"I think things were better before women could vote," she said as she eased herself into the chair and awaited her ride.
I abruptly stopped and looked at her, scanning my elderly client's face for a sign of jest. I saw none.
"Come again?" I asked.
"I think the world was better off before women had the right to vote," she repeated with complete sincerity.
I took a seat near her and chewed the words that initially came to mind.
"Why do you feel that way?" I mustered.
"I remember my father talking about suffrage, and I recall a few things from those early years when it was new that women could vote. I hear women talk about voting for one man over another. When asked why they voted that way, they said they liked his tie. That's no reason to vote for someone. If they don't have good knowledge, they shouldn't vote at all," she explained.
"You don't believe every woman votes in that manner, do you?" I probed.
"Not all, I suppose," she answered, "I just think things were better then. To let the men handle it."
With that, the door opened and her daughter appeared, ending our visit. But the conversation was far from over in my head.
Her comments connected with those recently told me by another woman who opined that she didn't think women should be firefighters. She said her husband was a retired fireman, and she didn't like the idea of him needing help and having to rely on a woman with inferior strength.
Her husband, who sat beside her, said he didn't know about that because he'd seen a woman lift a ladder to the roof with greater ease than some men. His wife remained unmoved.
I've never been one to burn my bra or march the streets over disparate treatment based on my gender. I waged my battles more quietly, like leaving a law clerk position at which I excelled after learning a fellow male classmate with equal or less experience had been offered $8 an hour to my $6. When I confronted the attorney, he said, "That's the way the world works." This was 1997.
To this day, I'm still occasionally referred to as a "lady lawyer." There are worse monikers, so I dismiss it and curtsy. My hardest fought and most openly waged battles occurred during my legal work at our state capitol -- the most notorious incident being one in which I was the sole female in a room of 40 men, who made it well known I was unwelcome. After refusing to yield my position, a legislator and a lobbyist from separate sides came to the table, and, together, we hammered out the constitutional amendment that would eventually become law.
But those men came to the table. Something not often addressed is how much of gender discrimination is actually driven by other women.
Women are hard on one another. Women in authority often expect more from other women, demand women prove themselves beyond what they would a man or compete and compare each other -- rather than mentor and help each other succeed.
I was pleased to be a volunteer for the Bentonville Film Festival -- an event focused on influencing gender balance in programming. I was proud of our town and its people and the conversations that took place. I hope those conversations expand and move from an "us versus them" dialogue to an "us and us" exchange.
I don't take the ability to vote for granted. I can't speak to how good the world was before half of the populous had a voice. But I can't help but think what voice we would have if we spent more time building one another up than tearing one another down.
And helping each other pick out ties.
NAN Our Town on 05/12/2016