Being a Woman in a Patriarchy Can Be Hard. Here’s What You Can Do to Help.

I’ve spent the past couple of months writing and speaking about the pain that is often caused by institutional patriarchy, which again, just so we’re on the same page, is defined as:

pa·tri·arch·y ˈpātrēˌärkē/noun

1. a system of society or government in which the father or eldest male is head of the family and descent is traced through the male line.
2. a system of society or government in which men hold the power and women are largely excluded from it.

My view is that this system is damaging to both women and men, that it is unjust, and that it is a cultural vestige with roots not in divine mandate, but in human tradition. Whether or not readers agree with me on all these points, there has certainly been consensus that our Church family does not want its women to suffer, and the overwhelming response has been an outpouring of empathy on the part of men, and validation on the part of women. And from both genders, I keep hearing “so what can we do about it?”

Many brilliant and compassionate people have spoken and written on this topic already; here are my suggestions.

Men:

If you are the Prophet or one of the Twelve Apostles, you are the only ones who are in the position to ascend Mount Sinai to receive the tablets, to approach the Lord in the Holy of Holies, to stand on the tower and proclaim “thus saith the Lord.” You stand at the head of a religion whose defining feature is an open Heaven — a live line of communication with a God who will “…yet reveal many great and important things pertaining to the Kingdom of God.” Joseph Smith described that his revelations were often in response to his questions. None of you are women, so if you are not doing so already, I wonder if you would please take some time to imagine what it might feel like to be a woman, and ask God the questions that a woman might ask.

If you are a General or Local Authority in any position where you are trying to help a woman who is in pain, please believe me that the following will really help:

1. Listen with the intent to understand. My husband says that when he hears a problem, he wants to fix it. For the first many years of our marriage he had a really hard time believing that all I needed was for him to just hear me — he is a goal-oriented person, and just listening made him feel lost and antsy and useless. Then he discovered that there is a goal — to understand me as completely as possible. Instead of answering back with stories from his own life, ideas for solutions, or arguments about why my problem isn’t really a problem, he follows up with additional questions. He repeats what he heard me say to make sure he understands. Then he digs out his list of empathic phrases (I’ve told him that “that sounds hard” has worn out from overuse, so he has to think of another one, but at least he’s trying). Listening solely with the intent to understand communicates two things: first, that you respect the person enough to take her seriously, and second, that you believe she is strong enough to solve her own problems. Additionally, this gets you off the hook from having to come up with a solution! Which is good, because you can’t fix it. (Obviously, if there is a specific situation where problem-solving is called for, then address it. And if you have done something to offend her, then say you’re sorry. But if she is suffering from the general malaise that often accompanies systemic marginalization, just listen.)
2. Be humble enough to acknowledge your own privilege. I spoke with a friend and stake leader recently about a frustration I have with a policy that affects my family, and with some exasperation he told me to be patient, that they were working on it — didn’t I remember that one meeting? I replied that no, I was not present at that meeting because I was not invited, and I was not invited because it was a meeting for priesthood-holders, and I do not have the priesthood. “You get to walk through the doorway without noticing it because it’s open to you,” I continued, “But after you walk through, the door shuts, and I am left outside.” Another way of putting this is sociologist Michael Kimmel’s succinct observation, “privilege is invisible to those who have it.” Priesthood leaders, please take a moment to look behind you to see if you are walking through doors that are shut to others. No one is saying that it’s your fault or that you asked for this privilege. But it’s gracious to acknowledge it. And it also enables you to move on to step 3.
3. See if there are doors that can be opened to women without breaking the current rules. Invite women to planning and leadership meetings. Hold a meeting or forum on women’s issues where you invite them to share their thoughts. Don’t go over female auxiliary leaders’ heads, even though you can. Read Neylan McBain’s book Women at Church: Magnifying LDS Women’s Local Impact for many other practical ways to include women.

If you are a husband, father, grandfather, brother, son, grandson, or male friend, please observe points number one and two above, especially point number one. Listen with the intent to understand. Take a step back and really try to imagine what it might feel like to be a girl. Suppress your urge to dismiss her pain. Give her a hug and say the words that my ten-year-old daughter once deemed the nicest thing anyone can ever say: “that’s understandable.” It will go a long way. In addition:

1. Observe the Golden Rule. If you wouldn’t like a certain behavior, chances are, she doesn’t like it either. Can you think of a time that someone treated you condescendingly? Perhaps withheld information from you because they wanted to “protect” you? Pulled rank on you based on something arbitrary?
2. Be an ally. Speak up against sexism when you hear it. One time a young, hip bishop in one of our wards made an insulting comment about women, elbowing my husband with a knowing glance, like “Am I right?” And my husband just said, “Naw, man, that’s not cool.” Standing up in those daily interactions is perhaps the most important way to change culture. Human beings are always sending and receiving messages about what’s socially acceptable: send a firm egalitarian message wherever you go.

Women:

1. Know your stuff. Learn about History. Not just Church History, though that is critical. Learn about US History and World History — in order to understand where we are, we have to know how we got here. For example, I’m currently in a History class exploring ancient texts, and last week’s assignment included passages from the New Testament. In passing, my professor mentioned that Jesus’ personal ministry was as a teacher, not the organizer of a formal church. While my mind was busy realizing that he was right and cringing about all those cup-stacking object lessons I had taught, I almost missed the next part, where he explained that Christianity was a mystic sect for the first three-hundred years; it was Emperor Constantine who created the patriarchal hierarchy in order to package and disseminate his new religion to the Roman empire. The structure of pope, archbishops, cardinals, etc., was modeled after the structure of the Roman army. I literally gasped “WHAT??!!” and flopped face-down onto my desk. If “we believe in the same organization that existed in the primitive church,” then this information has huge implications regarding our own patriarchal church structure… and is only one of many head-explosions I’ve experienced as I’ve started to make a serious study of History. Knowledge truly is power, and even if that power only extends to me and my daughters, it’s still worth it (though that kind of energy rarely stays contained).
2. Know yourself. Go into the forest alone and listen to what God tells you. Joan of Arc said she heard voices telling her that she needed to save her country. This was the 1420’s and Joan was a teenager, a peasant, and a girl — the very lowest level of society. And yet despite all odds, she accomplished the work God gave her to do. What is your work? Do it.
3. Speak up. I have heard from so many women lately who have shared their brilliant minds and compassionate hearts with me… but many of these conversations have a timid, whispered quality to them, as if these women are afraid of being found out. Be brave, sisters. You have important things to say, and if you keep your insights inside your own heads or only share them in secret Facebook groups, you are impoverishing the broader conversation by withholding your contribution. Write that essay and submit it. Send that email to your Stake President. Make that comment in Gospel Doctrine. Have that conversation with your husband. There’s a haunting line in the HBO documentary John Adams when Abigail Adams is asked by her young daughter why the men get to go off and have adventures while the women are stuck doing menial tasks at home. Abigail replies, “because we let them.” Regardless of how we got into this situation, no one is going to get us out of it but us. So square your shoulders, crank up the Sara Bareilles, and be brave.

As Eugene England famously observed, ours is The Church of Jesus Christ, but it is also of Latter-Day Saints. The Church is to a large extent what we make of it. If we listen humbly, learn honestly, and speak bravely, all the while persisting in seeing each other charitably, we transcend the illusions of hierarchies and become more saintly together. This is what we can do, right now, to help minister to some of those in pain in our midst. And if we call ourselves both saints and followers of Jesus Christ, what could be more important?