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Madame President

When I was in the 7th grade a boy in my class asked everyone what we wanted to be when we grew up. My answer? President of the United States. Now believe me, I do not want that job. Truly ever. But then? I remember thinking I wanted to show that boy I could do anything. I could be anything in the world I set my mind to. (Which, I actually, still believe.)

No one will be surprised to hear he scoffed and then said, "You can't be President. Girls can't be President."

Tonight in the Democratic debate a question was asked of the candidates if they believe African Americans want an African American president so that people will see African Americans differently.

But I wondered why they didn't ask if women wanted the same thing too. As a woman, I am tired of making less money. I am tired of being the "lesser sex." I don't like that I have to be both smart and sexy -- but not too sexy. That I have to be cool, and not emotional when I work, but not angry. Nor maternal. If I interrupt I am unable to contain myself. If I raise my hand, I'm a good team player ("Good girl.") I am tired that more women in marriages are murdered then men. I am tired that girls are still not valued in some countries as much as boys. I am tired of being in a lesser class -- but seen as a ugly feminist if I voice that thought.

I don't know who will earn my vote for President in November. But I do know this -- that I want my daughter to grow up in a world, where not just her skin color, but what's between her legs will not determine what she can be when she grows up.

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YLM said…
HEAR HEAR!

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