When Patriarchy is Good Enough
I remember the first time a woman asked me if I really understood what an awesome husband I have. In her experience, men abused substances, men left, men took no responsibility, and men didn’t honor women. In contrast, my husband was there, really there, leading, taking his role of husband and father seriously. The obvious difference that stood out about him: His participation in the Mormon Church.
Over the years, I’ve watched missionaries convert men who came into the church building in dirty jeans and scuffed boots, carrying the permanent scent of cigarettes. After baptism, they transformed into clean-cut guys wearing a modest suit, free of cigarettes, and adorned with purpose, leadership, and responsibility. Some men are literally baptized one week, made a deacon the next, then ordained as priests the week after. They gain more institutional authority in a couple of weeks than a woman can in her lifetime.
Boys from a young age can embrace their calling in life and begin preparing for a clear future that promises leadership, respect, and even reverence. At twelve, a boy begins his journey into an elite experience, where his presence is necessary and his role admired. He’ll be credited for being a better man, best in some ways. Any societal or personal costs that come with this type of manhood will be discredited, undermined, bartered, and ignored.
And, truly, who doesn’t want boys and men to have purpose, potential, and authority? Who would deny this of their husbands, sons, fathers, and brothers? What woman would choose less for men and, consequently, less for herself?
While I understand, and sometimes internalize, these arguments, I can’t help but ask, “Why are there only two options for men?” Do we have to settle for patriarchy and its negative impacts on women, children, and – yes – even men because it’s the best we can do? When it comes to encouraging men to be great, must we settle between the greater of two evils?
Unfortunately, faced with this question, many answer “yes.” Some say they wouldn’t mind change; they’d even support it. What they will not do is jeopardize what is good enough in response for something that is ultimately better for all, but less exclusive and clearly beneficial for some.
And, for me, this good enough, this acceptance of less for women, of internalized misogyny, of rigid ideas that diminish and exclude, this idea of the best we can do, is something I can no longer accept. This is the truth that darkens everything in my faith tradition and breaks my heart anew every Sunday if I’m not careful to protect it.
It’s ironic, then, that I see that same faith tradition as creating the me that refuses to accept good enough.
