One Day You Will Be "Radical"

Yesterday someone posted on Facebook a photo with a quote by Gloria Steinem: “Women grow radical with age. One day an army of gray-haired women may quietly take over the earth.” Reading it I suddenly realized that when it comes to gray hair a rose is never just a rose, and perhaps my choice of not dying my hair has subversive undertones.

For as long as I can remember my mother had beautiful gray hair, she kept it short and let it dry in the sun. For a nurse, it was a practical, no-nonsense hair style, and it suited her personality. In my eyes my mother’s gray hair was a symbol of her wisdom and knowledge.

I was convinced that one day I would look just like her, but when my daughter detected some gray in my hair she asked me to dye it. I refused, but she argued that I was too young to be old.  I told myself that it was important to make my daughter proud and postponed my plan to grow old gracefully.

But, from experience, trying to please our loved ones hardly ever works. I knew the truth behind my gray roots, and resented the effort of hiding it from the rest of the world. Whenever I saw gray haired women I found myself complimenting them on their hair, and explaining why mine was dark. Of course I sounded insincere and silly.

Perhaps a psychologist could have called my predicament a cognitive dissonance, but it simply translates to not being true to myself. So one day I stopped dying my hair. My daughter was displeased at first, but pretty soon she wrote to tell me that gray hair has made a comeback. I like to think it was her way of saying that she accepted my choice.

Back to Gloria Steinem’s quote: hair color is  a matter of personal choice, but I agree that  women grow radical with age. Since young women face enough challenges juggling family and career and most of them have no spare time for activism, it is up to us, their mothers, to come to the rescue again and do it for them.

I noticed that many young women attended the different protest marches on January 21st. They made a special effort and came to show their discontent. However, usually it is the older women who dedicate their life to the cause and become active in different social and political movements.

In Women Wage Peace, for example, the age range of most of its hard core activists is from late 40s to late 60s. While in many other aspects of life women that age start to become less relevant, here they can shine and make a real difference. Many of us are willing to dedicate all our time and effort to promote peace in our region, and I believe that we have the wisdom,knowledge and determination to bring a change.

Young women have something to look forward to, Gloria Steinem makes growing older seem almost fun. Hopefully it won't take long before they join us in taking over the earth and making it a better place.

The essay first appeared in the Times Of Israel

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/one-day-you-will-be-radical/

For Father’s Day: The Father As A Teacher

Growing up in Israel in the late 1950s I hardly have any childhood memories of my father. He was always away at work. My mother and my older brother were in charge of my upbringing. I got to know my father only as an adult. Children books and magazines, from that time, tell a similar story to mine. The father was always absent, either physically at work, or emotionally. Pictures of the father show him quite withdrawn, sitting behind a newspaper which separates him from the rest of his family.

It seems that fathers in the 1950s were spoilt by their family, which demanded nothing of them but gave them a lot of respect. But already in the 1980s things were different, my husband was an involved father, as the following Father’s Day story indicates.

It all started with a project: a dollhouse made out of wooden bookcase, which my daughters built together with their father. They had labored on it for weeks, and then when the dollhouse was finally done it was time to furnish it.

My husband asked the girls to make a list of the essential items they needed in order to furnish the different rooms of the house. Their wish list was very long: there were so many things that they just couldn't do without.

Then he said: “This is an excellent list, and we will be happy to split the cost of the furniture that you have chosen.” He announced it as though he was handing out a big  award, which in a way he was. It was just that they were caught off guard, our daughters were certain that we would be paying for everything.

I was as surprised as the girls: my husband had not revealed his plan, he was probably worried that I would object. Indeed, although I said nothing and went along, I secretly felt that at the age of 7 and 8 they were too young to have their wings clipped in such a way. They were thrilled about the finished dollhouse and were looking forward to the endless possibilities of interior design.

It is not that he wasn't willing to spend the money, quite the contrary, like the rest of us he was anxious to see the dollhouse come to life. In retrospect I understand that this was a brilliant fiscal move. He seized an opportune  moment to teach our daughters the meaning of money -- value, making choices, taking responsibility, accountability and even patience.

The girls were not even resentful, as rational creatures they just went ahead, made the calculation of how much money they were willing to spend, and came up with a much shorter list of the most important items.

As a business professor, and a father, he wanted to demonstrate to his daughters the concept of an  "interested party." In our case it meant that if they wanted something, they had to take action. It was also an enabling lesson, the girls saved money to buy new furniture, and made some decorations themselves. The dollhouse became more meaningful and valuable because we, the parents, refrained from buying all the furniture for them at once.

My husband believed that children should learn early about money so that they could grow up to be responsible adults. But he was able to teach them such a lesson only because he was close to his daughters, and worked together with them. It is true that my own father had a much easier life at home, but I feel that since he was absent, he missed out a lot.

Happy Father's Day!

 The essay appeared in the Times of Israel 

http://blogs.timesofisrael.com/for-fathers-day-the-father-as-a-teacher/