Misogyny exists in every segment of society and takes different forms. This is a lesson I learned witnessing how decisions made by the patriarch of my family had a profound impact on the lives of my sisters.
As a pre-teen, I remember my older sister coming home at a time which would be considered normal for a young adult on a Friday evening and my father not letting her in the house. Literally, the decision my father made, because he somehow felt dishonored, forced my sister into a conjugal situation for which she was not ready and did not choose. A decade later, my younger sisters suffered a similar fate.
My mother was a teacher. My father had a second-grade education. Still, in their life together, his presence overshadowed her. Now and then, his rustic manner embarrassed her in public.
As an adult, there is a guilt that I live with because I wonder if she tolerated his verbal and emotional cruelty to keep the family together.
My father’s ways impacted me. I remember feeling powerless and ashamed for not being able to stand up and advocate for my sisters and my mother. For a long time, as a young man, I was angry at my father. Unwittingly, I lashed out at him trying to make him see the error of his ways.
I remember an instance when I was debating a political issue loudly with one of my older brothers, and my dad, walking in and cussing up a storm, ordered us to shut up. My mother pleaded with us not to respond to the scolding for fear that backtalk would escalate the situation. I ignored her and blurted out in his direction, “Why don’t you want us to discuss these kinds of issues? Do you want us to grow up ignorant like you?” My adolescence was coming to an end.
On another occasion, my father was selling a truck and a non-Spanish speaking prospective buyer offered an amount that was deemed insulting. He proceeded to cuss out the customer and order me to translate. I responded by telling him that it was not necessary, believing the person understood the expletives. He told me I was useless and ordered me to go away leaving him alone with the buyer. Shortly thereafter, he charged inside the house and confronted me, asking why I left. I responded with a rhetorical question, “Are you crazy, you told me to leave?” He had been drinking and as my response festered within, belt in hand he threatened to discipline me. My mother came to my defense but I told her I did not need her help. Before you do it, I told my father, tell me why you feel the action is justified. He said that the manner I spoke to him was disrespectful. I retorted, “If you provide the example of how I’m supposed to behave I’m not sure I did anything wrong.” I added, “If you never give me advice when you are sober, don’t ever offer me guidance about what it is to be a man when you are drunk.” He did not respond and left the room.
For a long time, I would tell myself, I don’t ever want to be like my father. He may have thought that I hated him. He was wrong. I hated whatever drove him to make the decisions in regards to my sisters. I doubt he was familiar with the term misogyny. Still, the decisions he made were misogynistic.
In college, reading Sartre’ essay on existentialism made me realize that human beings are born into societies where gender roles are predefined. I began to understand that my father was not necessarily evil. He was a man who was nurtured in a community that treats women as subservient objects. This is not an excuse for his unacceptable behavior. It is the harsh reality of human history.
Many self-aware males who as children witnessed mothers and sisters suffer the consequences of misogyny live with the fear that one day they may become that which is abhorrent to their being.
That is why it is incumbent upon all human beings to use every life experience, even painful personal truths, to grow. None one is perfect but how spiritually, emotionally and intellectually developed each person is dictates what kind of justice is created in a society.
Stamping out misogyny in all its forms is complex and daunting. The challenge is exacerbated by the fact that it is hard to get everyone on the same page about what misogyny is and how it manifests. For example, the seemingly innocuous practice of raising females to believe that finding their knight in shining armor is the biggest and most important aspiration in their life is problematic. The idea that women have to be affirmed by a man to be successful and happy is a thinly disguised form of misogyny. Yet, it is commonly accepted in households and perpetuated via social, broadcast and print media.
Throughout history, there have been movements that have addressed certain aspects of misogyny; in the early 1900s, the suffrage movement, the 1960s feminist movement, and today the #MeToo and #TimesUp movements. In their own right, each has achieved the desired goal. Each is an example of how institutionalized norms that we are born into can be changed. But it is a very slow process.
There is no doubt that there is a long way to go. Still, the fact that more women are standing up and are refusing to be victims is a positive. But like born-again Christians, if humanity is to be saved from the scourge of misogyny, all people must concede that we are sinners; that, misogyny is deeply ingrained in our DNA, from popular culture to public policy.
Before he died, my father saw the light. He acknowledged his mistakes and apologized to my mother for all the hardship he put the family through.
Those of us who remain alive shouldn’t wait until we are on our deathbed to take off our blinders and see that misogyny may exist in every word, every step, and every sign of life we give.*
