Oh dear. I meant to mention this earlier, and it slipped my Teflon mind: I met a reader of this blog at church last Sunday. A lady who was visiting with one of our families introduced herself, and said she was a reader. She also mentioned that her daughter also read it—in Ankara, Turkey. Nice to meet you, Reader, and I hope I wasn’t too distant and avoidant with you.
Man, do I love saying “I told you so.” I am, at bottom (and at top), a petty and vindictive sort, as you’ve doubtless gathered by now.
Via Townhall.com, there’s this article from The London Daily Mail, in which Rebecca Walker (no relation) tells the story of her unhappy relationship with her mother, feminist author Alice Walker (also no relation. To me. Obviously a relation to her daughter). She tells of being raised by a woman who considered her a bother, a burden, and an interruption in her important work.
You see, my mum taught me that children enslave women. I grew up believing that children are millstones around your neck, and the idea that motherhood can make you blissfully happy is a complete fairytale.
In fact, having a child has been the most rewarding experience of my life. Far from ‘enslaving’ me, three-and-a-half-year-old Tenzin has opened my world. My only regret is that I discovered the joys of motherhood so late – I have been trying for a second child for two years, but so far with no luck.
Rebecca Walker doesn’t appear to be a Christian, and you’ll find some statements in the article that you probably won’t agree with if you are one. But the basic argument is one a lot of us have been trying to make for years: That radical feminism has done far more harm to women (and to everybody around those women) than any good it’s done.
Have a wonderful Memorial Day holiday!
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