To the dear friends who wrote and inquired about our safety - we are as safe as can be, and not in the area the rockets are currently targeting. Not that it makes much difference: Israel is a small place, and I don't believe there is a single person here who can feel detached from the ongoing war.
Still, we are trying to keep life as normal as possible, and I've even had time to do some reading lately. Usually I either read non-fiction (books about plant medicine, nutrition, child education) or classical fiction, mostly Russian. But this time I stumbled upon a detective by Susan Isaacs, called Long Time No See, and read a dialogue between two middle-aged women which I felt could be entertaining to some of you (I did use some slight editing):
"I don't understand all these women you're speaking to. What do they do? They're all thirty-five, forty tops. Whatever happened to jobs? Remember jobs, Judith? Remember all those husbands in 1972, yours and mine included, who said 'My wife isn't going to work,' and how we stood up to them and that idiot mentality. So what are all these women doing home?"
"What are you talking about?" I asked. "They're raising their children."
"I see. And may I inquire precisely why we went through a revolution in women's rights, why we bothered to have our conscience raised? So our daughters could sit on a bench in a playground and talk about whether Pampers or Huggies hold poopy better. That's how they talk: poopy and peepee. Four years of higher education, graduate school - a whole world of possibility open to them - and they elect to sit on a park bench and talk poopy."
"We fought so our daughters could choose - "
"We fought so our daughters would be allowed to do the work for which they were suited. Now what happens? They go to law school, medical school, business school and become lawyers or doctors or number crunchers for how long? Three or four years. But the minute they see they're just another cruncher or whatever, that they're not having fun, whatever that means, that they're flying to Milwakee with their knees squished and will never get near the corporate jet, what do they do? They up and quit."
"Who's supposed to raise their children?" I inquired. "An illegal immigrant who doesn't speak English, who they underpay and overwork?.. I raised my kids, before I even finished my dissertation. And if you can remember that far back, you were freelancing, not working full-time."
"But we didn't have a path to follow. They do. Because we cleared it."
"Maybe they don't like that path."
"Maybe in a few years men will be saying, 'Hey, how come they're letting all these women into law school and medical school and into the hot jobs on Wall Street when all they do is work three years and quit? That's not fair. Why can't those places go to men who will stay the course? And they'll be right."
I think it's a very illustrative piece about the older generation, which only saw the promises of feminism, vs. the younger generation, their children, which lived with its price. You can give women "opportunities", but - on a general level - many, many women are best suited for a job of being a wife and mother. So many that if given a true choice, the whole feminist doctrine will fall to pieces.