However you feel about Hillary, it’s hard to deny that she represents far more than a Democratic bid for the presidency at every possible level.
Love her or hate her, love her and hate her, even just feel a little lukewarm (Okay, noone feels that way), whatever your inclination, Hillary, and how she is treated in the media, as a candidate, by women, by everyone, mirrors back how uncomfortable or comfortable we are–as a nation, as women–with women’s leadership at the highest levels.
While certainly the controversial nature of her candidacy in itself is a variable in this election and in the discourse around her, we would be wise to truly ask ourselves–consistently and throughout her candidacy (and potential presidency)–if that is really the issue when we are speaking, reading or learning about her.
If we are truly talking about Hillary–or if we are talking about women’s leadership or about Hillary as a woman candidate. It is an important distinction, and one we would all be well-served to ask ourselves, whatever side of the aisle we sit on.
Over the past few weeks, a number of articles and blogs have brought this home, raising issues not only about Hillary, but about women’s leadership in general.
The Washington Post article, Gatekeepers of Hillaryland, described her campaign, and its primarily female cadres of staffers and advisors self-titled as "Hillaryland."
AlterNet featured a piece showcasing "What Women See When They See Hillary" that discusses how some feminists feel about Hillary, and how, and why, feelings have shifted over time.
Feministing ran a post on "Female candidates and women’s issues" on the double standard that impacts women leaders, who can be labeled as too soft for focusing on women’s issues, or too "mannish" if they focus on things like national security.
Reinvention featured a post along the same lines, addressing three "damned if you do, damned if you don’t" contradictions that face women leaders in business–and certainly apply to those in politics.
On yet another dichotomous note, Feministing then describes how "Hillary faces dowdy/whore dichotomy," asking whether America can tolerate female leaders and politicians who flaunt their feminine, sexual sides.
All of this begs a few questions:
1. One female blogger notes: "This Washington Post article calls her campaign Hillaryland. That name doesn’t bode well with me. I smell sexism. You never hear them saying Guillianiworld or Romneyville. Hillary’s campaign is groundbreaking. The media needs to show it some respect."
I find myself agreeing, because I think she’s right.
But then I remember that Hilaryland is self-titled, not media appropriated. The campaign is calling itself this, and, as many are speculating, possibly pitching articles like these to soften and humanize Hillary.
I want to know why. Because it seems rather, well, frankly, un-Hillary-esque in terms of her actual leadership style.
Perhaps getting back to that whole damned if you do, damned if you don’t issue referenced above.
Maybe by boxing Hillary’s campaign away into an image conjuring a happy, safe place, like, say, Disneyland–even if just through language–the campaign is thinking that we’ll all be a little more comfortable with the idea of a Hillary remaining within some semblance of a contained, private, secret space. Even a home.
But, at what cost? Will keeping Hillary tied to the concept of home lead her to the ultimate one, the White House?
Because generally, do we expect that kind of thing of candidates? That softening, humanizing, a return to the hearth to prove their validity to lead?
Of male candidates it seems we typically ask the opposite, for military service, decisiveness, strength.
2. Which leads me to my second question: When will women be able to stand alone as leaders, separate from their being a woman? To be seen for their own unique leadership styles, rather than as emblems of the typical perceived framework of women’s leadership?
We don’t discuss Barack or Bush within a framework of how their being men–and being advised primarily by men–influences their decision-making.
So with Hillary, we are then choosing not a leader among leaders, but between two options–women’s leadership and men’s. More than likely, I think, a false choice.
3. Largely because I’m not sure that women’s leadership even exists. Yes, women lead. Yes, women can and should hold power.
But is there a monolithic mandate on women’s leadership and how it operates?
We don’t discuss male leadership as an overarching theme of male leaders. We view them as individual leaders.
So, on that note, is it fair, effective or wise to ever consider "women’s leadership" as a concept?
4. I’m not sure, but I do know that one bothersome offshoot of this occurs in how Hillary is treated in the media, well documented by WIMN’s Voices in their post, "When Does Wife Trump Senator?" which documents how often the media refers to Hillary as the wife of the former president (and often, I might add, in light of needing his support.), and leaving off her title as "Senator" and, often, even her last name.
Meaning that we’re more likely to perceive her first as a women, and secondly as a leader.
5. Which leads to the central question that surrounds Senator Clinton’s candidacy for me–and, I sense, for a lot of women:
Do I, as a woman, as an advocate for women’s leadership, rights and equality, evaluate her based on her leadership alone, and compare her, genderless, just as I would any of the other candidates?
Or do I evaluate her based on the fact that she’s a woman, and what her election would mean for women generally, and for women leaders?
I ran across this statement, from a male blogger, commenting on the article: "One upside of a Hillary presidency would be the totally unprecedented amount of women that would move into positions of real power. This can’t be discounted when considered the merits of Clinton’s campaign."
An undeniable truth.
So, my quandary is clear–because I want Senator Clinton to be evaluated on her own merits. As a leader among leaders, not as a woman among leaders, or as a chance we’re all taking that will reflect on every woman in this country, on every future bid for leadership or candidacy.
I’d like for her to just be a candidate, standing in line with other candidates, equal.
But at the same time, I know that’s ridiculous. She is clearly a woman, a woman candidate, a woman leader. Potentially the first at this level. And as such, is evaluated that way.
I’m left with the thought I always come back to, of sitting in villages in Africa, talking with young girls and women about the importance of role models. Of writing a calendar showing women as parliamentarians, journalists, doctors, judges.
So that the girls would know that it was possible, that they could reach for more. That it wasn’t bizarre, or weird, or strange for them to want these things. To expect them.
That it was normal.
And I think about my third grade teacher writing a note to my sister saying, "Maybe we’ll be able to vote for Lisa for president some day." (I was a terribly precocious third grader.)
And how she got that note when I was old enough to know how unlikely that was, because we weren’t there yet, because that was something for the future, for way off.
Something to talk about in terms not of "when" or "who" but in terms of debating how many years it might take, when the country might be ready, when it wouldn’t be bizarre, or strange for me, as a girl, to aspire to that.
And now, I think, much like it has already come to pass in other countries throughout the world (and, in recent news, India!), the future could really be now.
