For All Our Daughter’s, I Am Scared

The other day, you ran up behind me on the beach unexpectedly. You had run probably a quarter-mile or more, all alone, from your mother to where I was. We talked. We joked. We played. Just like we always do — though, just for a few minutes this time.

I then watched you run away.

The beach was nearly empty that day — typical off-season.

What people were on the beach looked perplexed. A little girl, all alone, running down the beach.

They turned. They looked. They assumed. They judged.

I, on the other hand, had my eye on you the whole time — time that, for several minutes, seemed to stand still. The process would continue back for forth several more times.

You were so free — you’re always so free. It is just who you are.

But the truth is, as a girl, from even before birth, you’re never free.

As a dad that day, especially in a tumultuous political climate present-day, my mind raced. It has done that a lot recently. Not just for your sake and for your future, but for your mother’s.

You seemed so free. I know you felt it — not a care in the world. Trusting and free-spirited as always. Just you and the open wind. A wide open beach. No barriers in front of you. A flat runway of sand.

No matter how well I try to protect you or prepare you, the world ahead of you will not be that easy — that free.

And for that, I am scared.

I am terrified.

I wish I could sit here and say that I don’t know what the future looks like, but I do.

I wasn’t even supposed to have you — we weren’t even supposed to have you.

You have changed my life and my future in ways unimaginable.

But I cannot — despite trying to my death — change the course of your life and your future simply because you are a female.

The system is designed against you. And I fear it is only becoming more so.

We, as a nation, are regressing. Not that we ever truly progressed.

We [still] live in a society that is blatantly misogynistic. Often intentionally.

It is harmful. It is wrong. And you will experience sexism and have to “constantly validate” yourself for your entire life.

Sexism is still so prevalent. It is a slap to the face.

As a feminist dad, it is a slap to my soul — my core.

As a feminist husband, it is a slap to my heart — painful to watch.

You and your mom have both been told, from an early age, you can do anything that a boy can. And you can. You’re just as smart (if not smarter). You’re just as capable (if not more capable). You’re just as determined (if not more determined).

You insert the descriptor here, you can both accomplish it just as much as I or your brother can — if not better, quicker.

The issue is opportunity.

You’re not afforded the chance. And even when you are, you are given the opportunity reluctantly. You are looked down upon — simply because you don’t have a penis.

Your mom knows that all too well in academic medicine.

You aspire to be like her.

You will find a will and a way to get there.

And when you do, because you will, I have no doubt that you will have to explain to people multiple times that you are not the nurse, you are not the dietitian, you are not the assistant.

Just like your mom, you will make less than your male counterparts. Your black and brown friends, peers, and colleagues will fare even worse, sadly.

You are only six. And at six, you have witnessed your mom be attacked and vilified. You have watched her be shunned. You have watched her be ignored. You have watched her be silenced. You have watched her be constructively fired.

You are only six — a young girl.

She is your role model.

She is who you see of yourself when you look into the mirror.

She is who you look to the most in this world, as a woman, to give you hope that one day you, too, can make a difference.

I empathize with how you feel watching her be attacked — her struggle — at the behest of others.

I will always stand with you when those of your sex are attacked, because you are just that, being attacked — all issues that affect women, including women’s reproductive rights, are under attack.

Right now. Today.

And I am not sure we can change. At least not in my lifetime. You, too, will be maligned, belittled, harassed, insulted.

But just for a moment, as you ran back down the beach towards your mom the other day, I imagined a different future for you than that above. A strong woman. A woman with compassion. A woman unafraid to take on a bully. A woman without obstacles or barriers between you and where you were going.

Just for a moment I wasn’t scared.

But just for a moment, because I am scared.

I am terrified.

Too many of you are speaking, and no one is listening.

And your futures are at stake.