my feminist ancestry

I’ve been wanting to write about the women in my family for awhile and have never gotten around to it., specifically about my maternal grandmother and her mother. Their two stories have been inspiring me for years, reminding me that I am a thoughtful, strong woman that comes from strong female stock. I like to pretend that I don’t have heroes but as I get older, I realize the great number of role models in my life and in my past.

My great-grandmother didn’t want children. She married a man who was one of ten children. I don’t know the details of their negotiations, but she gave birth to my grandmother in 1927. My great-grandfather was a gambling addict. She kicked him out of the house. She was not going to have her daughter grow up around his addiction. She would take him back when he quit. It took him thirteen years. They never divorced, but my grandmother was basically raised by a single mother. When the Depression hit, many members of the family moved in with them. My great-grandmother supported her family until the economy recovered. She was a secretary in an office. My grandmother used to tell me about going to visit when she was on school holiday or over the summer. Her mother ran that office and ordered the men around and kept it working like clockwork. But she was just a “secretary.” When my grandmother tells me that I remind her of her mother. I can’t help but smile.

When my grandmother was around ten years old or so, she was walking with her grandmother on the streets of New Orleans. There was an African-American woman across the street from them. My grandmother said, “Grandma, look at that black lady.” Her grandmother slapped her. My grandmother was an only and spoiled child (her words). She was not used to being slapped or spanked. Her grandmother looked at her and said, “That is a black woman. She is not a lady.” My grandmother stayed silent but thought that that was simply wrong. She raised her own children to know that all people are people, regardless of skin color. My grandmother has been a good friend and great traveling buddy, and I will regret not spending more time with her.

Of course this is not the extent of the amazing women in my family. My mother raised two independent, strong women while holding a full time job and running a household. I feel lucky to have good, supportive men in my family as well. These two stories are just the ones that I hold close when life gets difficult.