What kind of WELCA woman are you?

by Jennifer Hockenbery

by Jennifer Hockenbery

I grew up in the 1970s with a free to be yellow tank top that I wore every day. My mother did not buy me a Barbie no matter how much I begged. It was the era of liberal feminism, and I was told firmly that girls were barely different than boys. I could do anything boys could do . . . maybe better. 

I also loved wearing dresses and playing with my neighbor’s Barbies. I wanted to wear my hair long and play at being a princess. But I saw all those things as weaknesses on my part. Even as a child, I had the sense that choosing girl things was choosing to be less than all that I could be.

I was pretty sure that doing well at doing things that men did was better than doing well at doing things that women did. So, yes, my grandmother and mother taught me to sew, and I loved the sundress with pink roses that I made the summer after high school. But I deliberately chose a college that had been a men’s school less than two decades before my acceptance. And I chose Philosophy and Classics as majors out of pure love for wisdom, but I was also proud to be only one of a handful of women in those fields.

In graduate school, I was routinely told not to smile so much by my male professors. I was warned that the reason that I had positive teaching evaluations from my students was because I was too nice to them, too friendly. I was once told to stop being so charming by a male professor and warned by a fellow female student that I shouldn’t wear skirts in seminars because I ought not to call attention to my femininity.

When I was hired for my first job at a women’s college, I was suddenly immersed into a different kind of feminism than that I had mostly encountered before. The school Sisters proclaimed that they were educating women not to be just like men, but to be all who they were as women.  At this college the vast majority of faculty and administration were women. Everyone was brilliant, most of them smiled when they wanted to do so. The traits of being friendly and nurturing, or wanting to be a mother, were mostly praised.

One of our biggest areas of study was Fashion.  My students talked about how Fashion created the silhouettes that each era called feminine.  Whether a cultural trend was curvy or waif-like, whether the emphasis was on breasts, bottoms, or legs—clothes were cut to create the shape.  I learned that pockets were a feminist issue—previously left out of women’s clothes so that they would be more vulnerable with a purse that was easier to snatch and more dependent on a male escort.  I learned that the feminine, the womanly, was constructed.  The key was that rather than being trapped by the construct, we needed to create the construct in our image—celebrate what we loved being and doing. 

Like many women, I went to see the Barbie movie last summer and loved it.  My mother had not allowed me to play with Barbies because of the impossible body standards she represented.  But I played with Barbies behind her back at the neighbor’s house.  The movie reminded a lot of us of that love-hate relationship with Barbie and the love-hate relationship we might have with being a woman.  The speech delivered by America Ferrara reminds us that there is no way to be the model woman—it is too much of a contradiction.  Thin but not too thin.  Pretty but without effort.  A leader without being bossy.  We blame Barbie for setting an impossible standard, but actually Barbie is just trying to live up to the impossible standard that culture puts on women.

The solution: embrace ourselves as we are while embracing our sisters around us.  As Luther said we are each both a Saint and Sinner.  That Lutheran bit is important because I don’t recommend just saying, “I am who I am, so be it.” There are toxic elements in the air around womanhood. We need to be aware of adopting fashion, mannerisms, and attitudes that are harmful to ourselves or others.  We need to ask, “Why do I wear shoes that hurt my feet?” “Why do I smile and accept a lower salary?” “Why can’t I walk as freely at night as my brother?” But we also can enjoy who we are as we are, whoever we are.

Sometimes, I worry that WELCA runs into the same impossible paradox as Barbie. We want to be pro-woman but what does that mean? We want to welcome young women but retain respect for older women. We need more money to do our work well, but it isn’t nice to ask for money all the time. Who are we, who do we want to be? We are quilters and beer drinkers; we study the Bible and we go on Facebook; we have young mothers, single retired women, grandmothers, and activists.  We have academics and pastors and mothers and athletes. We work for anti-racism and to end sex trafficking.  We have tea parties and wine tours.  We are WELCA.    

As we go through this interim year, send me a photo of what kind of WELCA you are to share on Thursday Facebook posts.  And check out Thursdays to see your sisters. We are so much more than just one stereotype.

One more brief note.  Being a woman is exhausting! More on that in the next blog. We need more Sabbath, more rest in our lives.  Starting in August, we are taking a Sabbath from Social Media on Sundays. This allows our staff to go to church, be with their families, and rest. Next month, I talk more about the importance of Sabbath for women.

Dr. Jennifer Hockenbery is interim executive director for Women of the ELCA and editor of the Journal of Lutheran Ethics.

Follow Women of the ELCA on Facebook, especially on Thursdays, and answer the question, “What kind of WELCA woman are you?”