Welcome, Effie

On Friday, Liz will give birth to our daughter, Josephine Grace Renkoski. Liz has a scheduled Caesarean section, an operation that may be named for Julius Caesar, but almost certainly did not produce him. C-sections were performed during the Roman Empire only if the mother had died or was going to die. Caesar's mother lived to his adulthood. Any suggestion that Caesar was born by c-section comes from the medieval times or later. There is no soft C in Latin so Romans would have pronounced Caesar as kaiser, which is still the German word for king (it is also where the word czar comes from). 

Speaking of kings, this birth offers me what the French call le choix du roi, the king's choice, when a father is expecting a girl after already having a son. Under Salic law, which France's monarchy recognized, only sons could inherit the throne so a king with a son had guaranteed his kingdom would go on. However, once a son was procured, it was best to then have a girl that the king could marry to a foreign royal, thus expanding his influence. A son was essential, a strong piece with which to consolidate power, but a girl was the pawn to build an empire. 

I don't really plan on building an empire through my children though I have no doubt they will astound me, they already do. But the concept of le choix du roi, and its relegation of the daughter as a tool to be used by the father (and, being fair, its assumption that the son is little more than a copy) reminds me that the world little Effie will be born in may be hostile to her. This feeling is not lessened by the equivalent British phrase, "an heir and a spare," which suggests the second child is redundant. My daughter will join 1.1 billion other women under 20 on this planet which means she will be part of a group that 20% of which will be married by the age of 10, 5% of which will have forced sex, and 60% of which will not finish high school. That these numbers don't reflect the reality of an American girl in Iowa is of little comfort. These are her sisters and this is our world. What sort of empire have I built for you to expand, Effie?

In America, where our Jo will join 50.8% of the population, she will find her educational prospects greatly improved compared to global averages, but she may wonder what all that access to diplomas is worth. Women earn 48.5% of all law degrees but represent only 22.7% of law partners. Though women have sat for the majority of the doctorates in the last eight years, only 32% of professors are women, and only 3 out of 10 colleges have a female dean. 61% of all accountants are women but only 12.5 CFOs are. When she is born at least, Effie will live under the governorship of a woman, a relatively rare thing. There are only 8 other states she could move to and say the same. Women are 23% of city mayors, and make up 24% of Congress (local statehouses are 28% female). I don't think I need to tell you that for women of color the numbers are not better, 2% of governors (which, for you statisticians out there, means only Michelle Lujan Grisham of New Mexico) and 9% of mayors. 

"I wonder why we take from our women, why we rape our women," asks Tupac Shakur as only a person raised by a single mother can (especially one who was a Black Panther) can. "Do we hate our women?" Comparisons like the above are a little dicey because they assume that leadership is a universal desire and the only way to be successful. However, no one deserves to live in fear. When I walk down the street and a woman smiles at me, I could think that she is being friendly or inviting, but the back of my mind always wonders, at least a little bit, if she's doing so because she's afraid that if she doesn't I'll smash her head into the concrete. One in four American women will be abused by a partner, one in seven will be stalked. When Effie watches a movie, only 31% of the speaking characters will be of her sex, and only 21% of those movies will be made by people like her. And the images she sees will tell her how she is expected to look and talk and be. They will constantly tell her she is not good enough, or not visible enough, or too visible. Surely, boys are subjected to damaging images and expectations as well but many of those are framed as what men are entitled to as men, not what is lacking in their very selves. And besides, male representation shows off the wide variety of ways men can be successful, attractive or powerful when those avenues for women are much narrower. 

But they are widening. Each of these statistics listed above is trending positively since Effie's mother was born and will inevitably be better by the time she's grown. Still, these realities await Effie to say nothing of the extraordinary realities of the day. Sunday is Father's Day and depending on Liz's recovery, I may be able to see both of my children but probably not together because of quarantine. I can be with Liz during the birth and recovery but if I leave the hospital, I won't be allowed back. If it is discovered that Liz has contracted COVID-19 between now and Friday, they will separate us from Effie for the first two weeks of her life. Even if all goes well, we are to limit her exposure to other people for eight weeks, the precise time when help from others is most needed by new parents. This isn't a complaint, this disease mercifully largely spares the youngest among us and I will submit to anything that keeps my family safe, but there's no denying this is a unique time. 

So given all this, in a world that blames women for everything from original sin to breaking up the Beatles, that doesn't believe women the way that it should, that marginalizes women, silences women and kills women, that will name a boat after a woman but not a high school, during a global pandemic with no cure or treatment, with unrest from systemic inequalities disturbing the streets, with incompetent, divisive leadership seemingly making things worse, with the looming threat of climate change ever present, I can understand the thought that there couldn't be a worse time to bring a baby girl into the world. Yet, I can think of no time better. 

This young woman will be loved. She will be valued for her beauty and her intellect. She will walk courageously in the brave footsteps of her mother and her grandmothers and will make us all proud. She will recognize the inherent nonsense of her father and her brother and she will have none of it. Her parents will make mistakes but they will never stop loving her or trying to protect her while teaching her how to protect herself. It doesn't matter what she does but she will know she can do anything and she won't be alone. She will belong to the generation that solves climate change. She and her peers will form a group so colorful and varied where inclusion is the default setting. She will shine like righteousness. Shakespeare wrote in King Lear that "When we are born, we cry that we are come to this great stage of fools." But it will not be the fools' stage for long. I am reminded of Wotan, Wagner's king of the gods, who was so obsessed with wisdom that he traded his eye to gain more of it. That wisdom, however, did not help him see that his disastrous machinations were edging existence toward ruin. When all was lost and the die was cast, Wotan faded into shadow while his daughter burned the world in order to rebuild it anew. A king's choice, indeed.