, as a white, straight, woman, will ever have to being called a racial or homophobic slur. There might be worse things to call a woman, but I doubt there are many words that have so frequently accompanied by physical violence. And while my female roommates and I may toss it back and forth casually, the sound of it in a man's mouth makes my skin crawl. Perhaps it's irrational, perhaps it's an unfair double standard, but I think there are some emotional reactions that simply can't be entirely logical.

Once I calmed down and dispassionately contemplated the incident, it was clear that the man was just trying to intimidate me. I like to think that, regardless of how it made me feel, I managed not to exhibit the kind of weakness he was hoping to find. While discussing the encounter with a female coworker, she recalled a similar incident with a man on the bus with her. "It just makes me mad," she said, "because he never would have acted that way if I were a man. I hate being seen as an easier target just because I'm a woman." Maybe it's because I'm three books in to a series that describes an actual war between armies of men and armies of women, but I definitely have felt what she's talking about. I want to walk down my street at any time of night (and in any length of skirt) without getting shouted at. I want to live free from those who would assume that my abilities and vulnerabilities are defined by my sex. For a moment I was caught up in that simplistic us versus them mentality that I so often dismiss as intellectually lazy. Then I thought about Michele Bachmann. And Sarah Palin. I remembered that no classification as broad or as simple as gender (or, to be fair, political party) is an apt indicator of friend or foe.

While the narrative about the role of female candidates in the most recent election cycle was repeated often enough to seriously grow annoying, i do have to appreciate the effects. I think we've come a long way from McCain's "beat the bitch" rallying cry against Hillary Clinton. Carly Fiorina and Meg Whitman and Sharon Angle lost, not because they were too smart or too assertive, or not attractive enough, but because they were not effective or qualified candidates. Their opponents beat them on merit- not on sexist stereotypes. Patty Murray and the other women who won their races demonstrated that a smart, dedicated candidate with a persuasive enough message and the courage of her convictions can prevail, no matter what gender.

When I came home tonight I saw this story about a mother who had to defend her 5-year old son's decision to dress as a female character for halloween. While her impassioned defense of her son's choice and condemnation of the judgement he encountered from the mothers of the other students was inspiring, the sad reality of her contention, "If my daughter had dressed as Batman, no one would have thought twice about it. No one" reminded me that being a man isn't exactly easy, either. I'm glad that I'm able to calmly and reasonably analyze this tendency I have to view all men as opposition, and hopefully overcome that immature prejudice. I would imagine that this is far from the last time that a man is going to call me bitch and I will have to walk away let it go. It will probably always make me angry. Still, I suppose I can take comfort in the fact that, even if I am kind of a bitch, at least I'm not a scrawny skateboarding punk who tries to steal hats.

And that's enough, for now.


Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 287- Misogyny

Dear Mr. President,

In my many years at various bookstores in various cities, I've encountered more than a few authors and politicians I disliked. Dick Cheney shopped at one store I worked in, which also hosted signings by conservatives like James Baker and Ann Coulter. Some authors are just rude- a historian I previously had nothing against once turned me off of his World War Two books forever by yelling at me over his book's not-quite-prominent-enough location. Glenn Beck was scheduled to do an event at my Seattle Borders, but luckily re-routed his tour and was unable to make it. I'm usually pretty good at staying calm even when I don't like an author's politics, or when they turn out to be completely arrogant and self-absorbed. For every Philippa Gregory or Alex Kershaw there are the Margaret Atwoods, Laurie Notaros and Don Cheadles, who have enough grace and good humor to make up for it. Tonight, an author who seems to make his money demeaning women was in my store signing for a huge crowd of frat boys and, sadly, more than a few women. I dont understand what women possibly see in this man's humor that would make them want his autograph. (I wanted to punch him in the face just for looking at me, but, luckily for him, it's a recession and my job is worth slightly more than that.)

I watched the line twist down the staircase, and between the large groups of (largely white) gym-toned and fake-tanned frat boys, I'd catch glimpses of the girls. They all seemed to be a variation on the same theme of long hair, heavy make up, too-short shorts or too-tight dresses with designer bags and long artificial nails. With impossibly thin limbs and shimmering highlights, they wore expressions of affected disinterest as they texted on phones in one hand and clutched copies of his books in the other. On the paperback of his first memoir, the author stands pointing at a blonde under his arm, her features replaced with the words "your face here". I've often longed to be more beautiful, but tonight, watching these lovely, sad creatures in all of their splendor, I have never been so happy to be homely.

While considering the mystery of this man's appeal, I came across this article on political misogyny. The recent popularity of anti-choice female candidates like Sarah Palin, Michele Bachmann, and Christine O'Donnell has given me serious pause about my desire to see more women in high office. I would like my gender to have more representation in government- but not by the political equivalent of those tanned, bleached and very thin girls standing in line to meet Tucker Max. I'll fully own my nerdy plain girl's mistrust of those who make being pretty their full-time jobs, but I think that there is a significant difference, for example, in the politics of Senator Snowe and those of the Palin/O'Donnell crowd. American women are far too diverse to ever be expected to vote for the same party, but it is so difficult to understand women who don't stand up against the subjugation of other women. Women who don't even take themselves seriously, let alone offer voters reason enough to. I want to feel the bonds of sisterhood, some common struggle that connects me with women like this, but I just don't. Does that make me just as bad as Tucker Max? I think in some ways it must. I don't know what kind of feminism there might be that could possibly include all of us, but I know for sure we're never going to find it worshipping men like him.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 203- When "yes" means "assuming you're not Arab, of course"

If any one out there reading this is wondering why I am not commenting on the Shirley Sherrod story, it isn't because I'm such a loyal Hope Koolaid drinker. I have three reasons:

1. I have nothing to add that every other blogger and their mother haven't already said
2. I do think the administration screwed up, I don't think there's anything they can do but apologize and try to reinstate her, and they have done that already.
3. I'm so sick of reading transcripts of press conferences full of Sherrod questions and NOTHING else. I'm sorry she was unfairly fired, but SERIOUSLY guys, people go through a lot worse without getting a single member of the press corps to ask Robert Gibbs about it.

Dear Mr. President,

One in six American women will be the victim of rape in her lifetime. With that kind of statistical frequency, it is a safe bet that we all have women in our lives affected by this. I certainly do, and I say this only to emphasize that I do not take the issue lightly, nor to I mean to belittle or minimize the damaging affects of this crime. I don't know that there are statistics available for the number of people, male or female, who are lied to for sex, but I'm guessing, based on personal experience, that it's much, much higher. People lie. People lie all the time, about important things and stupid things, and people lie even more when they think they can get what they want. I don't think that lying to some one in order to have sex with them, in general, is a criminal act. Israeli courts, who have convicted an Arab man of rape for allegedly claiming to be Jewish, disagree.

The idea that consent can be contingent on a partner's racial identity or religion is absurd. While withholding or misleading a partner about some information, such as knowledge of HIV or other infection, can and should be grounds for criminal complaint, there are obvious differences between the harm done by a person's religion and their HIV status. This verdict is based primarily upon an accepted racism, an antipathy that is now given the force of legal precedent. Absent any hard evidence to substantiate the woman's claim that he lied about his identity, the most damning evidence this man could have faced is the inescapable reality of his own race and the judge's belief that a jewish woman would need to be deceived in order to consent. This kind of institutionalized racism ought to be condemned by Israel's allies.

Beyond the racist implications of this decision, the language of the decision declares the court responsible for the protection of women from "smooth-tongued criminals," surprisingly paternalistic language from a female judge. I wonder, had this been the case of a Jewish man being deceived by an Arab woman, would she have been charged with rape, as well? As a woman, I find this idea that women lack the judgement to protect themselves from men who lie insulting.

We all have to take responsibility for the way we treat one another and for the decisions we make. Deception in pursuit of casual sex, while morally questionable, is hardly on par with the trauma of actual rape, and this disturbing decision should not pass without the strong condemnation of all who would see racism and sexism divided from the laws of any nation.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 187- Man hands

Dear Mr. President,

In high school, they called me man hands. It sounds cruel, but it was sort of an endearment. I do have big hands. The people who love me best still call me this, occasionally, and I love them for it. But it started earlier than that. It started when I was 4 years old and saw The Neverending Story. I promptly convinced my mother to cut off my long golden curls so that I could look like Atreyu. When my older sister told me Atreyu was a boy, I was pretty skeptical; I identified with the character enough to believe that he must be female, like me. After that, it was being the only girl on the soccer field at recess, or picked first for kickball because, as a 5th grader, my 5'+ frame and size 9 shoes made me awkward and strange, but damn good at kicking a ball. These days, I work in a physical, occasionally dangerous and adrenaline-filled job. While my supervisor is female, she acknowledged to me that I'm the first woman to apply in a long time. So, I suppose, she and I work what some would call a man's job. I don't want to be a mother and I don't want to be some one's wife, but I like romantic movies and make-up and Jane Austen novels as much as the next girl. What does this make me?

Abnormally masculine, according to Pediatric endocrinologist Maria New, of Mount Sinai School of Medicine and Florida International University. That my aspirations for a life outside of motherhood, marriage and so-called feminine traditions are traits some (ironically, female) doctors would attempt to prevent in utero is kind of horrifying. Considering my upbringing, watching my parents come home from the same work, with the same weapons and tools, knowing that my mother worked just as hard as my father, had more education, made more money than him, outranked him and still had to come home and be responsible for the domestic chores while he relaxed in front of the TV, maybe my abnormality isn't genetic so much as experience? Of course, my father and stepmother tried hard to break me out of my tomboyish tendencies, forbidding certain masculine clothing, encouraging and even emphasizing the importance of cosmetic beauty. But I never outgrew it. I'm not dainty or delicate. I don't aspire to be. I can't change this, any more than I could change the size of my hands. Even my handwriting (as the unfortunate readers of your mail must surely be aware) is undeniably masculine.

If my parents had been given the choice, if they had been offered a pill to take with prenatal vitamins that ensured them a "normal" daughter, would they have taken it? How does a parent justify making decisions about a person's disposition, their preferences and temperament, the things that make up their personality, all without their consent? I think that science is pretty awesome, that genetics and the prenatal prevention of disease are important and fascinating fields. But reading about this research and the reasoning used to justify it, I can't help but wonder who gets to decide what is a problem, an abnormality that needs correction or prevention, and where the checks on that kind of power could possibly come from. What's feminine today is different than 24 years ago, and by the time children receiving this treatment reach their own adulthood, I'm sure it will be even more so. That 4 year old girl who looked back at me from the mirror as our mother cut our hair and turned us into a warrior, she could have grown up to be anything, a mother, a Supreme Court nominee, even a pediatric endocrinologist. So far, all she's become is a loss prevent agent and blogger, a chronically opinionated and ambitious young adult with giant hands. But I'd hate to think that, even before she was born, there could have been a medically sanctioned definition of what the correct choice would be.

Girls of all ages have a role model in Elena Kagan, so thank you for nominating her to the bench. I believe that her life's work is no less valuable than any children she might have born, instead. I am grateful for her and for all of the other abnormal women who have come before me. They have made the world safer for women like me, and improved it for all of us- even Dr. New. I'm not promising that I'll cut my hair to look more like her, but, if she gets a luckdragon name Falkor, it may be cause to reconsider.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 176-Choice as a human right

Dear Mr. President,

Today I read about the impending G8 discussion of global access to abortion services. While the Canadian PM has tacitly made his opposition to this clear, there is hope that the US will come out forcefully in support of safe and legal access to contraception and abortion as a global woman's right. I'm not so hopeful; I think that, for all of your administration's talk about the importance of education and equal rights for women and girls, the health care debate clearly demonstrated that reproductive rights are not enough of a priority to warrant any real political risks. This depressing thought reminded me of a news story I'd read several months back, about a nun in Arizona. Sister Margaret McBride, the administrator of St. Joseph's hospital in Phoenix, approved an abortion for a patient who would have died without terminating her pregnancy. Sister McBride was excommunicated for this, and condemned by many anti-choice organizations.

What struck me about this story is the obvious disdain the church has for the woman's life, and also the contrast in their reaction to this Nun's actions and those of the countless Priests accused of child molestation. This same hypocrisy is apparent in the Helms amendment, and, domestically, the demands that insurance plans covering abortion use no federal funds. Taxpayers fund death and torture and extrajudicial incarceration in Afghanistan every day, but the idea that an organization allowing Afghan women to make their own reproductive decisions would get a dime of American money is too controversial? Surely, if we can declare access to education essential, we can also fight for every woman's right to control her own body, as a woman's health is essential to her participation in society. The US should lead by example, repeal the Helms amendement and campaign strongly for the right to choose for every woman, no matter where she lives. I hope that the G8 will provide an opportunity to demonstrate courageous leadership on this issue, even in the face of controversy.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 130- Out in public

Tonight's letter is in reference to a post on a former coworker's excellent blog Cultural Minefield. While he and I agree on very little, politically, he is the kind of intellectual I can't help but love to disagree with, especially when I know he can out-argue me on just about anything. He is a brilliant and reasonable individual and I miss him dearly. His post was a comment on Elena Kagan's rumored sexual orientation, and cites this article, for those looking to read more.

Dear Mr. President,

Today you announced Elena Kagan as your nominee for the Supreme Court. I am hardly qualified to comment on the virtues of this; while I relish the idea of the gender balance of the court tipping ever so slightly toward a more realistic reflection of the country, I don't value the symbolism of a female justice above the practical questions about her legal philosophies. I think that your familiarity with her and her views are enough for me, for now, to hope for the best. I've heard murmurs in the media, especially on blogs, about Kagan's sexual orientation. That your administration has refused to comment on this is expected and correct; it is certainly Kagan's prerogative to out herself if she chooses. I cannot imagine accepting a position that would require such scrutiny while simultaneously attempting to keep hidden something like sexual orientation, which the press will pursue perhaps even more doggedly than an affair scandal.

One commentator compared her sexual orientation to her religion, saying that while neither were should exclude her from nomination, it was significant that her religion could be openly discussed while her sexuality could not. I don't agree. For one thing, a person's political, moral and social views are influenced by religion, and religious persecution in this country is far less socially acceptable than the homophobia that is law in many states. There is no amendment to any state's constitution banning Jewish marriage. Some questioned the existence of a "secret" spouse who would be, hypothetically, hidden from the public. I find this highly amusing, given that those conservatives speculating about her secret marriage would have public records to confirm their suspicions, were they less successful at preventing lesbians in this country from openly marrying.

I understand why Kagan would want to hide her hypothetical homosexuality; it is perfectly reasonable to fear the reaction of our country's bigoted populace, not to mention the insulting questions and doubt cast on her objectivity sure to arise during her confirmation hearings in the Senate. I don't know that I could endure it, myself. However, if she is a lesbian, I hope she does speak openly about it, and that the White House does not discourage her from doing so. It is long past time that gay and lesbian Americans enjoyed the same rights of any of us, and, while appointing an openly gay Supreme Court Justice might be more symbolic than tangibly beneficial to the gay community, the most valuable consequence might be for the American government to demonstrate it isn't completely out of touch with American values. That, whatever small-minded individuals who might see it as disqualifying may say, the White House and the Senate are determined to confirm the most qualified individual, and believe, as do much of the American public, that a person's sexual orientation is neither a source of shame or basis for criticism. An expression of hope for a day when such facts about a person will actually arose no more interest or controversy from the media than their religion.

I look forward to the confirmation hearing, in the, (dim, I admit) hope that this one will focus more on the nominee's qualifications and legal philosophy than on any absurd "wise Latina" minutiae; should this fantasy not come to pass, I hope that Kagan is prepared for the difficult and undignified road ahead. I wish her luck.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 128- Mom (part 1)

Today and tomorrow's letters are going to be connected, both because I think my mom is so awesome that I want to write two letters about her, and I'd like to spend tomorrow with her, not working. Today's letter will be completed before midnight and tomorrow's will be written just after, so I apologize for the short space between posts, and the relatively "fluffy" letters. I'll be back to real politics on Monday.

Also, check out the Mother's day event Michelle Obama hosted this week at the White House, if you're interested.

Dear Mr. President,

My mother is an amazing woman. She's raised three girls, worked her whole life to help others, for years serving our community as a police officer, specializing in helping children and victims of sexual assault. She certainly deserves more than just a day of celebration. I know you understand the important role that mothers play; I enjoyed your writing about your own mother in Dreams from my father, and your obvious respect for the First Lady shows how much you continue to appreciate the difficult job of raising children. My own mother has taught me countless things; she's prepared me for life as an adult by emphasizing self-sufficiency, education, and accountability. I think she would have liked to pass on more of her predilection for cleanliness and organization, but at least I got her eyes, her political leanings, and her sense of humor.

Tomorrow my sisters, brothers-in-law, and I are taking our mother to a baseball game. We don't get together as often as we should, even though we live relatively near one another. We all work, different hours and different days, we all commute, and my youngest sister has a young son to take care of as well. These excuses make it easy for us to go weeks, even months, without getting together. When I lived in DC, my mother would send me little cards every month or so; some had newspaper articles she thought I'd like to read, others were signed from all of the family cats. It made me feel close to her, despite the times zones that separated us. Now that we work in the same city, it's sad how little time we actually spend together.

My mother reads everything she can about you and your family, and especially admires your wife a great deal. I think she'd like it if I told you a bit about her. She's as remarkable as any woman; her story is unique and incredibly commonplace. She grew up in Michigan, the middle of 5 children, and wanted to become a teacher. She's great with children and animals, she's compassionate, brave, and sarcastic. Also, she can't watch the news without arguing with or yelling at the TV. I don't know her nearly as well as I'd like. She's made me the person I am today; I'm grateful to her for all of the wisdom and courage she's instilled in her children.

Mr. President, you've often spoken out for the importance of equal pay for women; you've worked to improve our education, health care and other social services, and you've appointed female role models like Hillary Clinton and Sonya Sotomayor. Thank you, for your commitment to our mothers, and the mothers of generations to come.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 117- Back in the kitchen

We have trailblazers like Sheikha Hanadi of Qatar, along with Waed al Taweel, who I met earlier -- a 20-year-old student from the West Bank who wants to build recreation centers for Palestinian youth. So together, they represent the incredible talents of women entrepreneurs and remind us that countries that educate and empower women are countries that are far more likely to prosper. I believe that.

-President Barack Obama, Presidential Summit on Entrepreneurship 4/26/2010

Dear Mr. President,

In your remarks on Entrepreneurship, you said "countries that educate and empower women are countries that are far more likely to prosper." I appreciate these sentiments, sir. It brought to mind the women I met in Palestine, from the Women in Hebron co-operative, who sold crafts and embroidery and invested in their community, or from the Women in Culture co-operative in Jenin, or even the bright students in our group, who studied science or medicine or business at schools in Bethlehem and Jerusalem. These women were inspiring, many of them pulling themselves out of tragedy, the loss of sons or husbands, to earn their own way in the world. Their society values and respects women, and they are living testaments to this. We met with young women in Bir Zeit, student organizers and community leaders. It seemed hopeful, in a society whose young men are often targeted and imprisoned by the occupation forces, that women were taking on roles as leaders in their community. Unfortunately, politically active young women are, increasingly, becoming targets themselves.

One of the things I am asked, most often, is how I was able to travel alone in the Middle East as a woman. I often try to correct the misconceptions about the role of women in Palestinian society, but it is difficult to combat cultural stereotypes. Even the Israeli soldiers who detained our group were asking the American women in our group why we were there, if we knew "what Arabs do to women", and if we were afraid, even as we traveled in a group that was largely composed of young women from a number of countries and religious backgrounds.

I think America often overestimates the progress we've made in the way women are treated in our society. Congresswoman Betty Sutton's republican opponent suggested that she get "out of the House and back in the kitchen," demonstrating that sexism is alive and well in America in 2010. Utah passed legislation this year that makes me think women in that state are valued for little more than their reproductive abilities. I'm glad that your administration has demonstrated through actions, and not just words, your commitment to advancement for women, but, as a nation, we still have a long way to go.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 95- Prom

Sometimes our President is a total baller. Sometimes he's even cooler.

Dear Mr. President,

High school proms are an absurd cliche, but, so help me, I loved mine. My best friends and I got dressed up, had a fancy dinner, played like we were really grown-up while we posed for photos with dates who'd be distant memories in a few years, but who were The Loves Of Our Lives at the time. Prom was not without its political drama, either. One of my friends was dating a student from another school, a transgendered boy who caused quite a stir by being the first female elected Prom King at his own school. I remember, at the time, thinking that this would seem so bigoted and backwards by the time we grew up and told our own kids; like the stories of segregation our own parents had from their time in school.

Apparently, our nation isn't quite there yet. Constance McMillen, a Mississippi high school student, was told by her school that she could not bring her girlfriend to prom. The resulting uproar, which included a legal battle and a (social and mainstream) media frenzy, ended with two proms; one for Constance and a dozen other students; one privately organized and funded by the parents of the rest of the school. In this case, while the courts acted as I feel they should have, the legal decision was not what ultimately mattered. The damage to Constance's high school experience was already done. Her school's administration had labeled her an outsider, demonstrating clearly to her peers that she has no place among them.

Plenty of people have a difficult time fitting in. High school is often unpleasant, and high school students are often unkind. The system should not actively work to make it harder to be different. This kind of bigotry has no place in our society, and certainly not in our public schools. There is no saving Constance the humiliation and alienation that will result from the small-mindedness of the adults granted responsibility over her education. Her prom has become a rite of passage that no high school student should ever have to endure. Maybe, years from now, she'll look back on it with a grim satisfaction, appreciating that, in the face of it all, she at least kept her integrity. Even if it will serve her, long term, to have discovered so early in life all the obstacles she will have to overcome and the strength required to do so, I will wish that she might have avoided such character-building. I may not be a parent, or, for that matter, much older than Constance, but I still wish that American children were shielded, a little longer, from suffering the consequences of the appalling ignorance that still exists in this country.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 91- Census Day

Hey all, it's Census Day! If you haven't filled out your 2010 census form, do so! It's fun, painless, and important!

Dear Mr. President,

My roommates and I have already filled out our census form, it providing us with one evening of jokes and giggles about which traditional family role each of the four of us represented. We're an odd sort of household, four unrelated early-20-something females; one white, one Guatemalan, one Puerto Rican-Irish, and one Hidatsa-Mandan, all in a two-bedroom fifth-floor apartment. We hail, respectively, from a small town, an island state, a big city, and a foreign military base. We attend Art school, Massage school, and State University. We're respectively Catholic, Wicca, Atheist, and, well, whatever I am. We all have very different dreams.

One of the surprising things that unites us is the role our grandparents played in our upbringing. Each of us was brought up by our grandmothers, either because our parents had to work or were unable to provide stable homes. My own grandmother watched my sister and I after school while our parents were at work. She cooked us dinner, helped us with homework, and entertained us with stories from her childhood adventures living on a ranch in Wyoming. We loved her and feared her and often suspected she might be a little bit crazy. I think of her now, not as she is, slowly losing her grasp on the present in an assisted living facility in Nebraska, but as she must have been before I knew her; young and feisty and terribly brave. She never went back to school after the 8th grade, because the United States entered WWII and she had to stay home to help out. She adopted two sons and lost her husband to a car accident, surviving the kind of poverty that widows in every society through history have known.

My roommates' grandmothers are the stuff of myth; one is still working full-time yet still seems to know whenever her grandkids need her for groceries, new shoes, advice or a good scolding. One has adopted her grandchildren as her own, facing the difficulties of being a parent all over again, passing her strength and her compassion on to the next generation. These women helped shape us into the women we have become. Our upbringing, much like our current family of four, was never traditional or reflected in what popular culture taught us normal looked like. We learned early, as your own unique upbringing must have taught you, as well; there is no such thing as a 'normal' family.

This is why I am glad that the White House, in observance of Census Day, made sure to point out the unusual makeup of the first family, noting that Sasha and Malia's grandmother lives with you in the White House, complicating your own census form. I'm sure that, for all of the uniqueness and opportunity of being First Daughters, the girls are glad (and lucky) to have the constancy and guidance of their Grandmother at home.

Thank you, Mr. President, for reminding us that all American families need to be counted today, regardless of their eccentricities.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 65- AWMS awareness month

Dear Mr. President,

I'm not a big fan of "history months." For one thing, I've never met any member of a group whose history is celebrated for a dedicated month who appreciates it. March is "Women's history month" which should incline me, as a woman, to make an effort to remember those who came before me, those women whose legacies are the rights and opportunities I'm lucky enough to possess. And they're pretty great. Today, however, I'd rather write about a woman who I feel embodies the complexity and contradiction of modern feminism, and who does so while daily under direct personal attack. She is a hero of my own, the First Lady Michelle Obama.

Mr. President, clearly I'm a supporter of yours. I worked to see you elected in 2008, and I intend to do so again in 2012. But, let's be honest, you wouldn't be President without Michelle. She's an amazing woman who is widely admired for her abilities as a wife and mother, but she's clearly brilliant and politically savvy, as well. She's remarkably able to balance the satisfaction and importance of being a devoted and talented mother with the demands of her intellect and professional pride. My own mother reads pretty much any article she can find about the First Lady, and often calls me up afterward just to tell me, again, how much she admires her and, by extension, you. Every time some moron in the media tries to paint your wife as a terrorist-fist-bumping-black-nationalist-radical-feminist-America-hater, I'm sure that my mother's TV gets worried about being struck by flying projectiles, and the Democratic party gets another flood of donations from her and similarly-minded individuals.

I'm not just writing this to be a gushing fan. While it is an unfortunate reality that the First Lady's accomplishments make her a target for attack from the disgruntled old world order of men and even women who don't see her role in our society as appropriate, I was particularly upset by an e-mail that was recently forwarded by a CEO from Tennessee. This man may have apologized, insisting it was "political humor," but I, personally, hopes that he continues to suffer the loss of friends and clients as a result. There is nothing political about his attack. It is, among other things, blatant sexism. Secretary Clinton can probably recall equally offensive attacks during her own time as First Lady. (I don't know of similar examples for Laura or Barbara Bush, but then, I feel as though the right has often been more swiftly critical of a First Lady.) Why are men like this CEO so threatened by women like the First Lady? My roommate and I have attributed this partially to "angry white man syndrome", a condition we see often, which manifests as chronic complaints about the difficulties of being white and male and unable to qualify for the perceived "special treatment" that women and minorities receive. This fear is certainly not something that a national history month will undo. I think that women would gladly rename March "Men's history month", if it gave us half of the seats in congress and equal pay in the professional world, or raised realistic expectations for a man's participation in domestic life. I'd sacrifice having doors opened or getting drinks paid for on my behalf, if it meant that I didn't have to worry about seeming too smart or too strong.

I appreciate the steps you've taken, Mr. President, to promote education, equality and recognition for the girls and women in our country and across the globe. A man benefiting from the love and support of a woman like Michelle must clearly have an appreciation for all of the roles a modern woman is expected to take on, and the importance, to society as a whole, of equal opportunity for women. Our nation is lucky to benefit from her wisdom as well as your own, and our country is stronger, your presidency improved, by her contributions. She is certainly not the only First Lady to have served her nation as well as her husband, and our country is in debt to many remarkable women who deserve so much more than a month on the calendar.

I hope that the First Lady continues to be an example for all of us to strive toward, even as her accomplishments make her a bigger target for those who fear her. Happy Women's History Month. May the sentiments that made such a month necessary be quickly outgrown.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 48- Regrets

Dear Mr. President,

Tonight I was in a relatively empty bar in downtown with five of my female friends. An older gentleman came over to our table and offered to buy us a round of drinks. He said this was because he'd been listening to a speech earlier that declared women, especially young women, to be responsible for the coming ascendancy of American global influence. This man, who identified himself as the former Mayor of Burbank, California, began telling us about his life; growing up in California, going to Vietnam in the 60's, meeting President Reagan, even a little about his college-age children. He said that he can't stand talking to white men, anymore, because minorities and women are the future.

A google search confirmed his identity, but what struck me most about this man was not his former job, but the sound of relief in his voice. He, at several points during his story, apologized for the baby boomers "messing everything up." He seemed eager to pass the baton of responsibility for society to women, as though the millennium of male dominance was a burden he had been carrying his whole life. At several points, I actually felt pity for this man. It is one thing to be disenfranchised, to feel powerless and unrepresented and unable to change the world when you feel it's going the wrong way. But to have power; to be a rich, white, politically active man with education and connections; to have all of this and wake up one morning 68 and appalled at the state of the world must be an entirely different form of frustration. Who can this man blame, if not himself? He has had his time, his chance at creating the world he'd want his children to inherit, and he feels he has failed. It's a new generation's turn, and all he can do is sit back and buy us drinks, hope that we can listen past his slurred references to Casablanca and take to heart what he is saying.

I don't know. Maybe he's just a creepy old man who saw six women his daughter's age and thought he'd impress us with stories of movie stars and his encounters with the Joint Chiefs. But I think that, in his own clumsy way, he was asking for something more than just our attention. He wanted to explain himself, to justify a life even he wasn't sure had been lived as well as it could have been; to ask that we, and those with whom we would inherit the future, not judge him too harshly. I couldn't help, as I was listening to this man, to think of my own father, or even President Bush. Men who could not hide behind the excuse of powerlessness, but who lacked the courage to use their power to the right ends. Do they, too, feel guilty about their legacies? Do they look ahead, hoping that redemption will somehow be found in the lives of their children?

As we left the bar, wise enough to know that nothing is given freely, we each wondered what those drinks had really cost, and what, exactly, he thought he was buying. What will we be like, at 68? How many disappointed hopes will we try to explain away to strangers? While I still believe that I'd rather govern myself than be governed by some one like this man, listening to him made me hesitate, for a moment, and wonder if I'm ready for the responsibility of that kind of burden.

I suppose I don't ask many direct questions in these letters, Mr. President, which is in part due to the plethora of information about you readily available, but mostly because I know I have little right to expect a response. So forgive the personal nature of this inquiry, but the events of tonight make me wonder, what are the things you regret, Mr. President? Perhaps more importantly, what are the things you fear you'll regret at the end of your Presidency?

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 45

Dear Mr. President,

When I was a senior in high school, my AP English teacher assigned an essay on the nature of marriage. It was a challenging assignment for many of us with divorced families. Growing up, it often seemed that marriages would either end up bitterly broken, as my parents' had, or long slow, decays into mutual unhappiness or secret infidelity, as with most of the married couples I'd encountered. Marriage seemed like a prescription for disappointed hopes and heartbreak. As I've matured, I've witnessed maybe three truly happy marriages, and each one makes me hold my breath, terrified of the crash and burn I see as inevitable.

Back in high school I knew that looking for evidence that I was wrong about love would consume me in a way I'd never be comfortable with. It feels almost shameful, devoting so much of my energy to seeking out the validation from another person. I should be more self-reliant. I should have greater, grander plans. But I had to know, if only by constant trial, if it were possible that I was wrong. I've had my share of heartache in the process. I've seen my friends and family, men and women who I admire, brought down, broken by this feeling. We always bounce back. We always move on. People are practical, if not particularly romantic.

When I lived in DC I worked with a man who became my mentor, and his devotion to his wife, their loving union that seemed so natural and easy, challenged my preconceptions about marriage. What was most amazing to me was the nonchalance with which they viewed their happiness, as though married people who like each other were the most normal things in the world. Since then, I've seen a few more stereotype-defying couples. A monk in Jerusalem who left his whole life behind for the woman he loved. Childhood sweethearts who still glow at the sight of one another after 50 years. Even, or maybe, in light of your career, I should say especially, you and the First Lady. You two seem to be genuinely happy and in love, in a way that seems too real to conceivably be for the public's benefit. None of this, of course, is as simple and perfect as fictional romantic love, but still, it gives me hope. In a simple, silly way, I think I just need to be shown that love does last for those willing to work for it. I might never believe it, all the way. I might never feel secure in love. But I like the anomalies that keep the certainty of absolute cynicism at bay.

It's Valentine's Day, and I suppose I don't have anything better to say than thank you for being a role model in more ways than just your professional success. It means a lot, even to those of us who should be old enough, and experienced enough, to know better.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 34

Dear Mr. President,

Repealing 'Don't Ask Don't Tell' is the right thing to do, and I'm glad you've made it a clear priority. Legalizing gay marriage is also the right thing to do; I hope in the coming months we hear more about it from your administration. I don't think marriage is an institution that exists between more than two people. That is to say, I don't think including other types of partnerships in the definition of marriage affects me & my hypothetical marriage. Otherwise, I'd argue that arranged marriages, or marriages that take place on reality shows, or pretty much anything that happens in Las Vegas, are all threats to the Institution itself.

Any one citing their religious traditions as the basis for their opposition to same-sex marriage, (and I am sorry to have to include you in this, Mr. President,) should, by their own logic, be equally opposed to any marriages outside of their religious tradition, which would seem to include, in your case, marriages between non-Christians. Since you don't seem to be calling for a ban on non-Christian marriages, I can only assume that your real reasons for your opposition to same-sex marriage are more complicated than you claim. I have a difficult time understanding this position on the issue, but I do appreciate that you, at least, don't seek to impose your religious views on the entire country. I still think you've got it wrong. I'm sorry, Mr. President, but I just don't see the same god that values love, and kindness, and consideration for others supporting the oppression of people because of who they love.

I hope that your administration continues to seek justice and equal rights for the gay community. I applaud your aggressive approach to repealing 'Don't Ask, Don't Tell, and I'm gratified to see it sparking a national discussion on the issue. I know many of my letters so far have been complaints about what you're doing wrong or not doing enough of, and I'm sure many of the letters to follow will be the same, but, for today, I just want you to know I think you're doing a good job.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 26

Dear Mr. President,

Today a French commission offered its report on the full-face veil worn by some Muslim women. This report is an appalling demonstration of the ignorant, islamophobic hate-mongering that passes as political discourse in much of Europe these days. I hope that your administration strongly denounces the report, and any move to ban the wearing of the veil. How does a ban on the veil in public places liberate women who wear it? Doesn't this just prevent them from equal access to education, government services, medical care and transportation- necessary aspects of living independent lives as full citizens?

I feel this is particularly heinous because it discriminates against women, while claiming to be for their own good. This is the kind of paternalistic legislative overreach that begs a comparison to the regimes like Iran and Afghanistan under the Taliban, which require the veil for almost exactly the same reason, to "protect" women. I once read that high-heels are damaging to a woman's leg muscles. One could argue that they also impede a woman's ability to move quickly, and can be hazardous during emergency evacuations. Where's the French commission recommending a ban on stilettos?

Behind all the posturing, the legislative language and the outright lies from the French government, the simple truth is that this is nothing more than a manifestation of anti-Islamic feelings, of blatant racism. Muslims, be they immigrants or converts, make the French government nervous. The same way Jews made the German government nervous. Are yellow crescents next? Jim Crow-style legislation to segregate Muslims from public life? Where is the line drawn? How much of a woman's face needs to be visible before she can qualify for an education or medical care? Before she can take a bus to work, or shop, or visit family? How much of herself must she cede to the government's idea of what a liberated woman looks or dresses like?

The report says that all of France says "no" to the veil. What does that say to the women who wear it? You are not French. France says "no", to you. What a progressive, egalitarian thing to say. Mr. President, I beg you, do not ignore or condone this offensive behavior.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 23- 37 years

Today we recognize the 37th anniversary of the Supreme Court decision in Roe v. Wade, which affirms every woman’s fundamental constitutional right to choose whether to have an abortion, as well as each American’s right to privacy from government intrusion. I have, and continue to, support these constitutional rights.

I also remain committed to working with people of good will to prevent unintended pregnancies, support pregnant women and families, and strengthen the adoption system.

Today and every day, we must strive to ensure that all women have limitless opportunities to fulfill their dreams.

Dear Mr. President,

The night of the final debate between you and Senator McCain was the night I knew you were a different kind of politician. What struck me was the way you reminded every one, very calmly, that no matter how unapologetic you or any one might be in their support for Roe V. Wade, "no one is pro-abortion." The power of this moment was lost, of course, in Senator McCain's response, which involved air-quotes around "women's health" as though women across the nation were inventing life-threatening prenatal complications in order to score late-term abortions. My appreciation for your words was lost in my disgust at Senator McCain, but your words kept coming back to me, in the days following.

5 years ago, I made a choice. Knowing what I know now, knowing how that choice has haunted me, redefined me, in many ways, broken me, I don't think I would make the same choice, again. I was 18, and I was scared, and I was desperate. I know, for sure, that the law would not have stopped me. I could have gone to a safe, sterile clinic, or I could have gone somewhere else. I wasn't making this choice because I thought it was the right one, I wasn't making it because I thought, at all. I was making it because a person I thought mattered more than all else, told me it was the only way. I'm not blaming him, I'm blaming myself for valuing this man above my own health and safety and survival. For valuing him above all reason or logic.

In the end, of course, he left me. In the end I was alone, as I had always been. And while this decision may haunt me, the question of its morality settled so decidedly in my mind, its legality protected me from truly terrible consequences. The law cannot protect me from regret and self-reproach, but it can, and did, protect my health and safety. It is, once again, about Elizabeth Cady Stanton's solitude of self. The law that protects this decision protects a woman when she is the most alone. When she cannot count on any one, not her family, not her lover, and certainly not the men who govern her, to help.

I know both the desperation of being so young and so scared, and the ache of having surrendered your better judgment to another. So no matter what choice I would make now, I feel physically ill to think of that choice ever again being made for me or for any woman, by men like Senator McCain. This is why your manner in the debate was so inspiring. Not because you agree with me, but because you did not allow the debate to be taken from you and redefined. You did not allow Senator McCain to paint your beliefs as shameful or craven. You did not surrender the dignity of your position and of those that share it. So thank you for that.

37 years ago the courts defined the limits of their jurisdiction to be the boundaries of a person's body. It comforts me to know that you agree.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey

Day 7

Dear Mr. President,

Reading about you and your father is difficult for me, as it reminds me of my relationship with my own father, which I have conducted without your grace or self-awareness. I was raised by women, scolded and shaped as a person by my mother, my grandmother, my sisters and by the wisdom of so many teachers. My father lingers as a specter in my memory, not absent, at first, but certainly not present. Men in my early life were large and loud, they lived in comfortable chairs in front of the TV; set dressing for the defined, complex female characters to interact with. Men were manifestations of will, their anger hung in the room like a cloud, their favor elated me, their participation in activities or conversation lent importance and gravity. I grew up never resenting this, playing with the boys at recess and having slumber parties with the girls, never concerning myself with the differences in roles that were so obvious in adults.

You arrived in New York with your father's letter, full of the instructions to find your place that you, at the time, found inadequate. I read this and cast about in my memory for what "dime store advice" my father had sent me into the world with, and I can recall none. Instead, I enter the world fearing men, while at the same time searching each one for the unconditional love I feel is somehow owed to me still. (I'm sure even the most casual student of psychology would cite writing to you as a manifestation of this absence, as well.)

I've grown up in an age where "feminist" has, unfortunately, come to mean something militant, angry, inherently anti-man and, by extension, anti-traditional woman, as well. I grew to consider myself a feminist without ever feeling comfortable with the connotations, aware of the inherent sexism in many aspects of our society, but unwilling or unable to offer any practical alternative. When the nomination race for the 2008 election began, I initially supported John Edwards, as I'd been impressed after meeting him at a book signing, and excited by his proposal to forgive student loan debt. (The subject of another letter, but certainly a proposal worth considering.) After the race narrowed to just you & Mrs. Clinton, I read the Op-Ed that Gloria Steinem wrote in support of Clinton and felt, (as I'm sure Steinem intended,) that it was almost traitorous for me, as a feminist, not to support Clinton. This was a fleeting feeling, as I found myself drawn to the tone of your campaign, unimpressed with her tactics, and generally reluctant to support a candidate with her unconditional-to-the-point-of-unreasonable support for Israel. Did this make me bad feminist? Did I owe it to generations of suffragists to submit to the higher calling of electing a female president? Or did they, in fact, struggle to free me from this?

Sometimes it seems like life is a series of conflicts, falsely characterized as Good vs. Evil. Men vs. Women. Black vs. White. Republican vs. Democrat. Christianity vs. Islam. As I've matured, I've learned to reject these teams as constructions, attempts to unconditionally divide me from some people and bind me to others. These teams are safe, easy, even, at times, expedient. There are days when it still feels like a game, interacting with men, playing by their rules, striving for the approval or love that they define and they control. But I don't think that this applies all men.

Today I watched my nephew, who is one and a half, and the first male baby to be born in my immediate family. He, too, has spent his early life being raised by women, women like me, who lack a clear idea of what a good man is. Are we equipped to raise this child alone? Can we give him enough examples of who he wants to become? Luckily, he has a caring and responsible father figure, recently introduced, but happy and eager to show little Asher what a good man is. I am so grateful for him, and for the number of positive male influences I have had throughout my life. This gratitude reminds me to check my sweeping characterizations of gender, or my fear of a passing male figure on the street at night, reminds me to judge people as individuals and not as reflections of or upon any larger group.

On my arm, I have a few lines by Elizabeth Cady Stanton; "in that solemn solitude of self, that links us with the immeasurable and the eternal, each soul lives alone, forever." She spoke about self-reliance, about not ceding our ability to defend or support ourselves to any other, not because they cannot always be trusted, but because they cannot always be there to protect us. Not our parents, or our mates, or our families, or even our government. Learning to reconcile this self-reliance with the companionship we all need is where life gets difficult and complicated. You, sir, are a role model for my nephew, a figure I hope he one day aspires to be like, not because you are the perfect mythological figure of Manhood, but because you have reconciled the power of your position with the humanity that limits us all. Thank you, for that.

Respectfully yours,

Kelsey