On Gratitude

The other day, in between vomiting sessions brought to you by Wilson 3.0, I watched a documentary titled It's a Girl on Netflix. I am not ignorant about world affairs, so I was aware that this problem existed. One of my political science professors in college devoted an entire semester to gender issues in politics. I also spend a fair amount of time reading essays, books, and the odd article or two about a wide variety of topics hot with feminists. I have no idea why this documentary touched me so much at this time, but it did. Perhaps it is because I have a little girl of my own. How grateful I am that I was born in a location and to parents who truly wanted a little girl. I am grateful that my parents taught my brothers and I that we could do achieve anything that we worked for. Gender was never mentioned, because there was no distinction of one gender being better than another. When I needed extra money for summer camps and travels while I was in high school, my dad suggested I mow lawns. My brothers learned how to cook and be self sufficient house keepers.

I am grateful that my little girl was born into our family. I am grateful when we discuss what she might become one day, Big Steve says. "She's good with her hands, I bet she'll be a surgeon." I am grateful that my two nephews (Ladybug's only cousins on my side) let her boss them around shamelessly even though she can't really talk. I am grateful that the Beardocrat talks about the mission that she will one day serve, and the adventures she might one day go on. I am grateful that her older brother adores her. He does not think he is better than her (though he DOES think he is her boss, but that isn't unique, he thinks he is everyone's boss), he loves to make her smile and see her happy. I am grateful that Ladybug's opportunities will be wide, and varied, and of her own choosing, just like mine.