On Talking with our Mothers

I love my mom. A lot. Between her and my father (and my pale skin, my middle income family), I have lived a pretty comfortable life. However, despite how much I love my parents, I honestly HATE talking feminism with my mom. I don't know if it's that she is a product of an upbringing where her mother cooked and cleaned and lived the average life of a mother in the 50's, or if it's just the way she thinks, but talking about women's rights with my mother is about at comforting as banging my head against a wall.

Whenever I start talking about how unfair things still are, she tells me that I will never find a husband if I keep talking like that. She says to calm down. Quiet down. No man will ever love me, settle for me, tolerate me, if I keep bitching so much. She tells me I need to pretty for men. Quiet for them. Stroke their egos and forgive them their trespasses. Agree with them and hide my true thoughts.

I wonder how women did it decades ago, fighting for rights I have always had, when I still see so much injustice. I wonder how women of color eek their living from a country which denies them comforts whites take for granted.

I don't understand my mother; I wonder if she understood hers. I wonder if my children will understand me; what fights will they be engaged in? Will I tell them to be quiet, to accept the status quo? Will I fight alongside them?