Why We Don’t Want Men to Vote be President
Alice Duer-Miller, 1915
- Because man's place is in the army.
- Because no really manly man wants to settle any question otherwise than by fighting about it.
- Because if men should adopt peaceable methods women will no longer look up to them.
- Because men will lose their charm if they step out of their natural sphere and interest themselves in other matters than feats of arms, uniforms, and drums.
- Because men are too emotional to
votebe president. Their conduct at baseball games and political conventions shows this, while their innate tendency to appeal to force renders them unfit for government.
At parties (yes, when everyone’s had one or two), the question always comes up—where do you stand on having a black president? The Conservatives and Liberals duke it out between themselves, the arguments becoming more and more urgent, more and more dramatic, as more and more beer is consumed. My husband is a Liberal, and therefore the fore-runner for Ass with the Loudest Mouth at parties here in the Heartland of Conservatism.
Sooner or later, the quiet ones gather around me. We smile and nod and roll our eyes. There is strength in numbers: the non-political, the live-and-let-live, the ones who don’t gas up their vocal chords with gallons of beer… How about those Phillies? Haha… yeah, I think they have a real chance, this year…
Oddly enough, the wives rather avoid me. Perhaps because though they don’t share their mates’ passion for politics, they feel rallying around me would be a betrayal, while their husbands battle it out in the bonfire arena with mine. They roll their eyes, too. Some of them look angry, as if they’d like to drag their spouses away… But the look of fondness is predominant as their glittering eyes follow their husbands’ sodden logic, explaining Why This Country’s Going to Shit. Immigration, taxation, and yes—voting in a black president. Oddly enough, I think the issue is more voting in a Democrat during a time of “war,” but it’s become a more interesting tirade for Conservatives to point out that he’s also the first Black president…
No, they’re not racist. But they honestly believe that the only reason he got the job was that people were voting for his skin-color to win. Had nothing to do with economic depression, that there’s been a Republican in office for 8 years who pretty much ran us into a sink-hole, or that most of us are heartily sick of looking like Rednecks to the rest of the world, and being made a laughingstock. Maybe we wanted an educated man, for a change, one who didn’t come from a long line of Politicians and corrupt businessmen…
But for whatever reason, it’s the Leftover Husbands (and the Single Guys, and the Wife Stayed Home Husbands) who circle around me in sympathy at parties as they watch my husband don his metaphorical lampshade, climb up on his beer-damp soapbox, and provide the dubious Voice of Reason on an issue that’s been beaten to death with a soggy noodle at every party since the election. Why, you might ask, am I surrounded by the Leftovers rather than the other wives?
Curiosity. “What’s it like to be his wife? Does he drive you crazy? Do you agree with him?” And sympathy… I’m so quiet… how do I feel about the issue? Am I proud to have a Black president…?
Skip back a few months to the election. Ol’ Magpie glued to the TV set, watching as each state rolls in… high-fiving, hugging her kids, weeping when the final results are announced… For the first time in my entire life, I’m proud of
Skip forward again, to the party. I smile an enigmatic smile and say, “A Black man is president, yes. I’m very glad Obama won the election, because I agree he was the best candidate. And I’m very glad that the man I felt was the best candidate was voted in despite his skin-color. It makes me proud.
“But he’s still a man.”
Wait—what? We’re confused… Are you or are you not happy to have a Black president?
GOD yes… Hell, the Blacks of this nation have been held voiceless long enough. Senators and Governors are all well and good, but it’s time and time enough to break through the barriers and admit that at least one of them is suitable for the highest Office in our grand nation. At least ONE of them is as good as, say, a Bush or a Clinton. Do I think that his being Black makes him more likely to screw up, to sympathize with the “wrong” people, to make poor decisions based on a different upbringing…? Nope. What I see, what I still see, is that a man is president. He is neither more nor less likely to screw up than any other man who’s held office. There is no difference, to me, in judging his performance in office… He’s just a man, like any other President since the dawn of our nation…
I am an American, and I feel a great pride that
But RIDDLE ME THIS, BOYS. I am neither a man, nor Black. How am I to identify? How am I to feel a personal sense of vindication?
I wept when they announced the results—not because we had a Black president—but because I could empathize with the rejoicing, the liberation, the sense of victory that Blacks must (and did) feel at that moment. I was one with them, but for me, it’s a hollow victory.
To the confused men in the football jerseys, holding their plastic cups in slack hands and staring at me as if I were an alien, I elaborate. “The fifteenth amendment, declaring that all men have the right to vote, regardless of race, creed or color, was passed in 1865. The nineteenth amendment, declaring that women had as much right to choose their governance as men, was passed in 1920.
“Naturally, it’s only fitting that—since they were acknowledged as human beings in our country years before women were—a black won the Presidency first. I think Obama’s a great guy, but he has exactly the same potential as every other politician before him, every other man before him: neither good, nor evil, just a man.
“Ask me again, when a woman holds that office. If we live that long…”
At first, they think I’m joking. A few awkward chuckles, quickly smothered by a gulp of beer so they can look away. Then the foot-shuffling begins… and suddenly they find my husband’s tirades interesting and hilarious. Eyes evade mine… they drift away… “How ‘bout those Phillies?”
I don't deny that Blacks have had a harder battle than women. I don't deny that the angle of discrimination against Blacks has been more violent, more oppressive, than that against women. But the battle was fought, none-the-less, because both were viewed as less than fit human beings. Both were judged as incompetent to make their own decisions, to hold the right to a Voice.
Why is it wrong of me to qualify my elation at having a Black president? Why does it make everyone so uncomfortable that I long for a president that represents me, half of our great nation? Women are considered a minority, despite our numbers. Why? Because our voice is small…
Is it my opinion that Hillary Clinton should be president right now? I dunno… she was a strong candidate, a suitable leader. A good person? Eh… I don’t know that, either. Obama is certainly more likeable as a human being: that boyish grin, the mild manners, the sweetness of having two little girls to father. Nurturing. Hillary was torpedoed (or torpedoed herself) by displaying too much aggression, a momentary lapse of judgment, a ruthlessness more suitable (and excusable) in male candidates. In short, she was unfeminine and unladylike. The jokes during
I have heard so many time—mainly in Conservative circles, but that is only because I was raised in Conservative circles—that women are unfit for the Presidency because they’re incapable of the aggression and ruthlessness necessary to lead the wealthiest and most powerful nation in the world. And of course, if a woman displays these qualities so highly prized in men, she’s no longer a woman, no longer likable. She thinks she’s a man…
When trolling around for the dates for this blog, I found a quote by Alice Duer-Miller (sited at the beginning of this article): a satirical response to the presiding sentiment of the era surrounding Women’s Sufferage. She turned about all the arguments regarding why women should not be given the right to vote and applied them sarcastically to men. They were fighting against the pre-conceived notion that most women didn’t really want to vote and were probably ill-qualified to exercise that right, even if they had it. The notion that government was a man’s past-time and that, somehow, a woman who had an interest in it was somehow no longer womanly… A woman who wanted her voice heard was most likely jealous of men, and wanted to be a man, herself…
When I found that quote, I was shocked by how little things have changed.
Men have spent generations and generations, building an entire culture around male-supremacy, convincing even the women that women are unsuited to govern themselves and should not be given power over a nation of men. We laugh at the jokes. We view female candidates as somehow lacking… either they’re too aggressive or too wishy-washy (okay, or too mentally unstable, considering our most recent candidate for Vice President). We judge them, because they’re willing to give up raising their children to raise a nation. We judge them, because they delude themselves that they could juggle femininity with capability. We judge them for conforming to our conception of the perfect politician, while requiring them to conform.
We judge ourselves, and have found ourselves lacking.
It’s time that we as women accept that we are just as capable as men. That we don’t have to be men, to be capable. That as human beings we are neither more nor less qualified to have an opinion than men, or to be right.
As for the people who think I’m joking, or a bra-burner, or that my statements are in poor taste and non-sympathetic to blacks…
Uhura in 2016. I think that says it all…
Yeah... I'm more Liberal than my husband. Now… how ‘bout those Phillies?
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