Grandparents. Family. Feminism.

Growing up, it’s not at all that I disliked my mother’s side of the family or didn’t have a good time with them, but I usually felt as though I was much more like my father’s side of the family. Whether in conversation or areas of interest or worldview, there just seemed to be more common ground. I was completely surprised this morning to find myself in conversation with my maternal grandmother about gender roles. It came up when she was talking about the importance of trust and a lack of jealousy in relationships, and then we started talking about people considering men “natural leaders,” at least on the emotional or spiritual level, and about chivalry. I was pleasantly surprised to find that we agreed with each other about nearly everything that was said: that men don’t necessarily have to be leaders of any kind in a romantic/married relationship; that gender doesn’t necessarily determine how one approaches parenting; that men and women can both benefit equally from the (gendered) guidelines for relationships given in the Bible because of the way culture has changed since it was written; that when a guy’s man pride is bruised by a woman’s unwillingness to be subordinate, it means he needs to learn some respect, not that the woman needs to “submit in love;” that we, as women, should respect and oblige men when they act chivalrously towards us, but that it is often more annoying or insulting than beneficial.

I have never had a conversation about gender roles with anyone in my family that actually agreed with me about this – on nearly any of those points – so I was caught totally off-guard. At one point I started wondering whether she might just be trying to be agreeable. But then about ten minutes later we picked up the conversation about childhood discipline (about which I posted in Apostrophe) and we agreed to disagree there, and I was satisfied that the preceding conversation was authentic.

Although I was surprised at first, the more I think about it, the more it makes sense that she would believe those things. Generally speaking, my grandfather was a very sweet, docile person. He was a farm boy and a teacher. He worked with children, he loved fruit, he was happy and relatively simple and good. My grandmother was an accountant. She worked for nearly twenty years before having children, fourteen or fifteen of which were as a married woman. She is strong-willed and firm, defiant and individualistic. Although she isn’t masculine in any way, she doesn’t easily talk about deep emotions; she is from the Modern age, not the Postmodern. But it’s not as though she’s cold or hard about things, either. She absolutely adores pets and cute little animals, she likes pretty scenery and flowers and lekker dishes with lots of butter and cream. She’s always come off much more complex to me than Oupa did. It makes a lot of sense that she would be more progressive than the rest of my family regarding gender roles.

For many years, I saw almost nothing of myself in my maternal grandmother. This is the first year I’ve begun to see the differences between me and my paternal grandmother and the similarities between me and my maternal grandmother. I absolutely inherited my grandmother’s stubbornness and individualism and realism. She says things as they are; so do I. My paternal grandmother (and through her very strong influence, most of my father’s side of the family) is much more influenced by British culture than my mother’s; things are more proper and courteous and respectable. My maternal grandmother strikes me as much more free of custom and culture. She doesn’t come off as a matriarch nearly as much as my paternal grandmother, but rather just a grandmother, no more and no less. I don’t mean to say that either way is necessarily good or bad, but that I’m beginning to see my Ouma Marie’s tendencies reflected in my character. On my father’s side of the family, it’s much more the tendency to approve and disapprove and to be recognized for your achievements (or, to search for approval, depending on how you put it) by family members; on my mother’s, I can’t remember a single instance in which I’ve felt the need to prove myself. On my father’s side of the family, there is a strong family legacy, tight family cohesion, and great respect for familial bonds. My mother’s (immediate) side of the family is less concerned with family as a lineage or a social group, and more for the relationships we have with each other as they are, in and of themselves. I feel no great duty to like them or have relationships with them, but I do; on the other side, I do feel a duty to keep touch and get to know them, but luckily, I do like all of them, too.

I really like having two sides of the family to compare and contrast, so that I can synthesize their strengths in my own life and form my own Philosophy of Family, if you will. (For the sake of my own conscience, I insert an explanation that I don’t mean to use my experience to justify the notion that it’s necessary for blood lines to exist in families, or that single parents are inferior to married parents, or that your parents’ family determines how you raise your own family, or anything of that sort. Families that work differently from mine have important stories, too, and I trust that whatever makes them unique has benefits that aren’t present in mine. If you think it’s dumb that I just interrupted myself to make a big defense against an assumed response, just ignore me and finish the essay.) I don’t see either side of my family as superior or inferior. I’m not going to compare apples and oranges. But they each have strengths and weaknesses that I notice and can identify and take advantage of, so that I can learn and grow. Family is important in that way: it can be used as such a positive tool of community and belonging and legacy. Especially given our circumstances, I am so blessed to have had the opportunity to be a part of mine.