When I was a little girl, I used to state authoritatively when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up that I wanted to be President of the United States. This announcement was usually greeted with laughter.
The laughter wasn’t badly intended. It always included an acknowledgment that I had a lot of gumption—that I was a precocious little girl who could be a little fearless in public. My father also generally aided in protecting me from any ill will the statement might generate. He was proud of my confidence and felt it reflected well on him. I was also always careful to make the statement sound cute—as was expected of young girls in the late 60s and early 70s. I would always follow up the statement that I already lived in a white house so it just made sense that I would one day live and preside in The White House. Understood in that statement and joke was the fact that already, even as a young girl, I had a lot of authority in my home. My sister dreamed of my being president and even the adults understood that I had qualities associated with leadership: intelligence, thoughtfulness, and courage. I was lucky that they took me so seriously, but of course they knew my statement was a bit ridiculous. I wasn’t going to be president—everyone knew this and that was what made the statement so laughable. It wasn’t that they didn’t have confidence in me. They just didn’t expect to see a female president in their lifetimes. Even as a little girl I knew this and adjusted my dreams accordingly.
So, here I am reflecting on the Democratic primary, and it looks like I might see a woman president in my lifetime. I should be celebrating. I am celebrating but only discretely and mostly alone. The prospect of a female president is still being presented by many as unthinkable. Of course, it isn’t put this way. Rather, it is just not this woman who should be president. This woman only got there because a man in her life created space for her aspirations. This woman shouldn’t be president because her experience makes it complicated for anyone to really like her. This woman shouldn’t be president because she has made tough decisions in her life, some of them even mistakes. And most forcefully although usually indirectly, this woman shouldn’t be president because she has known she has the capacity to lead since she was a little girl and this makes her uncomfortably ambitious.
Moreover, her aspirations for president are being treated as on par with those of a favored billionaire son who from many reports chose to run for president because he couldn’t take a joke. The narrative goes: he didn’t like being laughed at at the White House Correspondents’ dinner or treated like his desire to lead was cute. So, he ran for president. Even Jon Stewart, a hero of mine, has recently critiqued Hillary but only in the nicest of ways. She is a bright woman; she just doesn’t have the courage of her convictions. By implication, he means that her older white male opponent does. So, we shouldn’t feel cause for celebration yet. This woman doesn’t quite have enough gumption for us to be too happy about her prospects, although of course she has fought for difficult causes all her life. And of course, context doesn’t matter when evaluating that hard work. Time itself works against her; evolving to respond to the new information of the present just make the past all the more unforgivable in her. And somehow through all this, I am supposed to think that the next woman would be treated differently, no one would dare to find that woman’s ambition ridiculous. Just let this coverage slide.
What makes me saddest of all is that my daughter can’t celebrate either. She is stronger than me and smarter. Her father and I—or for that matter anyone who has met her—would never laugh if she stated that she wanted to be President of the United States. Actually, my husband and I are disappointed that she is not considering that career path. That is just how competent and smart she is—and it is our country that is losing out for not inspiring her to pursue politics. She can’t celebrate yet because on her college campus showing support of Clinton’s candidacy will only lead to rancor. So, she is hiding out for now. It is easier to say nothing.
Soon, I hope both of us will be celebrating and openly so. I know my husband and teenage son will be celebrating with me in November in our remote white farmhouse should Clinton win the general election. But for now, I have to remind myself that this will be an historic occasion. It can mean that no little girl will have to adjust her dreams accordingly when laughter follows this statement: when I grow up I want to be President of the United States of America. For now, however, I am still waiting for the derision to die down so that I can hear those little girl dreams again.
-Written By: Cynthia Richards, Professor of English
