An Indecent Man

Forget politics.

I want to focus on one thing and one thing only here: What it means to be a decent human being.

Why are we indecent?

Pretty much every human religion ever invented has a mechanism for explaining and dealing with (however imperfectly) the fact that we humans do not always treat each other decently. Most of us, when it comes down to it, basically want to be decent, but we fail on a daily basis to live up to our ideals.

This is fine; this is what it means to be human. I have spent my parenting years helping my kids wrestle with this. It’s a common issue in the classes I teach. It’s good and right that kids wrestle with this issue, and it’s good and right for them to be put into situations where they clash with others who are unlike them so that they get used to wrestling with this issue.

Bullies are often the first ones to point fingers and call themselves victims.
Bullies are often the first ones to point fingers and call themselves victims.

This indecent man

Then there’s our president-elect. I’m not going to discuss his policies.

What I want to discuss is how he is an indecent man, and anyone who supports him becomes, through their support, indecent. Luckily, there’s a way to come back to decency—I’ll get to that.

In what ways is he indecent?

He’s a liar.

All politicians stretch and bend the truth to try to make their case. All politicians change their positions (which I think is a good thing!). All politicians say what their audience wants to hear as much as they can.

However, our president-elect is, quite simply, a liar. He clearly believes that whatever he says becomes true, which is the mark of someone who is a liar to the core. The most effective liars believe themselves deeply and consistently. The most effective liars simply dismiss anything that isn’t consistent with their lie as a lie.

If you support him, you support a liar.

He’s a bigot.

Even when he’s trying to be nice to people, he shows his bigotry. Remember, believing that something is better about a group of people based on an attribute they have no control over is bigotry, too. So when he makes generalizations about women, people of color, immigrants, the disabled—add other categories here—and says something “nice,” remember that’s still bigotry. Though let’s face it, most of the content of what he says is negative.

If you are still on the fence about whether or not he’s a bigot, look at his supporters in the “alt-right”—let’s call them by their real title—white supremacists. They believe he’s a bigot, and they like that about him.

If you support him, you support a bigot.

He uses his wealth for power, not to help others.

This is an important aspect of a decent person that, again, all religions agree on: decent people always help others when they can. Ironically, research shows that the less you have to give, the more likely you are to give your time and money to help others.

In other words, it’s hard being rich. It’s really hard to help others that you don’t see, don’t have contact with, and think of as “the other.” But it’s easy enough, if you’re rich, at least to give some money. Any money.

Yes, our president-elect has a foundation, but there seems to be little evidence that he has used it to help anyone. It’s also worth a fraction of the billions he says he has. And it has spent plenty of money helping…him and his family.

If you support him, you support using wealth only to empower the wealthy.

He treats others with open disdain.

It’s true that politicians are often accused of being disdainful, such as Mitt Romney after his 47% comment or Hillary Clinton after her “basket of deplorables” comment.

But our president-elect doesn’t have to say things that can be perceived as disdainful—he is simply openly disdainful. The way he behaves towards others—even, sometimes, rich white men like him—is indecent. He shows no respect for the dignity of other human beings.

If you support him, you support treating others with disdain.

How can we fix this?

The following is what I teach my children and my students.

  1. Reject indecency
    Do not vote for or support people who do not treat others decently
  2. Call out indecency
    Don’t (out of a fear of impropriety) hide the fact that you reject indecent people
  3. Ask others to reject indecency
    Make the “call to action” so that others see someone standing up for common decency
  4. Do all of this decently
    Don’t, in the name of decency, behave indecently

I have decided to be open about the fact that I reject indecency in our personal and political spheres, and thus I reject our president-elect.

I ask you also, no matter who you voted for, to reject indecency in our personal and political spheres, and thus reject our president-elect.

If you voted for him, rejecting indecency is your ticket back to decency.

If you do not reject him openly and publicly, then you, in your silence, join in the support of indecency.

This blog is not about politics, but it is about parenting. And all parents know that sometimes it’s uncomfortable to do what’s right.

From the HEM archives: The Feminist Homeschooler

I was sad to see that after the demise of the long-running Home Education Magazine, the publisher chose to take down the entire site, and with it the archive of years of articles that they published. I wrote for HEM for only the last two years, but I loved being able to contribute to an important voice in homeschooling. Since these articles are no longer available online, I am going to start publishing them here on my blog.

The Feminist Homeschooler

friendSuzieWhen my daughter was in kindergarten, it was politely suggested to me that she might do better in homeschool. I shrugged it off. Me, homeschool? I had thought of the first day of kindergarten as the first day back to my “real” life—my writing career.

Then, all of a sudden, we were homeschoolers.

If I’d imagined anything about my future daughter, I may have imagined a little Gloria Steinem.

Not a little Emma Goldman.

My daughter’s personality is way too big for a quiet little Montessori school room. That I learned over three months. But it took me years to understand that homeschooling was not just what we did because we had to, but a positive choice for her…and me, a lifelong feminist.

It has been four years since we reluctantly left school with nothing but the wish to find a better way. Homeschooling is now an integral part of my life. I have found wise, funny, intelligent, and—true to the stereotype—nurturing women in my homeschooling community. Most of the homeschooling parents I know are extremely dedicated to their educational choice.

All of us know that we’re doing the right thing, until someone drops the F-word: feminist.

Where did all the men go?

The role of women is the elephant in the room in homeschooling circles. We don’t really want to talk about this, but there it is: all of the parents who are on the board of my homeschooling cooperative are women. All of the teachers in our public homeschool program are women. Dads support their families through their work and through evening childcare so the moms can get together and commiserate. Dads show up to homeschooling events sporadically, mostly on weekends. A relative few take part in the actual homeschooling, and only a smattering out of millions stay home full-time.

One mom I know relates a story of a dad walking into a homeschooling campout and all the women stopping what they were doing to gawk: “It’s a man!”

But I’m not terribly comfortable with just letting this issue lie around unquestioned. I asked a wide list of my homeschooling correspondents, some of whom I know personally but most of whom I only “know” online, to respond to a few pointed questions in an anonymous, online survey. Within hours, 93 people had offered their thoughts, from taciturn “yes” or “no” to rolling text that sometimes spilled over into passionate direct e-mails to me.

Not surprisingly, almost all my correspondents said that they believed it was important to teach their kids about equal rights and opportunities for both boys and girls. Divorced from divisive political arguments, this issue is pretty uncontroversial amongst educated parents. But I was also not surprised that a full quarter of my correspondents don’t consider themselves “feminists,” disowning the label while believing in the tenets behind it.

Disowning the F-word

I purposely asked the first question without using the F-word, to remove any conflicted feelings respondents might have about the word. Divorced from the baggage of “feminism,” it’s clear that most of my fellow homeschoolers feel that what they’re doing is a positive, feminist choice for themselves and their children.

“I don’t have any conflicting feelings because it is a choice, not something I or any other woman has to do because she is a woman,” said one correspondent, summing up what most of them said.

“I feel that I have a huge impact on the world by homeschooling, and I am enjoying it personally.”

Once I identified the purpose of my survey, many of the women forcefully argued that staying home to educate their children clearly falls within the definition of a feminist choice.

“I have been the sole/main breadwinner for my family at different times,” one mom explained. “I didn’t feel any different than when I was at home. Either way, I’m exercising my choice. That is what the early feminists fought for.”

“Forcing women to follow a traditionally ‘male,’ linear career model is just as bad as keeping women out of the paid workforce,” pointed out another mom.

Others stressed that homeschooling is work, and important work at that.

“Nurturing, raising, and educating children is an incredibly important job—possibly the most important job I’ll ever have in my life—and feminism is about supporting a woman’s right to choose her path—it’s not about restricting her life in new and different ways!”

“I view it as the most important ‘work’ I’ve ever done. Maybe because I already had a career, and didn’t feel that I needed to prove anything to anyone any more.”

The conflict

Like that last correspondent, some homeschoolers are clearly conflicted because of how they fear others perceive them. It’s not that they themselves have a problem with their choice, but that they hear a negative message from family and friends.

“There are times that I have felt less interesting to others because I am not working outside the home,” explained one mom. “However, I also know that I am living my life for myself and my family and so I must make choices that will benefit us.”

“I do have trouble with the whole perception of the ‘homemaker.’ I often feel embarrassed to describe myself as SAHM, and will augment it with other adjectives,” confessed another.

Others admitted that they felt at war with their own upbringing by second-wave feminists who believed it was a woman’s duty to prove that she was equal to men in the workplace.

“I had questioned [homeschooling] at first, only because of my upbringing. I was raised by a single mom with strong feminist views. But after looking at what was right for me and my family, I felt more grounded with my decision to stay home.”

“I try to let go of these feelings because my homeschool community is largely SAHMs, women I love dearly, but I do often feel a sense of privilege/feminine dependence from these traditional families that I haven’t been raised with,” another mom confessed. “I was raised by a very strong feminist mother who’d have a conniption fit if I’d decided to be financially ‘cared for’ by my husband while losing my job skills and raising the kids!”

My circle of homeschoolers does not include a large percentage of radicals on either side of the political spectrum, but the Fox News view of feminism was certainly represented:

“See, that’s the thing that makes absolutely no sense at all,” pointed out one correspondent, for whom the F-word was obviously a heavily loaded bomb. “Is feminism about being pro-female, or is it about being politically correct to the latest flavor of girl-power?”

Actually, it’s not about either of those things.

Another correspondent confused the push for quality childcare with a mandate that all children must be taken from their homes.

“I guess feminism = socialism, where kids are raised in a factory while every adult goes and does their specialized work.”

My other correspondents did a pretty good job of answering those voices, which they have clearly heard in their own lives:

“I think that women who feel that staying at home with their children is a non-feminist act are reacting more to their own personal circumstances than they are to what is feminist and what isn’t,” suggested one homeschooler. “If I’m a feminist must I have a job/career outside my home? I don’t think so.”

What do the girls think?

Clearly, some homeschooling moms feel uneasy about the message they are sending to their daughters.

“I feel bad that I can’t personally model a professional working woman,” one woman regretted. “Fortunately, I have several working mom friends to do that for me.”

Other homeschoolers believe that because they haven’t been steeped in a culture of fixed gender roles, their homeschooled children have become natural feminists, seeing women’s choices as choices, not gender-based obligations.

“One day, my daughter was talking to my mom, who is a Rabbi, and my daughter was getting very confused in the conversation,” related one mom. “Finally, she looked at my mother and said in astonishment, ‘You mean MEN can be Rabbis, too?’”

“I think my home educated kids will be well prepared to continue working for equal respect, dignity and human rights while pursuing their passions,” stated another.

Some moms believe that by keeping their daughters away from the corrosive effects of popular culture that start to eat away at girls’ self-esteem in their tween years, they are taking an active role in creating feminists.

“The bottom line, though, is I think the only way I have the hope of raising a girl who is confident and comfortable being as smart as she is, is to homeschool her.”

Most of my correspondents, no matter how they identify themselves, seem to be women with their heads screwed tightly on in the right direction. A general theme was that homeschooling was a family decision in which both spouses acknowledged the skills and needs of the other. One correspondent pointed out that conflicted feelings may stem from deeper problems in a marriage:

“When we decided to homeschool these children, we decided together and we decided together that I’d be the one at home with them,” she said of her choice.

And on the subject of careers, not a single homeschooling mom mentioned feeling that she had “given up” on her own career. Many of them work part-time while homeschooling, or are furthering their own education with an eye toward their post-homeschooling careers.

This mom shines with self-confidence that can’t possibly be lost on her children:

“When my son is grown, I’ll reinvent myself once again, on my terms with the support of my husband.”

We are part of the spectrum

One sad aspect of so many smart women not feeling comfortable with identifying themselves as feminists is that they clearly don’t have a sense of themselves as part of the ongoing revision of women’s roles. There is a confusion about what feminism is, whether someone can have conservative social views and still be feminist, and especially how other feminists would view their choices. One self-identified feminist mom worried that women don’t know how they benefit from the work of those who came before them:

“It disturbs me more than I can say when I see young women, who have benefited from the hard, hard work of the women who went before them, dismissively say ‘Oh, I’m not a feminist’.”

As with feminism in any aspect of life, feminism in homeschooling comes down to the lens we look through. In my case, I am not worried. I am a feminist because I am.

I also believe that my children are seeing great role models in the women we spend time with: they are hard-working, talented, smart, and many of them also have gainful employment outside of homeschooling. Yes, many of my sweater-knitting, yogurt-making friends lead lives that would confuse first- and second-wave feminists who placed such a high emphasis on rejecting the womanly arts in favor of paid employment.

But I believe that all of them are perfect specimens when seen through the modern lens of feminism: they have chosen the lives they live with great deliberation, and they live those lives knowing what their choice means for them and their families.

My naive self

As for me, I have to laugh at my pre-homeschooler self who thought that dropping my daughter off at kindergarten would be the day I could get back to my real life: my writing career.

In 2012, my first book was published by Great Potential Press.

Its subject?

Homeschooling.

Originally published in Home Education Magazine, 2012.

Impractical shoes

I found myself standing on one side of a sea of a chai latte river, wondering how I’d gotten myself into this pickle.

I knew I shouldn’t have packed the impractical shoes.

The first pair of really impractical shoes I remember owning was when I was in high school. Every girl was buying Candies boots. They were—if I remember correctly—cowboy-styled shoes with an early-80s update. Mine were blond leather with wood-grain heels.

The heels were very, very high.

Manolo Blahnik
If I could, would I wear ridiculously high-heeled shoes? Oh, yeah, I admit that I’d be happy to do it if I thought it wouldn’t cripple me for life!

Of course, the heels were high enough on a typical girl, but at that point my feet had finally reached a size 5, the smallest of women’s sizes. Before that, I’d shopped in the kids’ department. So 4-inch heels on my feet were not comparable to 4-inch heels on average women’s feet.

Average women were standing on the balls of their feet. I was nearly en pointe.

The first day I wore those boots to school, I stubbornly refused to learn the obvious lesson: I was not cut out to wear impractical shoes. I wore them again, even though I could hardly walk and was in major pain by the end of the day.

Finally, my track coach decided it for me. He announced at our first practice of the spring that all team members were forbidden to wear high heels because of the risk of damage to the tendons in the foot.

That decided it. I went to flats. Soon after I discovered punk and adopted black boots as my shoe of choice, and impractical shoes were in my past.

Like many women who have had babies, my feet have gone through some changes. They’re hardly longer—by length I should be wearing a size 5 and a half at this point—but they are wider and more picky than ever. After a lecture from another man who’d never donned impractical shoes—this time a podiatrist—I resorted to ordering EEE-width shoes on the Internet rather than letting my local shoe seller talk me into their cute, much too narrow latest styles.

But before the podiatrist, and well before the river of chai latte, was my final purchase of impractical shoes. It was at my local shoe seller that I got talked into them. They are cute. The heels are modest, probably an inch and a half, and I have to admit, they make my legs look great. Even though my joints forced me to give up running years ago, those heels did their job and made all the right convex and concave formations appear on my legs. And given how “low” the heels were, I could even walk in them. Even better, my shoe seller explained, they were made by a company that also made sneakers, and the sole was made to be more comfortable and better for the feet.

More comfortable and better for the feet, certainly, than shoes designed by Manolo Blahnik, but torture for my poor stunted, spread out dogs. I bought the shoes, wore them a couple of times, then put them high up in the closet.

Along comes my mystery weekend—so mysterious I didn’t yet know that it would involve a river of chai latte flowing down Van Ness Avenue. For my birthday my husband announced he was taking me away—somewhere—and we would do…something. He said, “bring mostly casual clothes, but one nice outfit.”

Now, men, any woman can tell you, are not all alike. However, there are some truths that apply to most straight men, and one of them is that they don’t understand how delicate the task of donning the right clothing for the right occasion is. Men generally have three levels of clothing: scruffy/play, nice/work, and wedding/funeral. Men’s clothing is designed with this trinity in mind. Men who enjoy dressing well might own khakis for casual, trousers and a button up shirts for work, and a nice suit for other occasions, happy and somber.

My own husband falls a little to the left of that scale. He works in an industry where common work attire seldom rises above a somewhat clean t-shirt, so he has few occasions to worry about whether his dress is suitable for the occasion.

For me, however, what I choose to wear is tied into what I’m doing, who I’m seeing, where I might be going, and what mood I’m in. Certainly, when I had little kids I ended up in jeans and t-shirts almost exclusively, but now that they’re older I spend a bit more time figuring out what “feels” right to wear before I get dressed.

Packing for my mystery chai latte adventure, therefore, sent me into a bit of a tizzy. And in the midst of that tizzy, what did I do but pack those darn impractical shoes. I packed them even after I took them down off the high shelf, stepped into them, and said out loud, “Who am I kidding? I’ll never wear these again.”

And into the suitcase they went.

The mystery weekend turned out to be a lovely, child-free couple of days spent in San Francisco. The nice clothing was for an event at Davies Symphony Hall. And as I dressed for it, I realized I needed to give those impractical shoes another spin. I was not yet thoroughly convinced that I couldn’t wear them.

So there we were, walking down Van Ness Avenue, almost to Davies, when the river appeared before us. It flowed down a side street, turned the corner, and spilled onto Van Ness. It was a gorgeous milky brown, the color of my favorite drink. And thank goodness, it didn’t smell of what it was actually composed of.

It did, however, pose a problem. How to get over to Davies across the flowing river of muck? We ended up having to walk, along with other symphony goers, down the middle of Van Ness, the cars creeping by us in the far left lane, we in the middle, the chai river hogging most of the right.

Perhaps these shoes really do have a sole designed like a sneaker, but let’s be serious here, high heels are not made for comfort. They’re made because they form all those nice convex and concave contours in any woman’s leg. Those of us who think we’re too skinny see flesh pop and curve. Those of us who think we have to much flesh enjoy the definition of our muscles.

The river dwindled to a creek then a stream, and my husband—wearing his sneakers even to the symphony because he’s no fool—could certainly have jumped it. But in my impractical shoes, I had to wait until I could step daintily over the sewage and onto the sidewalk. Because of my uncomfortable shoes, I had to walk even longer than I would have.

I swore that when I got home, I’d send them to the Goodwill. But when I got home, there was their nice, comfy box waiting for them. I put the shoes back in the box and left it on the floor of my closet.

I’ll give them away to someone who will appreciate them, I thought.

There they sat, until one day I sighed, picked up the box, and placed back on that high shelf.

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