A Woman’s place is…in the woodshed?

Women and girls had an interesting role in the commune, it was very much one of servitude. Right down to brushing out the luxurious or not so luxurious Jesus-like locks of their men.  They were meant to be seen and not heard, to be meek and submissive, always deferring to the men in their lives. All the stereotypical women’s work was of course theirs to complete as well. This included child care, cooking and housework. All of these things were not easy for many of the women who lived in the very rustic locations such as “The Ranch” which was an outlying property in the country with very scarce amenities. Many members lived in tents and rudimentary shacks, some with running water, very few had electricity.

I think this role may have been easy for my mother’s generation to accept, their own mothers did much the same thing as feminism was just beginning to blossom in the main stream. Unfortunately they were modeling this submissive behavior to their young daughters as well.

Ironically, in addition to women’s work, it seemed to be common for them to be responsible for things that typically a man would be expected to do. They would haul heavy buckets of water for housekeeping and bathing, chopping and hauling firewood, and other such physically difficult labor, and with all likelihood, a baby on their hip and a toddler in tow.  This however I am grateful for! The commune women were a strong bunch, tanned, toned, and ironically independent as running the basic needs of the household would often left to be her responsibility.

This brings me to my teen years and the things I knew a “girl” was capable of doing. My very earliest job, along with my female peers was bucking hay and firewood. This included heaving the bales of hay into the trailer as it rolled through the field, and chopping and loading cords of wood into the back of a huge dump truck. And I enjoyed it! The smell of the hay, the chainsaw, the sap of fresh cut wood, it was all very satisfying. We did these jobs every summer so we could buy school cloths. We did not grow up a bunch of soft handed women, that’s for sure.

I am grateful to have learned, however oddly it was presented to me, that I did not have to be the weaker sex. While yes, it was modeled to us to be meek and submissive; on the other hand rather unintentionally, we were also shown we could be strong and independent. I find myself to play both roles and feel like I have found a balance in my own life as to when I want to fill in the “woman’s role” and when I would just rather not. I definitely make myself heard, and I am the first to admit I will dig in my heels if I feel a man is telling me what to do. (Or anyone for that matter thanks to a fairly prominent independent streak).

Ultimately I was given a choice for which I am grateful for. I do miss chopping wood…but not that much, and if my husband had hair to brush, I would be sure to let him know he can do his own grooming thank you very much.