I used to have a picture of Hillary
Clinton on my wall. In 1999, I was the
accompanist for a middle school choir that sang at the White House at a
Christmas Party for volunteers. Towards
the end of the performance Hilary came to greet us, and I shook her hand
before she took a picture with the group.
The children stood on risers with Hilary on the right. My
24-year-old self was bunched in with the other adults on the left. The picture
was strange; the photographer had achieved a perspective where Hillary looked
like the tallest one in the frame.
I loved that picture, and I liked
Hillary. Other adults on the trip
commented that she seemed cold when they met her. I thought that she must shake a lot of hands,
and I couldn’t imagine the personal energy and time it takes to be warm with
every person she must meet. I loved how
smart she was, yet it mystified me that I knew a lot of people with whom I
otherwise politically agreed who just didn’t like her at all. In some cases, I recognized in their judgements the
double standard towards women that I had always seen in my own life and lives
of other strong women around me.
Back in the Bill Clinton era, I was in undergraduate
studies and then newly in the workforce.
I called myself a feminist openly and got so much push back that I
called myself a “feminazi” to make light of it.
I often said that my definition of feminism was “the belief that a
person’s opportunities or access to life should not be limited by their gender.” When put like this, many more people claimed
to agree with me. I was apparently known in my community as a “feminazi,” and
not always in the good way. When I met
my now partner, he heard in serious tones from someone who knew someone I went
to college with over 10 years before and on the opposite coast that I was “a
feminazi.”
One of the few bright points in the
otherwise dismal media coverage of the 2016 campaign is the attention payed to
the rampant misogyny arrayed against Mrs. Clinton. I would agree that yes, she has always played
politically on a rigged field, as every woman in life plays on a rigged field. I am glad that these things are finally
news. I am delighted that the word
“mansplaining” has entered the common lexicon, and I am happy for the good that
this growing awareness could do for women everywhere.
My problem is that many legitimate
criticisms are now being dismissed as sexist.
If I try to point out that it sends a bad message when someone claiming
to be a champion of the poor wears a $12,000 coat as they talk
about inequality, I am attacked for being sexist for criticizing what she
wears. If I try to say that her foreign
policy record swings towards the hawkish, I am attacked saying that I wouldn’t
make such a charge against a man with a similar record. Perhaps that is true for some of her critics,
but that is not where I am coming from, and her record makes this a valid
concern.
As an American with left leaning political tendencies,
I have been profoundly disappointed with her record. From her blind support for Israel and
vilification of the Palestinians to her promotion of fracking around the globe,
from her vote for the war in Iraq to her on camera displays of arrogance and condescension
towards Black Lives Matter protestors, I am heartbroken for what she might have
been instead. Regardless of gender or
intellect, she has sadly become a candidate that I cannot believe in or
actively support.*
As for me, the picture with Hillary is no longer on my wall. It's demise happened a number of years ago after I put my things into
storage while preparing for a move overseas. I
was heartbroken when I finally opened what I thought was a safe time capsule
to discover that water had permeated everything leaving a moldy inky ruin in
its wake. If I still had it, I might
still keep it out. In the dining room, I
keep a picture of Richard Nixon in mid stride while bowling. A large button proclaiming “I like Ike” was my
Christmas tree topper a few years ago. I am a political animal, after all. There is still time and hope for Hillary that
she might do something to make her portrait again worthy of a place honor in my home.
*And
what about the orange-tinted menace who uses some of the most openly misogynistic
language of any modern candidate? Would
I rather have him with that type of power or with the nuclear codes? Of course not. The outcome of not voting for
Hilary as portrayed in the media still feels so absurd that I almost feel as if
I am being played in a giant show designed to create support for a predetermined
outcome. But that would be an idea for another blog post.
