The Tug of the Gender War

Despite the fact that I am a self-professed non-feminist, gender and the role it plays in relationships is discussed quite frequently at the Spiegels. This is in part due to fact that we have three boys and one girl. Watching them develop and relate to one another in such different ways generates a lot of conversations between Jim and me both on how to help our kids understand one another and how their differences translate to the larger scale of men and women in general. But obviously Jim and I, too, have the gender gap to overcome and find plenty of fodder in our own interactions as well.

A few Sundays back, we were riding home from the church with the kids and while I didn’t exactly have Jim’s full attention (I was competing with ESPN radio and the cacophony coming from the backseat), I took a moment or two to “remind” him of some projects around the house I thought needed his attention. This was the impetus of yet another discussion between us regarding the differences between the masculine and feminine approaches to life. He would say I was nagging and he would probably be right. Let’s face it girls, we nag. We take every opportunity we possibly can find to remind them of all the things they should be doing, could be doing, need to be doing. We cannot hold our tongues and let them do it in their own time. I can’t count the times when I have asked Jim to do something, probably more than once, and am getting ready to remind him again when he goes and does it of his own accord. And frankly when he does it on his own, when I come home and he has unclogged the toilet or cleaned up the garage, I don’t really find it as satisfying because I didn’t tell him to do it! If that isn’t a symptom of the fall of man (and woman) and the complete and total infiltration of sin into every crevice of our being, I don’t know what is.   

But here’s the thing. Even in the way that He caused our natures to be cursed and fallen, God has shown mercy. Eve overstepped her place in reaching to be like God, and Adam abdicated his role in not intervening and, instead, participating with her. So God said, “Okay Eve, you want to be in charge? Then I will pair you with a man who would rather sit on the Lazy Boy or act like he doesn’t hear the kids pulling one another’s eyes from their sockets.” And He says “Okay Adam, you don’t want to step up and be irresponsible? Then I will pair you with a woman who will nag you about cutting the grass and ask you completely unimportant questions when there are 30 seconds to go in the last quarter with the score tied and your team on the 10-yard line.” But it could be worse. God, in His wisdom, has allowed even our weaknesses to compliment one another.

Men struggle with irresponsibility when it comes to their duties at home and spending time with their families.  (I am making a generalization here. Please don’t e-mail me about how you are married to the perfect man who washes the dishes every night before he rubs your feet while you tell him about your day with the kids, okay? I get it. These are generalizations that are true to some extent in most cases. Is that a good enough disclaimer for you? Ditto for all those who think I am oversimplifying the follies of women). So God gives men women who are, generally speaking, good at organizing stuff at home and who love their husbands so much they are willing to force their spouse to spend time with them. Women struggle with keeping their emotions in check and overstepping the boundaries of their spouses. So God gives them men who are, generally speaking, much more steady in their mood swings and who are laid back enough to handle encroachment in the small areas and strong enough to repel encroachment in the big ones. I love that Jim is strong where I am weak and vice versa. It’s like spooning—you fit where your partner is lacking. So rather than belittling one another for the areas where we differ, let’s appreciate these as opportunities for grace and hope the other guy (or gal) will do the same. Otherwise we are back in the garden, once again trying to assign blame, locked in an eternal tug of war in which no one wins. So the next time the wife gives you the stink eye (again) for not putting your socks in the hamper (again) or the hubby drifts in and out of listening to the minute details of your day, just take a deep breath and move on. After all, it could be a lot worse.

Shirtless Men and High-heeled Women

 

I’m no feminist by any stretch of the imagination—mostly because I consider it a diminishment of what I stand for as a woman. But having said as much, I would like to know what makes men think they have the right to go around half clothed. Every time I see some guy walking around bare-chested I feel as if they are saying “Yes, women look upon my manly lack of breast. Gaze upon the evidence that I will never have to endure child birth or breastfeeding-induced chaffing.” (I don’t come at this issue from a modesty standpoint, though being raised by two former Pentecostals hasn’t given me the broadest of views on the subjects.) It isn’t as though the chest you are staring at is that of the latest Calvin Klein model (we should be so lucky). More often than not it’s Fred, your fifty-something neighbor mowing his yard, who would make a great spokesman for the need to ban all trans-fats.

 

When I see such a display of male prerogative, I’m tempted to utter the childish phrase “It’s just not fair!” It puts me in mind to go out in high heels (or to go out and purchase a pair of high heels) and prance around the neighborhood shouting “Yes, men look upon my feminine fragility. Gaze upon the evidence that I will never be drafted into the military or be asked to unclog the garbage disposal.” Let’s face it, we may be of the same species but there is a considerable distance between Venus and Mars. So why fight it? What is it in me that rises up in defiance when my sons drop their drawers and go the bathroom outside while my daughter and I huddle in the port-a-potty trying to convince ourselves that the blue water really does kill all the germs?

 

There must come a point when we learn to appreciate each of our contributions to society as a whole and to the well being of one another as husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, fathers and mothers. I think this moment came for Jim and me several years ago when he was sitting on the couch reading and I was putting away laundry. I was mindlessly doing my “woman’s work” when it suddenly dawned on me that I would be doing this menial task for him for the rest of my life. Never again would someone wash my clothes, fold my socks, etc. I walked into the living room, a little perturbed. In a rather self-righteous tone I said “It must be nice to open your drawer and, like magic, there are clean clothes to wear.” Without skipping a beat, he looked up and said “And it must be nice to go to the bank, insert your ATM card and, like magic, there is money.” He went back to reading. I went back to putting away clothes but I think that moment is the one of the defining moments of our life together for I truly believe we both walked away thinking “sucker.”