Are We Ready For a Woman President? Hell, Yes! Could We Call Her “First Mom”?
In 2020 the United States will have yet another opportunity to attempt to go where no woman has gone before…allowing a female leader to take on the responsibility of managing a nation full of often out-of-control “children” with the mental,emotional, and sexual maturity of a bunch of Middle School students on drugs….or those citizens running around in adult bodysuits with power and control issues and opinions up the wazoo.
Trump has set a precedent of over-the-top ridiculousness that might be a challenge for anyone, much less a mature woman to bring back down to ground zero and redirect our citizens who are hanging in the balance. Maybe I just know too many men in my local community who have not had very good mothers (or fathers) to set examples for them as they learn to navigate through an ever-growing, ever-changing society.
Maybe I know too many people of all ages, genders, races, and cultures who have been dealt some difficult cards in the game of life and are now homeless, jobless, and downright full of fear about their futures. Many are seeing counselors, are on anti-depressants, or other chemicals and medication to help them deal with anxiety.
I talk to a lot of people in my community here in Lane County, Oregon where the cost of living is on the rise, but the pay-rate for most available jobs doesn’t leave much left over for household necessities, insurance, or an ability to purchase a decent vehicle, much less plan for a yearly vacation or save up for their children to go to college. Some are single parents who are struggling to keep it together, and one small disaster can lead to another…such as a car getting stolen or wrecked, and no vehicle can lead to a job loss, panic, and an inability to pay rent. I have had several phone calls from young women who are terrified at the thought of becoming homeless, especially if they have young children.
Maybe a Mother for President would have a different perspective for our “rich” and “money-hungry” nation that has no empathy for mothers with children.
Keeping up with the “Joneses” is something many people I know gave up on a long time ago as they learn to live within a very modest and limited budget. Many are just grateful to have a door to lock and access to laundry facilities, so they can have a safe place to be while they heal up from traumatic events.
I know I sure gave up on trying to keep up with the Joneses or the Kardashians, or the Trumps, or even the Johnsons and Millers. I married a poor kid with the last name of Jones back when I was 19 years old and then lost everything I worked so hard for while trying to overcome ignorance, poverty and the trauma from living in America where it is legal to “slut-shame,” “mock,” and denigrate motherhood and talented, creative women.
Are we READY for a woman President? If she’s the RIGHT one for the job, we are!
I was raised to be a strong woman and to give to others out of a labor of love. My parents taught me that living and loving others requires sacrifice. ANYONE who runs for office is a courageous human being. Anyone who gives up their life to pursue a dream is a courageous human being.
So, I gave my children’s father twenty years of my life and he stole away as much as he could, tearing me down, building himself up. Maybe it is time to turn a few tables!
I gave him the house during our divorce and did not get one red cent of equity out of it. I gave it away for our children, so they would have a stable home when they visited him on weekends and holidays. I did not ask for one dime of alimony from a twenty-year marriage, because I was told we would eventually sell the house and I would get some of the equity to start over again. That never happened. So, my children’s mother was thrown under the bus in court by a handful of much more powerful women than me who believe whatever lies sound good to tickle their ears and satisfy their itchy fingers and bank accounts.
I walked out of the last courtroom fiasco with my head held high, knowing that soon things would begin to change for the better.
I would LOVE for my children to see a WOMAN as President! I would love to see a WOMAN in office before I die….except, women scare the shit out of me.
Some of the most evil-hearted, cruel, and dangerous people I have met have been women who don’t even know me. One woman strung out on drugs tackled me to the pavement and tried to pound my head in… and my friend and I were trying to find her some help. She got arrested, and the officer tried the stereotypical “blame the victim” approach and figured I must have somehow been culpable for my own attack. I am thankful that I walked away alive.
That event opened my eyes further as to exactly what kind of crisis our nation might be in and exactly how powerless so many of our citizens can be over other people’s behavior and “drug” of choice. My attacker told the judge she didn’t remember anything from that night. It is terrifying to think of what her final demise could be if she continues on her path as a community wrecking ball.
So, my own American dreams of having a big, safe, and loving family ended over a decade ago when I confronted a cute little “homewrecker” named Amber and then filed for a divorce. My family was blown apart and my children’s husband began scrambling to save face, save his ass, and save up for a really, really cut-throat attorney with a really, really “good” reputation: one who uses unethical techniques in her legal practices and is a “Liar Lawyer.”
And, so, in AMERICA some mothers can get thrown so far under the bus, it becomes full of Merry Pranksters! Some mothers can get called insane, cuckoo, crazy, nuts, and all sorts of names that they learn to weather through. Then, if they are wise, they can learn to appreciate Ken Kesey’s “Further” bus, “Chief,” and “Nurse Ratched” all the more than the first time they read or watched “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest”!
So, sometimes men are “winners,” and sometimes women are “chicken dinners” and get dismissed from court and even University classes in a series of unfortunate events. Eventually, we get dismissed from life altogether, right? Eventually, women get disrespected, disregarded, disobeyed, and dismayed. I know I have been dismayed at how my society has decided and determined my ability to access and maintain my vital relationships in this world of mine. My society has disabled me as a mother, merely by “labeling” me as a “bad” mother because another woman was paid to dig deep for dirt and got away with a false accusation which another woman believed without any evidence so yet another woman could replace me as a mother altogether.
Talk about a slap in the face.
However, I gave this world eight beautiful children.
Eight beautiful children who I am now not allowed to speak to, or spend time with due to my husband’s ridiculous and unfounded fears about creative women like me. I hardly have any access to my children as they grow into adults due to our broken system that makes money off of broken families like mine who are riddled with fear, anxiety, health, and money-related issues.
Maybe a woman President can fix some things in my family full of non-communicators who have been taught not to respect educated women, female artists, and creative mothers who are POOR due to unfair advantage and unequal access to resources.
You see, I am a BIG champion for women’s rights. I am a BIG fan of Mary Wollstonecraft’s “Vindication of the Rights of Women.” Women have been taught to submit to men quietly and to the authority of men for eons! Men who are in charge often make mistakes in judgment and wisdom while trusting in some Higher Power that supposedly continues to “anoint” a male “father” figure to lead our nation.
“If women be educated for dependence; that is, to act according to the will of another fallible being, and submit, right or wrong, to power, where are we to stop?” ~ Wollstonecraft
The problem with many male leaders is they often like to play war with real people’s lives while “racing” to some glorious final and bloody end. Many men (and many women) enjoy their gold toilet lifestyles at the expense of other people’s trauma and heartache. There is money to be found in war, whether it is international, civil, or domestic. There is money to be found in football wars and boxing matches while we wonder how come so many of our children have brain trauma injuries and testosterone-driven male macho-ism issues.
How did I become a Women’s Rights advocate?
My Daddy was a logger who served our country as a young man in the military; he was practical, humble, simple, and had the mind of a brilliant inventor. He was also a religious fanatic stuck in the archaic days of the Old Testament where women were treated much like so many chickens and goats. My mother was a housekeeper who lost a child to an unfortunate death and never fully recovered from her trauma and grief. She taught me how to knit and crochet and forage for berries over here in the woods of Oregon. My Daddy drank beer and my mother smoked cigarettes. They were very good, but very imperfect parents. My mother voted Democrat, my father told me to stay out of politics altogether and never vote or swear allegiance to ANY country or nation.
I was raised wielding an ax and learned how to chop off chicken heads at a young age and how to swing a hammer to drive a nail or remove a door, a sledge hammer to break up concrete, and a pick ax to remove Yucca plants from undesirable locations. I learned how to work around, and joke with, construction workers as I hand them tools like a surgical assistant…(“Wanna screw around?” is a common joke offered along with a screwdriver)….and, I went to school to learn how to set tile. I can chop wood and handle power tools that many women have never even touched. Some of the women I grew up with know how to handle chainsaws and guns like professionals. I worked in a produce department and can handle knives that might make some people nervous while cutting through a hard-shelled squash. I learned how to be careful and managed to do my job without cutting myself.
Then, I learned how to wash up, put on a sexy dress and fix my hair for an evening of taking in a Shakespeare play or an opera at our local Hult Center for performing arts…or a night playing pool and dancing up a storm in a local bar. I learned social graces and how to carry myself in fine-dining restaurants and how to host a Thanksgiving dinner for a party of twelve in my own home, complete with napkins.
I learned to do these things while growing up, even though most of our evening meals as a child were eaten while gathered around the television watching the news. My parents were poor blue-collar workers and often informal. But, they knew how to wash up and show up and behave decently in certain social settings. However, as poor as we were, they made certain to give me ballet lessons and art classes and biblical, moral lessons by which to live. And, they did this while possessing a pool table in our living room and living right around the corner from a small-town police department riddled with corruption.
Today, I can talk to ex-felons while playing pool in a bar just as well as academic professors at the University about such concepts as “Militant Fecundity” and the underground movement of many narrow-minded Bible-thumpers following the Quiverful Movement to bring about a world take-over as they out-populate all of the “sinful” unbelievers. My friends tell me I am one of those resilient and versatile women who has lived through a lot.
I believe I have already made my peace with God, and after being put through hell as a wife, a mother, a student, and a fellow American, I tell my friends “God” must be an acronym for “Government of Druggies,” or “Government of Dogs,” or “Government of Drunks.”
Are we ready for a FEMALE leader and example? I believe we are!
My ex-husband reports to be scared of me now that I hold a couple of degrees in English and Creative Writing from the University of Oregon. Maybe it is because I got into comedy and I often play with words and names.
I guess either I am now a scary dude …or, he is an insecure little boy trapped in a grown-ass man’s body and he just wants me to fork over my lunch money or go without seeing our children ever again. The courts in my state have given him complete power and control, just like a dictator loves to have. I am now riddled with PTSD as I remember everything he put me through while married to him. Now, the courts in America have demoted me back to the ages where women were told to sit down, shut up, and like a child be seen and not heard.
I went to school to learn to speak out against injustices. I just didn’t go to school to learn how to navigate through the court system and engage in cruel and unusual punishment and unethical treatment of another human being, much less an animal in human form.
Maybe a female President can help my ex-husband grow up and get over his fears of ever allowing our children to LOVE and accept both of their parents and teach them to CHOOSE love over fear.
The media states that the woman holding office of Presidency would have to be strong, but not angry; prepared but not academic; like-able but not forced.
That is a TALL order!
Maybe she should be a rape survivor who can forgive her rapist. Maybe she should be a philosopher who is prepared to die for her country, because she would realize that “Presidency” equals “Chief Scapegoat.” Someone in our country who gets some hair-brained idea of assassination might try and eliminate her off of the earth altogether…we have a history of that treatment of leadership behind us. She would have to be willing to be likened to a Queen.
Even in England, men who did not like the Queen would announce, “Off with her head!”
A female President would have to be motherly, sexy, attractive, intelligent, articulate, empathetic, emotionally in control, able to get even, not get angry, and even get funny. She would have to have a sense of humor. It would help everyone if she knew how to dance and knit and crochet. If she could teach our nation to embrace “play” instead of “violence” to solve issues, maybe we could all put away the guns, the nuclear buttons, and leave the weapons alone so we don’t accidentally hurt our enemies.
She would have to be a “lady” in the streets and in the bed. Or, she would have to be a “freak” in the streets and in the bed. She would have to be a Pussy…cat, a Cougar, and a Sabertooth tiger all rolled into one. She would have to have an invisible dick, and know how to walk softly. She would have to carry a big stick…or a magic wand, or a cross.
She would have to be discriminating, and have impeccable taste and decorum as well as an approved of fashion sense in her dress and attire: not too much bling, and not too conservative. She would have to be moderate in all things: not too overly religious and not too scientifically analytical, and not too addicted to any substances. She would have to know when to hold her tongue and not be so verbose and long-winded that the average citizen with an eighth-grade education couldn’t comprehend her words and her meanings.
She might even have to be creative and decide to have a nightly bedtime story hour for children that gets aired on television at a decent time each night before they all get tucked sweetly and safely into bed by their parents. It would help if she could wear a chicken outfit while reading to our nation’s children.
She might then host another bedtime story hour for the parents who can handle a few well chosen cuss words and bring back some common sense to our nation. It would help if she stayed in the chicken outfit so she could talk to men about their peckers and to women about pecking orders and how to keep “order” in the courts of their own realms.
She would have to understand the difference between gold toilet lifestyles, porcelain toilet lifestyles, outhouse lifestyles, and port-a-potty lifestyles. She would have to be able to talk to kids stuck out on the streets and give them hugs and encouragement for a better future. She would have to know how to handle a street kid who tries to take her coffee mug out of her hands while saying, “What would you do if I told you I was gonna shove this up your ass?”
She might have to explain to said little street thug that that wouldn’t be a very wise thing to do. Then, when said little street thug replies, “You think you’re cool don’t you?” She might need to respond with, “Me? Cool? No, you’re cool. I’m just old. If you live long enough, you might get old like me.”
She might also need to be able to tell said street thugs, “Nobody is worth going to prison and getting butt-raped over, is there?” Then, she might need to be able to tell the young female nearby that she is beautiful and not to let anyone EVER tell her otherwise as she walks away after giving them all hugs like some street mom.
She would have to understand the double bind of the “Madonna/Whore” complex, as well as “Parental Alienation Syndrome,” and what can happen to a complex nation riddled with divorce and domestic violence. She would have to be able to withstand being falsely accused of crimes she did not commit and still be able to hold her head up when her name gets smeared and investigators dig up as much dirt on her as they can find, and the media has a feeding frenzy like a shark fest as is the custom of our great nation.
She would have to be able to have her archetype and her face turned into a toilet bowl brush, her caricature splashed all over newspapers in political cartoons making fun of every single thing she says and does, or ever said or did.
She would have to be riddled with a Martyr Complex and be willing to be sacrificed for the love of her country and her fellow man, woman, and other minor citizens, like children and minorities…such as artists and marginalized mothers like me. She would have to be able to handle threats to her safety, her sexuality, and her emotional stability.
Are we ready for a female President? I’d say so! I would love to see a rise in female power in our nation full of strong, courageous women who just might not have a Willy… I mean Dick…I mean Richard…Nixon…Spencer…KKK …white supremacy, war-mongering patriarchal attitude in the way!
Double Bind. If we elect a WOMAN for PRESIDENT, maybe our nation will learn to respect women once again…or, maybe WOMEN will learn to be able to be a bit more merciful to one another and our abusive youth who are troubled and possibly in trouble while wandering the streets at night.
