Tag: Feminism

A Little Girl Power Goes a Long Way

*This post contains very minor spoilers for Captain Marvel, like barely at all, but just a head’s up if you haven’t had the chance to see it yet.

As I stood in line to get my picture taken with the Dora Milaje at Disney’s California Adventure this weekend, my mum and I both got a little choked up. These women, two “cast members” hired to pose for photos with Disney guests, took their time with some of those in line – the ones who needed it. A group of women celebrating a bachelorette weekend walked by, and one of the actresses gruffly called out the bride’s name and stalked after them to give them a hard time. She returned, unapologetic for the extended wait for our short line, explaining tersely “We know them. They were here earlier. We never forget a name.” Next up was an overweight, middle-aged, black man wearing a “Straight Outta Wakanda” shirt. He was clearly excited to get his photo with them, but was shy and a little intimidated by them. Heck, we were all intimidated by them. They were incredibly respectful to him, treating him like a Wakandan warrior, showing him how to pose so his shirt would still show in the picture. He left, head held high.

Ahead of us was a little girl. For her, they knelt down to be at her level. They took the time to talk with her. From the snippets we could hear, they were telling her that she was a warrior, strong and brave. She looked nervous and very serious, taking in every word. They told her to repeat after them, “I am strong. I am brave.” We couldn’t hear the rest. She repeated so quietly, and the moment wasn’t for the crowd anyway, it was just for her. For this little girl. This one little girl who stood up tall and strong afterward for the photo, flanked by these beautiful black women who had poured into her, built her up. Mum and I were both teary-eyed by the end of her time. My moment with them was brief and professional. I did not want to take up too long, just posed and thanked them for the time they spend with that little girl. They nodded, then moved on to the next, never breaking character.

It would have been such a simple thing to pose, and move on, but Disney and these actresses took their role as role models seriously and turned a tourist photo-op into small, powerful moments of influence.

Today, mum and I finally got a chance to sneak away and see Captain Marvel. Like Wonder Woman and Black Panther before it, there were moments that gave me goosebumps and a time or two where I held back a couple tears. One such moment was Maria Rambeau telling Carol Danvers she was already amazing, even before she got her powers, the two powerful women serving as examples for the young Monica Rambeau, poised to become a superhero herself one day. There’s a moment like this between Jessica Drew and Carol Danvers in the latest iteration of the Captain Marvel comic book, one of encouragement and empowerment between best friends.

I hope I can find small moments in my days and weeks to help the people in my life feel stronger, braver, better. As Christians, we are told to “encourage one another and build one another up” (1 Thessalonians 5:11). And as a woman, I see how impactful even a minute or two can be in the life of someone who might not hear these words very often.

It may seem silly, to be inspired by fictional superheroes, but I’m an English major librarian who lives in the realm of books and stories, so what did you expect? I know the little incel boys have the opposite reaction to these moments, but perhaps that’s what makes them all the more powerful. I am a woman, not a man, and my students are children – vulnerable, often voiceless, representing many races and backgrounds. I may not have super powers, but I do have the gift of moments with them. May I use them wisely. Because, as we all know, with great power comes great responsibility. May I pass on the inspiration that was given to me to be who God made us to be.

Independence Day: a Treatise on Being Happily Single

I am happily single. I wasn’t always quite so happy about my unchanging relationship status, but I’ve grown into it and it fits me comfortably like my favorite pair of old jeans. And, oddly, the more my contentment has grown recently, the more I struggle to write about it.

This weekend at my writer’s group (who never let me get away with any excuses) I realized that my current joy in my single status makes me feel almost unqualified to write about singleness. Many of the men and women I talk to who are my age or younger and still single are struggling with it immensely; for some, this is the battle of their lives. And I’ve been there. I lived there for quite some time. But, by the grace of God, I’m not there anymore.

Yes, I still get pangs every once in awhile while watching a romcom or at a friend’s wedding, that lingering desire to be desired, to have a partner, to be loved like that. But, more frequently of late, I find myself having thoughts of gratefulness to God that I’m not married. And, in counseling, I’ve noticed that this isn’t something many single people who’d rather not be single like to hear.

I am their worst nightmare. They don’t want God to grow them into contentment in their singleness, they want God to bring them a spouse. They don’t want me to tell them that there is a possibility they’ll never marry, but it’s okay because God still has plans in that for their good and his glory. They want to hear tales of people who met the man or woman of their dreams the minute they “stopped looking,” about the friend of a friend who married at 40, or of the newest dating app that’s somehow better than the last 5 they tried. They yearn for promises that God will bring them the desire of their heart instead of the truth that they may need to ask God for new desires.

Many a pastor, singles group leader, or self-help guru sees me as their worst nightmare as well. You see, I do not believe the pinnacle of Christian life is to be a wife or husband, a mother or a father. I believe these are incredibly good things to be, gifts and examples of Christ in our world. But I also believe, like the apostle Paul (1 Corinthians 7), that singleness is a gift as well, and that single people are a blessing to the world and the church in unique valuable ways.

Parents of still-single adult children can join in the chorus against contentment in singleness too. The cry of “when am I going to have grandchildren?” or “if you just lost some weight, I’m sure you’d find a man!” has been heard by singles the world over. They do not always want their children to find deep joy and contentment in this state, because they see it as a lesser existence. They sometimes purposefully add to the discontentment of their children in the hopes it will spur them on to marriage. The idea that marriage may actually not be best for them isn’t an option.

Yet here I am, happily deleting e-mails from dating apps trying to woo me back after a couple years’ hiatus. I’ve embraced the idea that singleness is the life God has planned for me, and have even told him in prayer that if he does want me to marry someday, he’s going to have to bring the man to my doorstep and make it pretty darn obvious, because at this time it’s not even on my radar.

I’ve grieved not having a husband, not having children. I’ve gone through years of intense yearning for things I could not have. I’ve wept with friends, counselors, and God over this. I’ve torn myself down for not being good enough for a spouse, and fed other lies like this. I’ve averted my eyes at friends’ weddings as their fathers walked them down the aisle or danced with them, knowing I would never have that moment. I’ve silently and internally grieved the loss of potential motherhood.

So for my friends and counselees who are in the midst of this grief and pain, I understand. I’ve been there. For a couple decades even. The pain and loss are real, and it is good to recognize it. But, for those of you who don’t end up with the romcom ending, there is such joy to be found in embracing the permanently single life. There is confidence in loving your independence and letting the parents, pastors, and friends who are not content with you being single know that this is what God has for you and it is good.

When Moses went up to Mount Sinai for God to rewrite the 10 Commandments and renew his covenant with Israel, the Lord spoke to Moses about himself. “The Lord passed before him and proclaimed, ‘The Lord, the Lord, a God merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness’” (Exodus 34:6). This is the reality of who our God is. Our Lord is merciful and gracious, so the gift of singleness in our lives, whether temporary or permanent, is part of his mercy and grace toward us. He is slow to anger – there is no punishment in our singleness. He is abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness meaning he is the love of our lives and we are the love of his.

Married readers, ask yourself if you are helping your single friends find contentment or are you adding to their pain? Single readers, I pray you will find contentment in your independence no matter how long it lasts. I know the heartbreak that can come with it, but I also know that deep joy and peace are possible. 

The Childless Woman

My high school math teacher passed away this Saturday night. She had been ill for quite some time, so we knew it was coming, and knew it would be a relief for her to be free of her suffering. Yet I’m still sad. She was an influential woman in my life, kind and intelligent. She was one of my mom’s close friends. Married for ages, she and her husband never had children. But even though she may never have been a mother, she certainly mothered many teenagers through the tough stages of high school in her decades as a teacher.

As a woman close to 40 who will not have my own children, I looked to her, and others like her, as an example of someone who led a valuable and meaningful life outside of motherhood.

When I got the text from my mom that she had died, a tweet from earlier this week came to my mind yet again. On 5/17/18, a young woman named Candace Owens who is a spokesperson for a pro-Trump organization tweeted:


When people responded negatively to this, she doubled down, making a video in which she defended her stance including the following: it’s “just conversation,” “everyone is so triggered,” “just calm down,” perhaps “women who don’t have children turn into children themselves,” and telling how a friend at that lunch “suggested that women who never marry, don’t adopt and/or have children of their own become bitter over time.”

While I don’t usually pay attention to anything this particular personality says because she is constantly stirring up controversy and believes many things I find horrific, this tweet kept popping up in my feed and in my mind.

I’m not sure people realize how frequently women are judged for being childless into adulthood. Miss Owens isn’t the first person to say things like this, nor will she be the last. But lumping all perpetually single and childless women together, and often adding in married women without children, is just another way of dehumanizing us. Instead of seeing us as individuals with different reasons for why we live life the way we do, it’s easier to throw us all together and turn us into one giant bitter, unreasonable, pathetic, and possibly insane group.

I loved Sarah Silverman’s response:


If a woman disagrees with certain political viewpoints, or even religious ones, it’s easy to say “well she doesn’t have kids, so she can’t understand this” or “she’s just a bitter old maid” or “those liberal feminists are just crazy.” As if there aren’t mothers with multiple children who don’t understand politics, or bitter wives, or married moms who seem insane.

When I think of the women in my life who were/are single throughout adulthood, or who did not/could not have children my mind is filled with beautiful faces and varied personalities. Yes, some of my single friends are bitter. But so are some of my married ones. Yes, some of my childless friends believe some things I think are a bit nuts, but so do a lot of the moms I know. To suggest that women who do not have children are somehow more prone to insanity is such a vile stereotype to perpetuate.

My math teacher never had kids. I never asked her why not, that was her business, not mine. She did have Lupus, so perhaps she was told by doctors not to have children. Or perhaps she and her husband were perfectly happy with their dogs and summer home by the beach. What I do know is that she cared about me when I was a depressed 15 year old who hated math. She let me come to her classroom after school and patiently went over homework with me, answering all of my stupid questions. She was one of the few of my mom’s friends from work who made it a point to stay friends with her after my father passed away. She and her husband came over to our house a few times for the holidays and brought us homemade quilted Christmas ornaments that still grace our tree. Politically, we didn’t think the same way as I am much more liberal than she was, but she was loving and never pushy with her ideas.

As a woman who looks ahead at a childless future, I count myself so blessed to have many incredible examples of women who are walking with me in this lifestyle. Women who are strong, kind, fierce, intelligent, and compassionate. Women who disprove the tweet above with every breath they take. I strive to be like them, to be like my teacher was.

Earlier this year, I had a couple different friends tell me I should read the children’s book “Miss Rumphius.” Author and illustrator Barbara Cooney is a favorite of mine, so I’m not sure how I missed this award winning book. It’s the first time I’ve read a children’s book with a character like this in it, a single childless woman who is depicted as adventurous and brave, kind and beautiful. I wonder what Candace Owens would make of her? I want to be like Miss Rumphius when I grow up. I am determined to be the librarian, the adventurer, and the auntie that she is. In fact, we all should be more like her.

Instead of lumping all single and/or childless women together into a badly stereotyped box, let’s see each one as a unique individual with varied life circumstances. And let’s all try to be a bit more like Miss Rumphius, and like my math teacher, with the goal of doing “something to make the world more beautiful.”