My mother reared me to be a lady – or at least, she attempted to.
(And yes, one says “reared” when talking about children; “raise” is what you do with livestock. As the mother of a teenaged boy, I am willing to concede that the distinction between these processes blurs on occasion.)
My mother taught me that being a lady means exercising self-control in public, regardless of how boorish others’ conduct may be. Irrespective of her thoughts and feelings, a lady controls her actions.
Thus, when a passive-aggressive neighbor persists in encouraging her dog to mistake your front lawn for a bathroom early each morning despite one’s many polite, yet firm requests, a lady does not permit herself to snap and stand on her front porch screaming obscenities.
A lady most certainly does not await this unwelcome dawn patrol, sitting on that porch in the predawn darkness, plucking dead leaves from the rose begonia with one hand while holding a .22 pistol in the other. (A lady is considerate, and knows that larger-caliber weaponry is appropriate only when others are unlikely to be sleeping).
Nor does she wait until they are on her property, then arise with speed and dignity, discharge her weapon into the ground ten feet from the pair, and comment, “Oh, dear – I missed my target. Now I have to search for my bullet. I just hate having to pick up things that don’t belong on my lawn, don’t you?”
No matter how much pleasure she might obtain doing so (and it is considerable), a lady respects the rule of law, which tends to constrain speech acts of this nature.
My mother taught me that a lady uses her intelligence and creativity to solve problems – and, occasionally, social pressure. And so, one may indeed arise before dawn and sit on the glider beside the rose begonia (so delicate, yet such a hardy little thing). And when, as the still dampness of the morning air is pierced by birdsong and she hears approach the familiar footfall and the whuffa-whuffa respiration of the canine co-conspirator, one can rise with grace and dignity and, with one’s digital camera, photograph the miscreants. One then posts the photographs, appropriately tagged, on Facebook, encouraging her 400-something friends to share this little slice of life with their friends – nay, even with the friends of her friends.
Conservative women seem to share a misconception that being a lady requires being a chump, who passively sits, hands neatly folded, while she or some other conservative woman is viciously attacked.
I am writing officially declare this misconception null and void and NONSENSE.
While vengeance is the Lord’s obligation, defense of the innocent is ours, and an essential part of a good defense is a good offense. It’s making part of a very public record the identities of those who attack others unfairly.
When a liberal woman is unjustly attacked, the liberal sisterhood rise up mightily behind her, and wor unto him who has offended. And shame on us conservative women, when we fail to do likewise. I don’t blame our liberal friends for being loyal to those who share their beliefs; I blame us for having allowed conservative women who spoke truth to power to twist alone in the wind.
We have plenty of excuses. We have jobs – or, God help us, we’re looking for work in this terrible economy. We have families to tend to. Or we’re just too damned tired.
I understand. Truly, I do. But honey, you just sit yourself down, and pour yourself a couple of ounces of Maker’s Mark or iced tea or whatever liquid recharges your battery, and you listen to me. (Put your feet up, now, and put that pillow in the small of your back.)
First, let’s raise a glass – plastic or Waterford will do equally well – to some of great ladies who took strong conservative positions, and who didn’t take any guff. Here’s to the Iron Lady, Baroness Margaret Thatcher. To Mother Teresa, who leapt over bureaucratic obstacles the way Superman leapt over tall buildings. To Clare Boothe Luce. To Nikki Haley and to Michelle Bachman and to Sarah Palin. And now, please lift your to one of the great ladies you know personally, who stands up for her principles and who has stood by you. (You call her and tell her “thank you,” too, when you’re done reading my column: it’ll do you both good.)
Let us vow that, from now on, we will draw from these and other great conservative women inspiration. From now on, let us see to it that every creator and purveyor of a vicious, personal attacks on our conservative sisters is flooded with this message: “Is that the mouth you kiss your mama with? Shame on you!”
In addition to letting the offender know of our disapproval – politely – we must voice our opinion to his employer, his colleagues, and, if he’s in print, broadcast, or online media, to his sponsors and people who work for the sponsors and their relatives. If he belongs to a golf club, they should know. If he sponsors a charity, let them know. (But leave his family alone. This is professional, not personal: it’s one of the differences between Us and Them.)
Take, for example, Joe McGinniss’s stunningly unsubstantiated booklike product focusing on Sarah Palin. McGuinness, you may remember, rented a home next to Palins’ in Alaska. This book is published by Crown Publishers. If you go to LinkedIn, under Companies (7th from the left), type in “Random House” and you’ll find lots of people you can contact. Here’s Crown’s Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/CrownPublishing, where you can leave a message.. And here’s a link to their street address and phone number: http://crownpublishing.com/crown-publishing-contact-information/
If you live in New York, you might consider stopping by and politely expressing your disapproval, neatly written to one of their second-tier executives (they’re more likely to respond) on your best stationery.
It is essential, however, to remember you are a lady. You never stoop to personal attack. You also support free speech. But supporting others’ free speech doesn’t require you to be passive or silent.
The Iron Lady didn’t stand for any nonsense. Neither should you.
Laurie Morrow, Ph.D., is communications and nonprofit development expert who lives in Vermont with her husband and son.
