James M. Redwine

Gender

Spring, Humbug

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James Taylor wrote Sweet Baby James in 1970:

“There’s a song that they sing when they take to the highway
A song that they sing when they take to the sea
Song that they sing of their home in the sky
Maybe you can believe it if it helps you to sleep
But singing works just fine for me”

If you side with those who dream of a home in the sky, paradise was populated by Adam and Eve. Their Garden of Eden was perfect but that did not stop Eve from trying to improve it. You know, kind of like some wives when spring arrives. Say my wife, Peg, for example. I can imagine the conversation between Adam and Eve.

“Adam, isn’t this idyllic? Everything is just perfect. However, that one tree needs its fruit plucked. Would you mind just keeping an eye on that serpent while you are lounging around doing nothing?”

It is theoretically possible that was the beginning of humanity’s Rite of Spring where husbands are cast out of their dens by their wives who are intoxicated from the sight of emerging buds, the feel of damp earth and the smell of humas. I am reminded of Peg’s need to transform our perfect new home with paint and flower beds. Spring should be re-named the season of restless wives and “Honey, could you?” Where in the Constitution is it provided that it is illegal, or at least, unpolitic, for husbands to prop up their feet while waiting for a fish to make a mistake?

What estrogen fueled behavior is it that prevents wives from allowing winter to gently and slowly thaw its way to autumn and football season? Or as Professor Henry Higgins in My Fair Lady asked, “Why can’t a woman be more like a man?” My guess is that Dr. Louis Leakey only found Lucy and not her mate in Olduvai Gorge because she had her husband off performing some springtime chore. Nothing has changed in a few hundred thousand years.

Now, it may not be that the female response to spring is responsible for all the world’s troubles, but I think it goes without question that Peg’s incessant activities both in our cabin and our yard interfere with my desire to fish our pond and watch Gunsmoke reruns. I will leave it to you, Gentle Reader, at least those of you of the testosterone persuasion, what else could it be?

Hell Hath No Fury!

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Abigail Adams (1744-1818) was the wife of our second president, John Adams, and the mother of our sixth, John Quincy Adams. She wielded great influence over both but could not secure for women the right to vote. Her effort in the cause of female rights is exemplified by the following excerpt from one of her numerous letters to John while he was deeply involved in the Continental Congress:

“- I long to hear that you have declared an independency [from Great Britain] – and by the way in the new Code of Laws [The Declaration of Independence and new Articles of the Confederation] which I suppose it will be necessary for you to make I desire you would Remember the Ladies, and be more generous and favourable to them than your ancestors. Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the Husbands. Remember all Men would be tyrants if they could. If particular care and attention is not paid to the Ladies we are determined to foment a Rebellion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any Laws in which we have no voice or Representation.” (April 1776) 

A mere 144 years later most American women who were twenty-one years or older got the right to vote when the 19th Amendment was ratified in 1920. However, in the meantime there was hell to pay for a lot of people who forgot the aphorism, “Hell Hath No Fury Like Women Scorned!” (from a 1697 English play by William Congreve, 1670-1729). Perhaps John Adams and his fellow Founding Fathers, they were all men at the Continental Convention, should have listened. Perhaps they might have saved the United States 144 years of angst and saved themselves many nights on the couch.

It is not as if women, and a lot of men too, were not struggling mightily for many years to give females equality. Such courageous heroines as Dolly Madison (1768-1849), Elizabeth Cady Stanton (1815-1902) and Susan B. Anthony (1820-1906) were marching lecturing, writing and enduring social, political and even physical danger in the cause of female suffrage. And in my own family my grandmother, who had no right to vote until she was well beyond 21, instilled in my mother, who well remembered when women could not vote, the debt she and other women owed to those pioneers. The best way to repay it was to exercise their dearly bought franchise. My 87-year-old sister Janie was imbued with this burning ardor as is my wife, Peg, who is not 87 but whose dearly departed mother lit that same flame in her.

My sister is a testament to how sacred many women, and many men also, hold the right to vote. Janie has been diagnosed with a slowly progressing but debilitating illness that many would have called uncle to before now. However, I am confident nothing will prevent her from participating in an election that might result in our first female president. Hillary Clinton won the popular vote that I bet included Janie’s. But she and her distaff cohorts now have another chance. I have no doubt my beloved, and committed sister will make it to November 05 and, hopefully well beyond, the medical folks are of the opinion that they have no opinion. “It will be what it will be”, they say.

I think it may turn out that Peg’s mother, my mother and even our grandmothers and great grandmothers, all of whom have gone onto their rewards, may find some way to join Janie and Peg at the polls November 05, 2024, only 248 years after Abigail’s entreaty to John. Of course, many will exercise their rights in support of their contemporary female hopefuls but many women will vote for men on the ticket. And many men will freely vote for the fairer sex but will also support the men on the ballots.

In other words, gender will no longer be, and should never have been, a determining factor in either choosing a candidate or having the right to make such a choice. Congratulations to all of us for no longer basing our vital political selections on sex, no matter what that designation may be. Abigail should be beaming wherever she is.

Be Bold, It’s Worth It!

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Peg’s Gift! Photo by Peg Redwine

Thousands of free people gathered in front of the country of Georgia’s parliament in the capitol city of Tbilisi this past week to protest two new general laws the ruling political power, The Dream Party, wanted to impose on Georgia’s citizens. Although it has been denied by Russia, both bills were inspired by Russia’s draconian statutes that suppress dissent and oppress would-be dissenters in Russia. The Russian Duma and President Putin have managed to enact a series of laws that would make Joseph Goebbels envious and George Orwell prophetic.

Georgia’s reactionary, pro-Russian, anti-Western ruling party thought to run roughshod over freedom of speech, freedom of the press and freedom of the Georgian citizens to peacefully assemble and ask their government to address their grievances. In the case of these two new laws, the attempt by The Dream Party was to prevent foreign support for Georgian democracy and to punish by fines of up to 25,000 Georgian lari ($9,600 U.S. dollars) or even up to 5 years imprisonment, anyone who accepted foreign support of over 20% of their budget for pro-Western/anti-Russian activities and thoughts. These two statutes would have designated such support as coming from “foreign agents”, say America for example. In fact, since Peg and I were paid and dispatched to Georgia by the American Bar Association, the United States Agency for International Development and the East-West Management Institute, those two Alice in Wonderland epistemological abominations might well have resulted in our appearance in the very courts we were sent to help.

Most of Georgia’s northern border is bounded by Russia. In 2008 Russia simply drove its army into Georgia without need for much military activity and took over 20% of Georgia’s sovereign territory that it still occupies. Russia exerts great influence over much of Georgia, but a majority of Georgians see themselves as being entitled to a free and democratic country that looks to Europe and the West for its future. Russia and Georgia’s governmental majority Dream Party demur from this position.

When Peg and I were sent to Georgia beginning in June 2022 and permanently leaving 25 February 2023, we were instructed to work with several of Georgia’s judges, court staffs, attorneys, law students and university pupils with the main goal of helping to enhance judicial independence and citizen access to the justice system. We were impressed with the desire of the Georgian people for freedom and democracy and especially the goodwill we experienced as representative Americans. We made many wonderful friends and greatly enjoyed the people.

In general, Georgians like and respect America and most of them are oriented toward the West and evince western values of justice and democracy. Peg and I were reminded of our halcyon days on our college campuses and our own protests against the Viet Nam War and for the Women’s Movement and the anti-discrimination movement to help Black people. I already had my honorable discharge when I returned to campus and Peg was not subject to the draft. However, we both engaged in First Amendment activities without regard to other possible repercussions, such as cutting class.

Much of my motivation came from growing up during days of Black/white segregation and losing one of my childhood friends to combat in Viet Nam. Peg was and is, of course, a member of that class of persons most affected by gender discrimination. Those are some of the reasons we respect what the people of Georgia are standing up for. They have much to lose personally but they do not want to lose their beautiful country. Therefore, they are making the hard sacrifices and standing up for their own rights and those of all their fellow citizens. And as President Theodore Roosevelt said, “The Glory Belongs to the Ones in the Arena.” We say to our Georgian patriots, if it were easy, it would not mean much. But, since there is much to dare, we say, as did World War II General “Vinegar” Joe Stillwell, in faux Latin, “Illegitimi non carborundum!” Be bold, it’s worth it!

A reminder in a coffee shop in Batumi, Georgia. Photo by Peg Redwine

Good Things Come With Time

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Photo by Peg Redwine

As did Athena, the goddess of wisdom who sprung full grown from the head of Zeus, occasionally a Mozart-type creative genius is born into the world already with great mental acuity. But most people only develop wisdom over a substantial amount of time. That is why virtually every culture honors its older citizens, not because they have lived a long time but because they may have accumulated knowledge and may possess sound judgment as a result. Of course, good judgment often is earned the hard way, that is, in response to earlier bad decisions. If one survives enough poor choices, better choices and better advice become more likely.

When it comes to good choices, I have been impressed by the simplicity of the dietary decisions of two elderly women. France’s Jeanne Louise Calment lived to be over 122. She quit smoking at age 120 and she claimed her long life was due to her penchant for chocolate and port wine.

Her fellow Frenchwoman, Sister Andre, is now the oldest person on earth at 118 years of age. Sister Andre survived the Spanish Flu in 1918 and recovered from COVID-19 in 2020. The Catholic nun stated that chocolate is her favorite food and she drinks a glass of wine every day. That certainly sounds better to me than kale and exercise. I am changing my approach.

One recent phenomenon of reaching an old age that as a male concerns me is that since the beginning of the 21stcentury of the 24 oldest people on earth only two have been men. Now I do not know the ages of many Biblical women but according to the Old Testament at Genesis 5:27, Methuselah lived to be 969 years old and Genesis at 9:29 tells us Methuselah’s grandson, Noah, lived until he was 950. What happened to men? I say we are now short about 900 years and women are now greatly outliving us. Please do not mistake my intent. It is not that I want women to live shorter lives than men, I just want all of us to, at least, make it to well over 100 or even receive a Biblical allotment of a long tenure.

In that regard, I must replace my granola bars with an assortment of chocolate. As to the wine increment, Peg and I bought a wine cooler at the Pawhuska, Oklahoma Chamber of Commerce auction last Saturday and Pawhuska’s Blue Sky Bank, that contributed the cooler, filled it with fun brands of wine, including some from the Prairie Rattler Winery in Shidler, Oklahoma. I feel heathier already. In fact, Peg and I now qualify to be full members of my sister Jane’s so-called women’s book club, Inspiritice, that ostensibly meets to discuss good books, but in reality, just gets together to drink good wine. I think they may all live forever; at least I hope so.

Photo by Peg Redwine
Photo by Jim Redwine

Blame Lucy

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Louis and Mary Leakey discovered some early human ancestors in Tanzania, Africa’s Olduvai Gorge in 1959. Donald Johanson discovered who may be our original grandmother in Ethiopia’s Great Rift Valley in 1974. He named her Lucy because he was a Beatles fan and listened to the song “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” right after his discovery. It may be uncharitable to Johanson and paleontology to point out many believe the song was a paean to LSD. On the other hand, those who question Lucy’s bona fides may find solace in this theory.

At the opposite end of those Doubting Thomas’ is the atheistic biologist Richard Dawkins from the University of Oxford who pushed human origins back to as much as five million years ago and posited his meme theory. Dawkins suggests that it is our replicating genes that determine who and what we are and why we behave as we do. One of his famous analogies to explain the evolution of human biology and behavior is to suggest we envision a long line of mothers holding hands all the way back to Lucy. And, as for me, my experiences with my mother and my wife, Peg, convince me there is some credence to the science of the Leakeys, Johanson and Dawkins.

Let’s envision Lucy, our grandmother, in her African cave while our mythical grandfather, call him Adam, goes out to hunt a mastodon for dinner. Adam is struggling with how to trick the massive beast to stampede over a cliff, but Lucy is back home planning for Adam’s return. After Lucy rearranges the lodge pole front door for the tenth time, she surveys the cave’s interior. She is dissatisfied with the position of the bearskin rug she had Adam move just yesterday. She makes a mental note to have Adam shake out the bearskin and figure out a way to attach it to the granite wall of the cave.

Next, Lucy inventories the two stone cooking utensils that Adam carved out for her last week and decides she must have another small one for their new baby’s meals. Lucy switches the positions of the two vessels for the third time. They look better to her now. Lucy gives the baby a bath in the stream running in front of their cave and realizes with only a few days of work with his stone hoe Adam could divert water right to their cave. Lucy resolves to mention her idea to Adam over a handful of fermenting blackberries when he returns.

Meanwhile Adam is full of a sense of accomplishment because he has skinned the mastodon and is hauling the hide, one ivory tusk and a huge chunk of meat back for Lucy to admire. Adam assumes his work is done for a week or two because Lucy will need to tan the hide, process the meat and make sewing needles from the tusk as she cooks dinner and nurses the baby.

Gentle Reader, you may wonder, or you may not care, why we are discussing the lives of Lucy, Adam and baby from thousands of years ago. Well, I will tell you. About three years ago Peg and I moved into our cabin on the prairie. By unspoken agreement Peg took over all space but my barn. This worked out fine until over the two years of COVID Peg had time to organize every inch of her Girl Cave, the Bunkhouse, the Cabin and even the neutral territory of our garage. Last week spring truly arrived and Peg turned her gaze on my barn. It has not been pretty.

As long as she did not have to look at my laissez-faire system of “if it ain’t in my way, why worry about it”, well, she didn’t worry herself with it. But once she opened the overhead doors and found the mother lode of “my stuff”, she focused her female/Lucy type DNA upon my space. It reminded me of when my sainted mother would venture into my room on a Saturday morning and turn it upside down. Peg and Mom and Lucy and all wives and mothers in between have spent about two million years of two X chromosomal fixation with organization of sons’ and husbands’ behavior. I guess my three-year barn reprieve is over.

A Limited Tenure

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President Biden has announced his intention to nominate an African American woman for the Senate to advise and consent for service on the United States Supreme Court. At the risk of being embroiled in a Whoopi Goldberg “Jewish is not a race issue type of discussion”, I suggest neither race nor gender is the issue for whomever is nominated.  Politics is always what membership on the Supreme Court is about.

From the highly political John Marshall (years on Court 1801-1835) to the highly political Ruth Bader Ginsberg (years on Court 1998-2020) the justices of the U.S. Supreme Court have often worn their politics on the sleeves of their robes. Marshall was nominated by President John Adams. Ginsberg was nominated by President Bill Clinton. Americans who agreed with Adams’ political positions generally agreed with Marshall’s decisions and those who leaned in Clinton’s policy directions championed Ginsberg’s. We should not be surprised if a president nominates someone whose political tendencies match the president’s. It is not a justice’s race or gender that matters; it is their philosophies.

Sometimes when a president, liberal or conservative, chooses a justice, that justice turns out on the opposite end from the president’s philosophy. President Eisenhower, a conservative, chose Earl Warren (years on Court 1953-1969) who led a liberal revolution from his position as Chief Justice. And President George H.W. Bush nominated the African American Clarence Thomas to the Bench; Black Clarence Thomas may be to the right of former slave owner Roger Brooke Taney (years on Court 1836-1864) who decided the Dred Scott case. Although it is not likely Thomas would have agreed with that particular decision.

Supreme Court justices are just like the rest of us. We carry our beliefs and prejudices throughout our lives. They change from time to time and sometimes we can overcome them. But the U.S. Supreme Court is just another political branch of our three-branch political democracy. Politicians are placed on the Court by politicians that we elect. As Plato might have said, “Only the naïve believe otherwise.”

Instead of our long-time national self-delusion that the Supreme Court is not a political force, we should acknowledge that the justices are just humans and accept reality. The best we can hope for is term limits instead of a life-time appointment. I suggest one ten-year term would be about right.