Day: October 8, 2016

The politicians are rushing to express their outrage at the comments Donald Trump made about women eleven years ago and uncovered this week by the Washington Post.

House Speaker Paul Ryan said women are to be “championed and revered”,  and one elected official after another said they had daughters and wives they loved, and that they were angry at Donald Trump on their behalf. Women needed to be treated with great respect, almost all of them said.

They knew, because they had daughters they worried about.

I have a daughter I love, and I am not worried about her. She can take care of herself.

I want to write a letter to my daughter Emma, and I mean to tell her this. Perhaps she will one day read it to my new granddaughter, Robin. And I will tell it to my wife.

“Dear Emma, I want to say something to you. I am not angry about Donald Trump’s comments on your behalf, or because you have not been championed and revered or respected. You don’t need me to be your champion, and I do not revere you, I love you, which is quite different to me. You do not need to be patronized by me.
I am angry and disturbed at Donald Trump’s comments about women because all people – men and women, the old and the young need to be treated respectfully and supported.  Think of a political campaign where that was the standard.

I believe, as Jesus Christ, who is invoked by so many and betrayed so often,  believed, that it is the poor and the needy that need to be championed, and that I should revere the just and the compassionate, the empathetic and the thoughtful.

You are not fragile, you are strong and wise, you are not made of crystal.l

You have found love and meaningful work and now have a child who smiles often, you are a mother.

Maria is not in need of my reverence, either. She can take care of herself, and does every day. She would be angry with me for saying it was my job to champion and revere her, we need to champion and revere ourselves, that is what it means to be empowered.

And she loves me too much and knows me too well to revere me, or for me to revere her. That is not love, it is just another form of power in disguise.

We should all be angry when people are diminished, taken advantage of, insulted or treated as less than human, made to feel ugly, weak or powerless. We should all be angry when the powerful prey on the less powerful. When the powerful abuse their power.

You can take care of yourself, Emma, you have put your life together early and well, with strength and courage. You did it by yourself.

I am not your champion, and I hope you are not revered, you do not need that from me,  nor have you ever revered me. You see me too clearly, you know too much.

For me, revering you and being  your champion is just another way to patronize or diminish you. We men are not medieval knights setting out to rescue damsels in distress, not any more. Support is not reverence.

I can hardly imagine that as an act of equality in our world. I think we are never going back here, even in polarized America.

I love Maria dearly, as  you know, I hope she never lives in trembling and fear for a man to come and champion her. She never has.I love you as  well, and I know  you have not been living in wait for a man to come and protect you and your life. Good for you.

I, for one, do not ever want to see you as someone who cannot protect and defend and speak for yourself. I am always here if you need me, I have no white horse to ride down to Brooklyn, I gave all my lances away a long time ago. What makes me angry is cruelty and gross insensitivity and frightening ego and arrogance. Bullies make me angry, and people who use words as cruel weapons and bludgeons make me furious.

I am angry about the poor who have no hope, the young who have no future, the arrogant people who love only themselves.

I am not angry for you. I am mostly proud of you. I am sorry when people, especially men, cannot hear the hard words of truth about themselves and the awful damage they do.

I am not angry for you. I am angry for us.”

Rosemary was the first sheep to be shorn, she stayed calm and we were surprised at the lustre of her white wool beneath the layer of dirt. We will shear her again in the Spring.

Jim McRae is a master shearer, he also runs a photography shop and repairs cameras (one of the few left in the country), he trains border collies to herd sheep, he is a master story-teller. He is planning to retire, and when he does, he will leave a hole that cannot easily be filled. He has been a part of our lives for years, and is not a cherished part of our Open Houses. He sings, recites poems, tell stories, shows off his special shearing underclothes.

He is special.

There is a fascination about sheep shearing, I can’t precisely explain it, I think it connects people to an ancient art, to the natural world and to the animal world. Jim McRae was bombarded with questions, and the people who gathered outside of the pole barn were rapt, they listened to every word and watched every move.

Jim McRae is a master story teller and nobody moved during his talks and his work. I love the country for many reasons, one is that many people here still pursue a calling they love, rather than just a job that pays money.

Shearers drive long distances, do grueling work, are often injured, haul enormous amounts of equipment around, they usually charge between $6 and $7 a sheep. No respectable farmer pays them so little, we all pay more than they ask. They love their loves, they love their calling, and if you see the faces of people who come to see them, you know this is one of those fascinations that transcend generations, shearing is fascinating to the  young and the old.

Henry Snider came to the Open House with his mother and sister, he was curious to know more about the sheep shearing, so I invited him to come and watch. He did, and seemed to study every detail. Without being asked, Henry picked up some of the plastic trash bags and helped us collect the wool.

He never got bored, distracted, or wavered. He stayed through the end.

He was meticulous and picked up even the smallest scraps, he was fearless and worked close to the struggling sheep, he was savvy, knowing when to move and get out of the way. I’d like to invite him to come and help us whenever the shearer comes, he was impressive, one of the many bright lights of the Open House.