This is kinda personal essayish, but I'd have to develop it more before I'd call it something worthy of throwing onto my writing blog. I was just reflecting on my experiences in the 6-month job assignment I recently finished up in the leadership training program I'm enrolled in at work. It's more about the question of what it means to be a Christian Woman though...
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Sometimes, I would stand in the middle of the work yard, surrounded by men much older than me, and I would listen to their gruff voices cursing and yelling and laughing. I would look down at my nondescript blue work shirt, my jeans, and my torn-up brown steel-toed boots and I would wonder what it means to be a woman. There wouldn’t be much time to think though because there was always something to take care of, and I would continue walking to where my crews were so that I could give them the work for the day.
The men that I supervised were all older than me and all more experienced than me. Me, this fumbling kid just out of college, this novice that knew nothing about electric and how to run a utility, this
girl who was standing alone in a man’s job. But it was
my job, and when I accepted a place in the leadership development program Con Edison offers, I accepted the chance that I could be standing exactly where I was, managing union field crews to maintain the electric distribution system.
Leadership. What does that mean? Or more exactly, what does that mean for a woman who is trying to work hard with the gifts God has given her and be a good Christian at the same time?
There was always that moment of tenseness, of stress, every morning when I gave the work out to the crews, because usually, there was fighting. Oh, was there fighting. Itwasn ’t fighting born out of any dislike between me and the guys on a personal level. Actually, we got along quite well and we could sit around talking comfortably for hours. The fighting was a power struggle. They were fighting for control over what work would get done and how much. They were fighting for me to submit.
But my job wasn’t to submit. I had work goals to reach and a manager to report to and demands from other departments. My job was to make sure things got done and to direct the work force to do it. So I fought back. I worked as hard as I could to gain their respect and to show I respected them, to develop a team and to balance listening to their advice with making my own decisions. My manager praised me, my crews learned to accept me, and I knew that I was steadily improving.
But when the day ended and I was home, stumbling upstairs into my room, kicking my boots off and falling onto my bed, I was emotionally drained. There was nothing left of me and I felt tattered, like sandpaper had been rubbed across me all the way through. Everyday, at least once, I thought of quitting, and I’d stay up late at night, refusing to go to bed because I knew the sooner I did, the sooner I’d have to wake up and go to work again. I felt… lost. I felt unnatural, twisted, perverse… wrong.
I wrestled with the question: what is true femininity? And then there was the further question of, what should I be doing with my life as a single woman? Because I was terrified, terrified that I was taking myself farther and farther away from the goal of marriage and a family. Terrified that I was developing into a woman of the world and not a woman of God.
The way I saw it, there were two paths. One involved the development of my talents as an engineer, continuing the role of a career-minded woman working hard to be the best she could be at her job. The other involved developing the attributes of a Christian wife in preparation for the day when I do have a family, learning to submit and to take care of a home and to raise kids. I felt like I was following that first path and I knew I couldn’t ignore the opportunities God has given me (the way things worked out with getting my job, I’m sure God intended for me to have it—but that’s a story for another time), so Ididn ’t see much other choice. I also knew, though, that this path was taking me in the opposite direction of the other one. Now, I’m no long jumper, and when the time comes that I do find a husband, there’s no way I’m going to fly off of one path onto the other without some sort of transition and a few bruises.
I’ve always wanted a family and I’ve always been, and still am, willing to give up any career for it.
But how could I prepare for a family of my own and busy myself with the challenges offered by my job at the same time? I was being torn in half.
The idea of Godly femininity has always been problematic for me. I guess I’ve always been a bit of a tomboy, at least in my tastes. I obsessed over comic books in high school, love Star Wars and Star Trek, went to a mostly male school to study the male-dominated field of mechanical engineering, have always had mostly guys as friends, and will happily sit around watchinganime for hours.
Recently, while trying to figure out what being a woman means, I read a booklet Mr. Meredith had written in 1973 for Worldwide entitled, “True Womanhood.” Here’s a quote.
“The warm and responsive woman who doesn’t try to conquer or rule the man has an inner serenity and security not found in the aggressive, raucous, competitive type of woman. She is glad to be a woman.”
I thought back to my “power struggles” with the guys at work. I thought about the definite lack of inner serenity and security inside of me.
Another quote: “Automatically feeling tender and yielding toward her husband, she will naturally walk more softly, talk more softly and dress in a more soft, feminine and attractive way for her husband. Frankly, any truly feminine woman will dress, fix her hair, wear perfume and accessories and so conduct herself in all these ways in a manner to please her husband.”
Granted, I’m not married yet, or even dating anyone for that matter, but I couldn’t help looking down at my slightly-muddy work boots in the corner. I definitely wasn’t walking softly in those. And talking softly? I’m from Brooklyn. It’s like, in my blood or something to be loud.
I read that booklet and oh, was I confused. More so than ever.
At one point, I was so frustrated that I asked God why He had given me this job in the first place. Why did He give me talents in things that tend to go along with traditionally male jobs? Why did He make me so that I’d rather take apart a car engine than sew a pillow?
I started asking several of my male church friends what they thought of being a Christian woman in today’s world. I remember Juan’s comment of, “Wow, you girls have it hard.” I appreciated his sympathy and his perspective on the things we discussed, but hecouldn’t offer any easy solution. There is no easy solution.
Finally, I spoke to Mr. McNair about it. It was funny how that worked out. We were both flying back to New Jersey after Julie’s wedding in Texas, and we happened to be on the same flight (total coincidence). The plane was delayed an hour and a half. So we talked, and eventually the topic turned toward my job dilemma.
God answers prayers in good time. I didn’t know it, but that talk with Mr. McNair was exactly what I needed, because he brought up a good point. I was looking at my life as two paths spread out in front of me. On the one hand, there was engineer/career/manager Rachael. On the other hand, was wife/mommy/family Rachael. But why does it have to be one extreme or the other? The are more than just two options, and in my limited perspective I was missing that fact that there is so much more to choose from. Mr.McNair ’s point was this: the talents I have don’t have to just apply to a career or a job and nothing else. They are talents God meant for me to learn to use in raising a family too. God gave me more technical, male-associated talents, but thatdoesn’t mean they can’t be integrated into being a house-mom. They can be, but I’ll just have to be creative about how I do it.
The Proverbs 31 woman went out and bought and sold. She went to the market and made crafts. She worked on projects. We weren’t designed to have a work self and a home self. That would be like having a church self and a world self. We were designed to incorporate the two into one. One body, one spirit, one mind. There needs to be a synergy between the goals I set for myself at my job and the goals I set in my personal life.
So I finally understood. I finally understood what I’m supposed to be doing in this single-woman period of my life. I have a question I need to answer, and as I answer it, the two paths I once saw for my life will merge into one. The question is this: how do I develop as a Christian woman while incorporating the natural talents God has given me?
And that was all I needed. A goal. To know what I was developing in myself. Knowing that made work just a little easier. Instead of power struggles, I tried to find different ways to work with the guys I supervised. I thought of myself as their support, and their helper, and as their guide. When times came that I still had to assert authority, I tried to use it as a learning experience, to see how it affected both me and the men under me. To learn why that isn’t the best way for things to be (and oh boy, do I understand now). I’m a pretty strong-willed, determined person and who knows, maybe I might have wanted to fight for control with my husband had I not had this experience. I’ve learned from it though why that doesn’t work. I’ve learned how it makes me feel (bad) and how it wears me down (I was always exhausted). I’ve learned how it makes the man fight back harder and how it makes him lose heart. Hard lessons, but ones I needed.
I’m still learning and I’m still not clear on it all. There’s a lot more to this story, but to tell it all would take so much more time. I just wanted to share a piece of it. As an update on my life, this job that I described is over now. It was only supposed to last 6-months, after which I was to be transferred somewhere else in the company to help me learn more about the overall business. Now I sit in a desk in an engineering department and I am only responsible for my own work. It’s peaceful, fulfilling, and I feel like something inside of me is healing that had been battered down before. I can’t really put into words what it is and this may sound crazy, but I feel more like a woman again.
And you know what? It might be in my head, but I think maybe I’m walking and talking just a little bit more softly.
