At this point in my life, I am a single dad to a young girl, and just recently, during her tenth year, I have found myself running up against the limits of my rudimentary knowledge of the lives of women.
I realise now that I know almost nothing about the psychology of women. I have spent my life in their company, admiring and respecting them, working alongside them, engaging them, marrying them even.
But as for their motivations, their inner life, I am clueless. I know the actions of women, the reactions, but I am ignorant of what informs them.
How do I prepare my lovely daughter for the challenges she is set to face as a girl approaching her pre-teen years, when I have no similar experiences of my own to draw on? Well, I consult with the women I know.
They are generous with their advice. It is relevant and helpful, and just when my ignorant anxiety threatens to overwhelm me, it maps a path through the maze of parenting life.
I am humbly grateful for every scrap of guidance I receive. Every tiny piece of encouragement. Every anecdote that opens up that opaque window into the life journey of women by another tiny crack.
But I am forced to wonder… men and women, why do we not know each other better? Why have our two worlds been intertwined for so many countless generations, yet been kept secret from each other?
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Or more accurately, perhaps, how have we men kept ourselves so ignorant of the lives, the minds, the ways of women?
One senses that women are relatively familiar with male culture, that set of values having been hegemonically dominant for the past several millennia. I guess it is one of the hallmarks of privilege to be ignorant of the lives of the subordinate culture.
There are perhaps several parallels. In the same way that white South Africans are largely unable to speak the language of black people, so long oppressed and marginalised, we men now find ourselves unable to speak the language of women.
Literally, in some cases.
I remember in my days as a linguistics student, being fascinated by the gendered nature of communication. Research has shown, for instance, that when men and women are speaking together, it is often expected of the women to conduct the “conversational maintenance work”. They are expected to start conversations, and then to provide the constant prompts that keep dialogue flowing.
Even the way our genders use language is different.
Similarly, the rich have little understanding of the culture of poor people, while poor people have always had the dominant values of the affluent rulers of society shoved down their throats at every turn.
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Globally, the West also imposes cultural imperialism upon the emerging nations of the world – its language, its literature, its sports and entertainment. This has also become the way of men and women.
As far as my daughter and I are concerned, I am Britain, the USA, and she is Africa. The metaphor fits even more neatly because she is black and I am white.
The power relations inherent in gender are no mystery. They have long been evident, and the feminist movement has long dedicated itself to resolving them, so that the sexes might move towards political, social, economic and personal equality. That is a noble and just cause. I support it unreservedly.
The other famous misalignment between dominant and subordinate cultures is that between old people and the youth. I would be kidding myself if I did not accept that this was also a factor between my daughter and I.
But the main challenge I am facing is that I am not a woman. I just feel that if we men are going to be asked to raise women – and many of us are – we need to learn to be more like women!
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