A Woman's Place- Part 2

In 2007, Benjamin R. Barber, a political theorist and director of the Interdependence Movement, published a book about how consumer capitalism is breaking down the fabric of society. I mention this because the home and church are part of the fabric of society, and while there are those who blame feminism for the implosion of solid, stable homes, I believe there is a simpler explanation.

  In Consumed: How Markets Corrupt Children, Infantilize Adults, and Swallow Citizens Whole, Barber shows how the commercial economies in the western world have forced children to grow up faster, made sweat shops in underdeveloped countries thrive, and pressured adults in capitalistic societies to put off saving in favor of spending money they don’t have. He then takes his premise one step further by saying consumers have taken the place of citizens.

For centuries, women have entered into marriage expecting to work and take on more responsibility. While some wives have labored alongside their husbands, others have cultivated their own garden, educated children, or found a separate job to increase the household budget. My maternal grandmother helped out at a local grocery store for one dollar a week during the Great Depression. My father’s mother had nine children and spent her evenings changing bedpans and nursing the sick at the local hospital.

I believe our expectations of marriage have changed since the introduction of modern conveniences like online shopping, streaming video, credit cards, and Disney movies that portray love and marriage as a sugar-coated, happily-ever-after experience. As American consumers, we are bombarded with commercials on television, Facebook, YouTube, the newspaper, Google, blogs, and magazines. Barber writes that this pushing of “stuff” does wonders for the US economy, but that by giving buyers whatever they want right now, adults have forgotten how to delay gratification.

Ironically, the ability to give up something now for future payoff is vital for building a fulfilling marriage and successful family. The “Peter Pan tendency” described by Barber as the infantilization of adults for consumer gain, isn’t just a money thing. It has bled into the very fiber of our culture. Nowhere is this plainer than on shows like Two and a Half Men, where the commitment phobic leading man avoids marriage and fatherhood while sleeping with a different woman almost every night. His lifestyle allows him to have all kinds of grownup toys: a big screen television, a cook to make his meals, expensive clothes, a leather couch, walls without smudges and brown fingerprints from children’s hands—the benefits of success without the work of family life. Why grow up when you can stay a kid forever?

In a society where we prize material wealth, there are all kinds of reasons not to start a family. My local Safeway store sells Huggies for $30 a box, one tin of powdered formula is $25, every few months I fork out hundreds of dollars for shoes, but this pales in comparison to the $900 a month charged by the preschool three blocks from my house. According to a study done by the USDA in 2009, the cost of raising a child in a middle income family from birth to age 17 sits at around $222,000 (a figure that doesn’t include college).

Raising kids requires sacrifice, and dealing with the judgments of other people doesn’t make this sacrifice any easier. As a Gen Xer stuck between baby boomers who used mostly physical forms of discipline and young trendy parents who think Time Outs are abusive, I’m always receiving unsolicited advice. At the drug store a few months ago, one man told me to chill out after I reprimanded my daughter for not coming when I called her. A few weeks later a different sort of parent confronted me at Barnes & Noble, “Do you hit your kids?” he asked.

“Of course I don’t,” I said.

“Well . . . you’d be surprised what one controlled smack will do.” Maybe it’s bad, but I wanted to smack him. Parenting is hard enough without heading up a PR campaign. And let’s face it; mothers of small children could use some positive press.

They could also do without having others label them “breeders” and “baby factories.” To have morning sickness, labor, sleep deprivation, diaper duty, loss of privacy, and the constant stress of setting a good example for your child even when they’re throwing a massive tantrum in the middle of the post office, referred to as merely “popping out babies” is demeaning to all women, not just those who reproduce.

Do I recognize there are people who think my choice to raise a family make me anti-feminist? You bet. Just as I realize that my ability to own property, vote, and plan my own life are made possible through the hard won efforts of feminists like Elizabeth Cady Stanton, who in addition to her work as an activist, reared seven children and remained faithful to one man for 47 years until his death in 1887. By today’s standards, she’d be called an anti-feminist too, and chances are she’d be appalled at the article I ran across on CNN.com a few months ago, where William Bennett, author of The Book of Man: Readings on the Path to Manhood writes, “A shift in cultural norms, a changing workforce and the rise of women have left many men in an identity crisis. It makes for good comedy, but bad families. . . .  Most feminists aren’t celebrating the decline of men and shouting it from the rooftops.”

Bennett blames the deterioration of the male condition on the rights and opportunities of women, but provides no evidence to back up his assertion. In an article printed in the November 2011 Atlantic Monthly, Kate Bolick tries to connect the rise of women with the decline of men by pointing out that “in 2010, 55 percent of college graduates ages 25 to 29 were women.” She tells us that “as of last year, women held 51.4 percent of all managerial and professional positions,” and writes that “male median wages have fallen by 32 percent since their peak in 1973.” But correlation is not causation, and even she doesn’t have the gumption to state that the deterioration of the male condition is a direct consequence of feminism. Unfortunately, logic is not enough to counter the conviction of those who insist feminism is ruining men and destroying the family. Nowhere is this attitude more prevalent than in the LDS church.

The gender roles assigned by the Mormon patriarchy are at odds with Elizabeth Cady Stanton’s vision of equality. Women have limited authority in the church and strive to live laws which they have no voice in forming. Though a twelve-year old boy ordained to the Aaronic priesthood can pass the sacrament and collect fast offerings for the poor, no woman, no matter her age, is permitted to serve in like manner. When appearing before a church court, women appeal only to men, making a jury of her peers impossible. And if ever she commits a sin requiring forgiveness from higher authority, she must confess to a man who holds apostolic power from God. 

While the Declaration of Sentiments written at the Seneca Falls Women’s Convention in 1850 might use this as an example of man usurping “ . . . the prerogative of Jehovah himself, claiming his right to assign for her (woman) a sphere of action, when that belongs to her conscience and to her God,” most members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints believe any woman who asks to serve in the same capacity as a man is ungodly and prideful, and that the significance of motherhood disqualifies her from such service.

In “Daughters of My Kingdom: The History and Work of Relief Society,” put out by the church in 2011, we learn of the experience of a 16-year-old girl, who finds comfort in the words of her leaders. “In her innermost feelings, this young woman had always wanted to be a mother, but she had been concerned that motherhood was unpopular and even denigrated by many people in the world. She was comforted when she heard prophets and apostles affirm the goodness of her ideals.”

A woman’s most noble path in the church is defined by her gender. Without motherhood she cannot reach her full potential, give service equal to that of a priesthood holder, or fulfill the most important duty God wants her to perform: raising righteous children unto The Lord.

I can see a number of benefits to this value system and understand why so many people embrace it. As a stay-at-home mother who is on this path, I don’t like hearing my life choices denigrated anymore than a career woman does. For years I believed what was preached from the pulpit: that feminism is waging a war on the family. Now I think those who blame female rights for the destruction of the family are setting up a straw man.

A Woman's Place- Part 1

By Angela Felsted

In 1999, one year after I graduated from college, I agreed to marry someone I hardly knew. We had been dating less than three months and neither of us had reason to rush things. He wasn’t dying; I wasn’t pregnant; and we both had our US citizenship. My younger brother, who was serving a two-year Mormon mission, wanted me to delay the marriage until he got home. I refused, but in defense of my rash decision, there were two things pushing me toward the altar: romantic love, and a desire to hold onto my virginity until my nuptials.

Turmoil set in after our honeymoon. I slept on the couch a lot. (My in-laws and parents were unaware of my struggles since I put on a smile and said everything was fine.) It seemed like the man I lived with had changed overnight, and I wanted my fiancé back. He had been so thoughtful while we dated—bringing me daisies, holding my hand, snuggling with me on the couch. I had thought, when we married, that I’d wake up in his arms each morning, or fall asleep looking into his brown eyes. Instead my husband made the bed with separate blankets. He went stiff when I embraced him and took issue with my “clinginess.” When I worked to keep an optimistic outlook, I could accept his need for space. Other times I felt desperate and alone. Was I foolish to believe marriage would be blissful?

Twelve years later, I still ask myself this question. I am 35, with a husband who has learned to hug me when I cry, four kids finally old enough to dress themselves, and a new illusion shattered: that motherhood is a fulfilling and idyllic legacy.

With kids in elementary school, I thought I’d miss the infant stage—the rush of love I got from watching my newborn son in sleep, lashes spread out like half moons against his cheeks. Rather I feel like I’m leaving a dark tunnel, with tantrums, dirty diapers, and sleepless nights behind me. In the years before I had children, I didn’t fear parenting because I believed myself an expert. This wasn’t pride so much as ignorance; I put my younger sister to bed when I was 10, started babysitting at 12, worked at a daycare center at 19, and looked down my nose at parents who could not control their children.

There were a lot of things I failed to grasp as a young single woman. My choice to marry a man I’d dated for less than six months for emotional reasons (“romantic love”), can be attributed to the naïve storybook belief that everyone has a match. And my decision to place sexual morality above the modern notion of testing the waters (“a desire to hold onto my virginity until my nuptials”) is a principle modeled by my mother, who chose to stay home with her five children in the seventies and eighties, when second-wave feminism called rigid gender roles oppressive.

Growing up in a traditional Mormon home, I saw no problems with the patriarchal model my parents used. My father presided insofar as he chose which of his kids would say grace at the dinner table. He brought home a paycheck, gave the occasional priesthood blessing, and taught me how to ride a bike and throw a Frisbee. When my brothers turned twelve and were ordained Deacons, they passed the bread and water each Sunday and began to prepare for their missions through study and prayer. I was taught that a woman had no greater calling than to marry a worthy priesthood holder and rear a family. In high school, my female church leaders put together a fashion show where we wore our mother’s wedding dresses. I’d never kissed a boy, never been out on a date, and worried about placing so much value on something I could not control. At this point I had yet to hear anyone state that stay-at-home mothers were oppressed. My father was (and remains) a man who does dishes and vacuums floors. Even so, I refused to base my worth on men’s opinions, and chose instead to focus on my education.

My parents were proud when they dropped me off at Brigham Young University (owned by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) in September of 1994. I shared a kitchen with five other girls who could not have been more different. Two of them planned to pursue their degrees come hell or high water, one made it known she would put it on hold for the right man, and the two remaining had enrolled for the sole purpose of finding a husband. Apparently, they viewed forking out thousands of dollars to a college they had no intention of graduating from as an investment rather than a waste of money.

In fairness, if their church leaders had been anything like mine, these girls had been told in every meeting and activity that a woman had no greater calling than to marry a righteous priesthood holder and rear a family. They simply wanted their lives to start.

Last night as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling fan to the left of my bed, I tried to explain to my husband that the pressure he felt to go on a mission at 19 is exactly like the pressure Mormon girls feel to get married to a worthy man. My husband wisely mentioned how tiresome it is to hear women in their twenties label themselves old maids. I had one such roommate my junior year who asked me how I could stand my single status when she believed hers meant there was something wrong with her. I kept myself from laughing at the lunacy of her statement only because she was about to cry. What I should have done was ask her why she needed a man (or anyone else) to tell her she was lovable?

I mention this as a tangent, a piece of the bigger picture, but it is also a necessary part of the story. In 1972, when my 31-year-old mother, who worked in DC as a secretary for the FBI, married a musician seven years younger than herself, she’d taken a leap of faith not uncommon for a Mormon woman. By the time she was 45, she had four healthy children and a 6-year-old son newly diagnosed with Type 1 Diabetes. The church took care of her needs. Meals were brought in, childcare provided. How is it that the same patriarchal system which afforded her so much security had the power to chip away at my roommate’s self-esteem by defining her as a wife and mother before she had even married?

What my parents and youth leaders really wanted was for us girls to find love, raise a family and be productive citizens. I don’t think anyone intended to create a culture where single women and those who deal with infertility struggle with their worth as human beings.

With single parent households rising and half of new marriages failing in the United States, the Mormon patriarchy is clinging harder than ever to traditional marriage. Preparing young women for motherhood by holding up pictures of LDS temples like those of Cinderella’s castle, where prince charming will whisk them away and give them a blissful storybook ending. But what most of us find upon entering our fairy tale kingdom is that the servants have been dismissed, and that we must build our relationship without a personal maid to cover up the girth of our frustrations, or a laundress to wash out the stains of our emotional baggage.

The God Crisis

How do you define God these days? What about spirituality? Have you progressed beyond an LDS testimony of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ and into another religious point of view, or into agnosticism or atheism?

For some, following a crisis of faith and disaffection from the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, there is almost a second crisis when the “God Question” comes into focus. And as with a faith crisis, you can be left feeling confused and isolated, unsure how to refocus your thinking and redefine your life.

Recently Kiley from We Were Going to be Queens posted her thoughts as she revisited questions surrounding belief in God. She writes in part:
The whole “God question” is troubling to me because it is hard for me to think about there being a god without my next question being what does he/she want from me? Why do we suppose that such a being would want something from us? What would God want of me?”

If I were to try and answer the question of what a being like God would want of me I think this is it. Be happy. Help others be happy. So in some ways I'm not sure this post is anything I have not already said before but I think that we have to be happy to live in the present. I think that is what a loving creator would really want of us. That is all my little heart and brain can worry about right now.

Part of the founders’ vision when the Peacewriter began last fall included finding peace and understanding along the way by sharing thoughts and feelings through the written word. And it has been a privilege to read some of the writings others have contributed.

Have you found a spiritual home post-LDS? Some desire a faith community following a split from the Church, while others take a path that leads to atheism. Still others embark on a continual evolution which changes as time passes.

Where do you fall?

What does prayer mean to you now?

Do you have a story you would like to share? No matter where you are or what you believe, or do not believe, I want to publish as many contributions on the subject over the coming weeks. Simply type up an essay and send it to the Peacewriter through our contact page.

Thank you.