I am a Nebraskan – bred, born,
and raised.
The Heartland is my homeland, and
I know what the state welcome sign means when it says:
“NEBRASKA … the good life.”
In Friedan’s The
Feminine Mystique, she draws a parallel between the “strong capable women…needed
to pioneer our new land” in the age of Manifest Destiny and those needed on “the
American frontiers…of the mind, and of the spirit” in 1963. Though this connection is far from crucial to
her main premise, it ‘hit home’ with me because of my personal history in the
heart of the Midwest.
When the United States
began its Westward expansion, women were crucial in the process. In order to make permanent their
establishments, communities and ‘civilization,’ as well as people, had to be
spread to the West. Unlike the
exploration parties and single men who came before, women brought
stability. Women were the ones who
created farms, ranches, churches, schools, and everything else that American
society demanded. As Friedan points out,
“these women were respected and self-respecting members of a society,” and “independence,
responsibility and self-confidence, self-discipline and courage, freedom and
equality were part of the American character for both men and women.” This was not only true during the first wave
of settlers, but it continued on as the territories became communities, towns,
cities, and states. During the ‘First Wave’ feminist movement,
the West ‘pioneered’ the right to vote. Even universities, like the University of Nebraska, were coeducational from the beginning.
With this history of women’s empowerment
and inclusion so early on, it would seem that the Midwest ought to
have advanced further than most other places in the U.S. At the least, they should be on par with some of the most gender-progressive places. Alas, this is not the case. Contrary to their gender-inclusive history. States in the Midwest, especially the "Heartland," have some of the most gender-regressive policies in the U.S. From reproductive autonomy to work-family policy, the Midwest is lagging behind the rest of the country. Most recently (yesterday), when the House of Congress voted to pass the new, inclusive, Violence Against Women Act (VAWA) all of my Nebraskan representatives voted No.
How is it that the states which led the way for women to redefine themselves and femininity itself are now restricting their women to the most confining roles possible? Where did the regressive strain in Midwestern politics come from? And how can we reassert the independence, strength, and innovation of Midwestern women?
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As a post-script note: I would like to explicitly acknowledge
that this perspective is Europeanist: the very things that made
the pioneering women ‘strong’ and ‘progressive’ were done to the detriment of Native
peoples. (The lands that my ancestors colonized belonged to the Pawnee, Ponca, and Omaha.) I wish that I could address this issue from an inclusive perspective, but my knowledge of indigenous peoples – their histories
and realities – is only just beginning, and my analysis would likely do more harm than justice. If you want a brief,
but insightful, article on Native American feminism, this is at least a start at unpacking the complexity. Hopefully in the future I will know more and be able to fully explore the issue while radically checking my white, colonizer privilege.
You're right. Nebraska's vote presents a paradox of then and now. I felt the same tension when I lived in Wyoming, where women voted in the territory before women in the U.S. were enfranchised, and yet violence against women was a way of life and family policies didn't support women and children. I appreciate your complication of the history of strong women with material consequences of colonization. Andrea Smith's call for a revolution beyond identity politics complicates feminism in a similar way. But then, when states vote no on human rights legislation framed as a woman's issue, I feel torn. Do we or don't we need categories to identify gendered problems?
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