Mary Kenny
Ever since I became interested in feminism – it was back in 1967, while in New York – I’ve observed that feminists have been concerned with one prevailing issue.
This was sometimes defined as ‘having it all’ – the founder-editor of modern Cosmopolitan magazine Helen Gurley Brown coined that phrase. The British author Shirley Conran called the syndrome ‘Superwoman’. Hundreds of books have been written about the issue – including one I wrote myself (which wasn’t very good, but it articulated the problem).
And the question was this: how can a woman achieve the goal of a fulfilling career, even a top-ranking career, while also being a mother and a spouse? How can she juggle that difficult balance?
Motherhood
Previous generations of women told me that they were often forced to choose between a career and motherhood. Back in the 40s and 50s, there were quite a few women in important and fulfilling jobs, but they were nearly always single. And they were scarcely ever mothers. Occasionally, there might be a widow directing a business endeavour, but she would usually be older with the children off her hands.
We looked for role-models everywhere, and we found a few. We also found that sometimes there was a cost. The marriage went bust. The kids were in trouble. ‘Juggling’ became an obsession for women of my generation, and younger, in our quest to ‘have it all’. And we greatly admired women who got it right. In time, this was canonised into official language as ‘work-life balance’.
Where is the applause for this woman who has achieved this flawless ‘Superwoman’ goal?”
And now, in the world’s most influential nation, we have at last a perfect role-model for ‘Superwoman’. Amy Coney Barrett could have been invented by a utopian writer to represent the ideal of ‘Superwoman’: a brilliant education, a stellar legal career, an apparently successful marriage and seven children, including two adopted orphans from Haiti. One of her children also has special needs. And, although it shouldn’t matter, but in a visual age it does, she also looks attractive and well-presented.
Feminists
She has now attained one of the great offices of the US, as a Justice of the US Supreme Court.
But where is the applause for this woman who has achieved this flawless ‘Superwoman’ goal? Nowhere, that I can find, among feminists in general. Nowhere, that I can find, among the mainstream media. Reportage of her achievements has focused, almost obsessively, on carping about her religious faith (as a Catholic), and warnings that she will undo Roe vs Wade, the federal abortion ruling introduced in 1973.
ACB has stated that she will act entirely in accordance with the law and the constitution, but she herself has been judged before she has even taken her seat. She is an emblem of the ‘Superwoman’ we strove to see, but she has also become an exemplar of a one-sided, mean-spirited, and bigoted narrative in the public realm.
How an eye op opened up a new way of thinking
It often happens that a minor ordeal opens our imaginations to the challenges, even suffering, that other people face.
I was apprehensive about having an eye cataract operation last weekend. The thought of a surgeon extracting a part of one’s eye, and then replacing it with a plastic lens, can be a mite scary. But as I checked into the clinic, I heard my mother’s words of long ago: “Be grateful that you can have a cataract operation. Wouldn’t it be worse if it wasn’t available?”
Indeed so: my left eye has been growing increasingly blurry all year.
Pressure
The op was managed very well, and so much is going on during the procedure, you don’t really know what’s happening: it’s all bright lights and a strange feeling of optical pressure.
The challenges came afterwards. For two weeks I mustn’t bend down, and for four weeks I mustn’t do anything strenuous (like using the vacuum cleaner), or lift any heavy objects. Everyday tasks such as taking out the garbage can’t be undertaken. Feeding the cat was a problem – not bending to the floor to fill her food dish. Loading the washing machine needed careful movement. Even opening the low-level fridge door required planning.
Obstacle race
Able-bodied people take for granted that we can easily perform ordinary tasks. But what an obstacle race so many of those ordinary tasks must be for the disabled.
Being barred from doing these things easily truly opens your eyes. I also reflected on the difficulties of those who went blind in later life – including Eamon de Valera and James Joyce [pictured].
Yet, we develop coping strategies: in reaching lower cupboards, I’ve managed something between a curtsy and a ballet plié in carefully bending my knees while keeping the torso upright.
I’ve learned to feed the cat by sitting down and delivering the food in a backwards manoeuvre.
But I’m still aware that I have to think, think, think before I make a move – and that’s been the real insight.