2020 Democratic primaries have been a learning moment for me. A few months before the Super Tuesday, a deep sense of responsibility towards the state of our democracy awakened in me. I changed my voting affiliation from Independent to Democratic, I wanted to make sure my participation in the primaries is counted. I poured through each of the prospective candidates. I followed their debates, I read up on their positions and proposals. On a day of clarity, I decided Warren was my choice. She was not my just no-Trump-donkey. Her proposals for reducing financial, educational disparities in the country made sense to me. In my life the subsidized education which I received, made college within my reach. I could achieve both financial and social mobility because of the education I received. And I make sure I pay me dues to the society that gave me an opportunity to make my life self-reliant.
She had detailed plans, while others had hand waving talks. She had set up an entire CFPB, took on the piranhas of Wall Street and created a successful program for protecting the economically challenged. Her success was evident in the speed at which her work was defanged. So, she had plans and she had proven record that she can execute plans to perfection. For the first time in my life I decided to canvas. I walked from door to door giving out pamphlets and sometimes talking why she inspired me. I could have just sat at home and voted for a No-Trump-Donkey, but she made me into Yes-Warren. For the first time I felt constructive. I was fighting for my kids’ future.
After the primaries she had to suspend her run. People just wanted an electable candidate, a No-Trump to win. Sweeping all her achievements into insignificance at the alter of electability. This is willful blindness to female achievements. And why is it dangerous? I will tell you another story…
I was 19 years old when I heard about the existence of a woman who has the same first name as me and who was the first female electrical engineer in India. Over the years I dug through bits and pieces of information to stitch together her story. She was the contemporary of my great-grand-mother and related to her. When she was widowed early in life, her family encouraged her to pursue education and support herself and her child. I would assume that the extended family were aware of her tribulations in life. My Grandfather, would have heard from his wife about the lady. My Grandfather as a teenager was saved from death due to encephalitis by the timely and brave actions taken by a female doctor. He was so grateful he named his first-born daughter – my mother – after the doctor. In his professional life he had reported to female government officers of higher rank than him. Heck, he got to experience the life of a young democracy finding its feet under the leadership of a female Prime Minister. And yet he never encouraged his four daughters to pursue a life of education for self-reliance. He set them up to be reliant on the men he found for them to be married to.
A few months after my mother was married to my father, my Great Grandmother declared her grand son-in-law to be a good guy because he did not hit my mother. And yet my memories (I was probably 12 or 13 years old) of my mother were of her wailing in frustration at the lack of opportunity to make changes to her life are cemented to my heart. I saw her feel trapped with no hope. And as a teenager I learned lesson from watching her- to keep my existence safely in my hands. I learned very young watching the women in my family, extending my hand in need will only get spit on and yet they are not bad people.
Maybe because we had no option, my sister, my cousins and myself turned into these bad-ass women. We were obstinate, persistent non-conforming women, each in our own ways. Each of us built our confidence from within, despite what were told. While our Fathers did not stand in our way, neither did I see them puff with pride when we kicked ass.
My own father who was very proud to give me -a girl-the same opportunities a boy would get, became opposed to my “success” to the point where he regretted his parenting. To him, I grew wings and flew out of his control. He never spoke about me to his family. And to think I carried his legacy forward, took care of his needs since the day I could earn, made sure his wife is cared for with dignity after he died. A son would have been treated differently than me.
This willful blindness of female achievement and failure to acknowledge their contribution led generations of women to never experiencing the fullness of their abilities. They just existed in society. Women like me were stealthily coached by our mothers in lessons of self-reliance and freedom. But that was born out of their suffering. I was told stories of my Grandmother’s brother-in-law who died young and if he had lived, he would have become a Supreme Court Judge. But never was the woman spoken about who had achieved to become the first female electrical engineer, and who had a career. A female doctor who saved my Grandfather, was mentioned only in terms of my Grandfather being saved, not as an inspiration to other women. The result is that in each generation women have had to re-discover their potential. Each woman had to become a trail blazer, because the previous trails have been overgrown by the willful blindness to celebrate their achievements and follow their footsteps.
Opportunities to learn skills for self-reliance are held back from the women. They were kept in ignorance of financial dealings in family, taking away the feeling of financial security. I wonder sometimes what if the roles were reversed? Let me give you an example of a very sexist, tables turned, hypothetical scenario. For more than 20 years of married life I had the responsibility of cooking and feeding my family. As a family we eat South Indian vegetarian style of food. Let’s say this style of food is not available outside home. If a satellite were t fall on my head tomorrow and I am out of service, will my family die of hunger? What if they are deprived of any other source of food and given dog food? I would hope that my Father-in-Law would have taught my husband enough cooking skills to fend for himself and his children.