Just a generation ago, most Mississippi women were facing an M.R.S. degree. "In 1969, graduating from Millsaps, your choice was to become a teacher or a nurse or go to grad school so that you could make more money as a teacher," Linda Montgomery explains. "It was always, 'Get a job that you can fall back on,' which meant in case your marriage didn't work out. It was, of course, assumed that you would get married."
Times have changed. As Sen. Gloria Williamson, D-Philadelphia, explains, women took on careers while their husbands were at war—"They had gotten a taste of it, and they liked it," Williamson growls—and started speaking up for themselves. Women now find it easier to attain careers—not as fallbacks, but as signature parts of their lives. Things are getting better, but the voice of Mississippi women is not yet as loud as it could be.
Montgomery is now president of the Women's Fund, a group operating as part of the Community Foundation of Greater Jackson, which raises money for non-profits aimed at aiding women and children. According to the Institute for Women's Policy Research, Mississippi ranks last for women with social and economic autonomy and reproductive rights. The state ranks in the lowest five for health and well-being and employment and earnings. Funding to address the needs of women and girls is scarce. Although more than $29 billion is given by Mississippians each year to philanthropic causes, less than 7 percent of all of these gifts go specifically to women's and girls' issues. Some attempts have been made to improve the state of women in Mississippi by the government, but funding has been a serious problem. The Legislature founded the Mississippi Commission on the Status of Women three years ago, but it has never received funding.
Many women are not aware of the challenges, Montgomery says, so the Women's Fund attempts to bring women together to understand the problems.
"We have been isolated from a lot of the problems, but now that we're finding out, we cannot allow them to continue," says Montgomery. "There are a lot of people who won't see it because they don't want to."
Raising money for women and children's issues has been easier than Montgomery initially had imagined. She began the Fund two years ago after noticing similar programs all over the country. At a Board of Trustees meeting, three women quickly donated a total of $100,000 to start the program. Since its inception, the group has raised over $300,000 for women and children.
"Women have never really felt empowered to speak up for themselves in Mississippi. They've played a secondary role to the men in their lives," Montgomery says.
It's Not About Men
To make things better for women, they must first be conscious of their own place, their own worth and roles. June Hardwick is more conscious of women's roles now that she's older. The 29-year-old single mother and law student at Mississippi College attended the historically black all-women's Spelman College in Atlanta.
"I became more conscious of womanism and feminism at Spelman College," Hardwick says. "I became more conscious of women's issues there, but I was not conscious of the women's plight fully then."
How does she define feminism? "A movement of like-minded men and women that help to raise people's consciousness about women's issues, to place the appropriate value of women's contribution in society," she asserts, never taking a second to think about her answer. "In a patriarchal society, anything feminine is devalued. It doesn't mean we hate men. That's too reactionary, that makes feminism too much about men."
In fact, feminism seems to often be about a woman's dual role as mother and career-holder. Hardwick is raising her 4-year-old son, Raja, to be a warrior. Hardwick wants Raja, whose name means happiness, to have a sense of history and passion. He is enrolled in Adhiambo, a private Afro-centric school in Jackson.
"He's in school while I'm in school," Hardwick explains. "He isn't deprived of anything. I am able to meet all of his needs on a shoestring budget. I don't even get caught up in being a single mother. I think about what I have to do, and I just do it."
Hardwick says she is his mother first, but it's important to her to get her law degree. Though she admits she didn't even want to go to college originally—her parents "made" her go—she now has plans to open up an entertainment company, complete with lawyers, managers and stylists, in honor of Raja's deceased father.
"For me it's easier because I'm in Mississippi," she says. "Having a support system is necessary, whether you're a single or married mother. A woman has to have the support of her community and family. It does take a village to raise a child."
Having that village might be harder than many women think, says Montgomery. Many younger mothers do not get the chance to further their education because they have no help in raising their children. "There used to be free childcare for mothers trying to get an education, but legislators just did away with that," she explains. "There is this condescension toward women who have children too young, and then the government tries to punish them by not helping to take care of their children."
Mothers who, like Hardwick, do work to attain the balance of being a mother and a worker do not receive the respect they deserve, says Ann Williams, a mother and forensic consultant in Jackson. "In Mississippi, as far as the middle class goes, women's jobs are to work full time, then come home and wait on the children, do laundry and wait on the husband," she says. "It's the man's role that hasn't changed. Women haven't gained more respect; they're just working twice as hard. Women need to get fed up with it."
Many younger women are already planning lives of careers and motherhood. Marley Braden, a 19-year-old sophomore at Millsaps College, can't wait to go on maternity leave and "hang out" with her kids. That's a long way away, of course—before she has children, she has to go to med school and get married. She wants to become a missionary doctor—alongside her goal of being a wonderful mother.
Though she wants to balance a career, Braden hates the condescension aimed at women who simply want to be mothers. The housewife depression described in Betty Friedan's seminal book, "The Feminine Mystique," has become expected at this point, she explains, noting that many find it unbelievable that women could be happy in a housewife situation. Consumerism also adds to the idea that housewives are lesser citizens.
"The more consumer-driven we are, the more emphasis is placed on how much someone can buy," she says. "If a woman is at home making no money, it's like she's not contributing."
Less Money Blues
Though it is easier for women to get jobs in almost any avenue than it was in the '60s, Hardwick says it's hard for many women to get out of the caretaker role. Many women seek jobs in nursing or teaching because the markets are easier for women to break into, and it upholds the caretaker role within which many women think they must remain.
"Mississippi is so traditional and conservative that it's acceptable for women to be teachers or nurses, but it's challenging for them to practice law, juggling being a wife, mother and attorney," Hardwick says.
Rep. May Whittington, D-Schlater, says that attitudes of what is acceptable for women have drastically changed, but this attitude change is not always reflected in pay rates and benefits for women. "The younger generation doesn't seem to have as much of that hang-up as my generation did. They are treated equal at home, so they go out thinking they're equal. Of course, this isn't always reflected in the corporate world," she notes.
Women who do manage to juggle these roles are often not rewarded with equitable pay rates. In Mississippi in 2002, women were only paid 77.1 percent of what men made, according to the Institute for Women's Policy Research.
Hardwick says this is ludicrous. "There is no reason that a woman should be paid less," she says. "As long as she is performing, which women do—they perform just as well as men. What is essential is productivity."
Braden agrees: "If a woman is better at a job, she should be hired. I don't agree with affirmative action, but women should be hired according to their skill."
Thou Shalt Not Be Heard
This lack of respect of women is also made manifest through religion, Hardwick says. Noting that religion, politics and culture are so intertwined in Mississippi, Hardwick says that many women may be acting out of a self-disrespect they find in certain churches or versions of the Bible: "Given the King James version of how women are de-emphasized, women read that version of the Bible and they internalize a view that is anti-woman. They just keep acting it out."
But Braden, a member of the Presbyterian Church of America, thinks that a secondary role for women in church is not disrespect. Braden, who is reading the New Testament in Greek, says the original language of parts of the Bible suggests women should be silent in church.
"To me, it's symbolic of Christ being over the church," she says. "I've seen it in practice, and it works well."
Braden says that many people misinterpret the idea of subservience upheld by many Christian denominations. "Women should be submissive to their own husbands, not just any guy walking around," she explains.
But many women are forced into violently submissive situations. Williams points to the use of the term "domestic violence" as something that quickly needs to be abolished. This term softens the reality of crimes like assault, murder and battery because society sees women as below their husbands. This devalued idea of women manifests itself often in the criminal-justice system, Williams says.
"You can look at statistics to see how well we are respected," she says. "There are several rapes a week in Jackson. Very few are prosecuted."
Blaming the Victim
Much of the misogyny that exists within the criminal justice system is nationwide, Williams says, but Mississippi seems to have a particular mishandling of cases involving women that could be ameliorated if more money was put into training and compensating officers better. As it is now, many officers do not show as much respect with women's cases.
Williams teaches an enrichment class at Millsaps College called "Armchair Detective" that instructs participants on basic forensic science and medicine, with an emphasis on serial murder. In her last class, women reported disrespect from the criminal justice system.
"One received threatening calls from her boyfriend, who was threatening to slit her throat. Nobody did anything before David Clark was elected (Rankin) DA. The deputy sheriffs had laughed at her. They identified with the boyfriend," she recalls. Williams adds that in most serial killing situations, police blame victims first: "It is common for police to first blame the victim and consider it a domestic situation and minimize it. When that wears thin, when they realize through DNA that they have a serial killer, they start blaming the killer's mother."
To the Oval Office
Electing more women would combat this, Williams believes. Women would be more inclined to give more money to the criminal justice system, fully funding needs like the Mississippi Crime Lab that could lead to solving crimes involving women. "Women understand what it's like to live with the dark presence of rape every day. Women being elected would benefit the criminal justice system because they have more empathy," she says.
Electing women as top officials would solve a lot of other problems concerning women, Hardwick says: "We end up being left out in policy making, which really affects us. The more inclusion, the better off we'll be."
"That's not to displace men," Meridian Councilwoman Mary Perry says. "But women's voices need to be heard in government. Men don't see the small details like we do. Women see small details and the big picture."
Perry has been a teacher for 38 years, but got involved with government in the '80s. She went to a meeting in order to let the voice of teachers be heard. "We wanted our input in the system," she says. She had to fill the role when no one else would. Balancing her work as a teacher and a government official has kept her busy, but it works together. At the time of her first election, her class was studying government. She allowed the class to sit in on her swearing in. Though she recently retired, she still teaches adult classes and Sunday School. She is running for her second full term as city councilwoman.
Hardwick thinks women should be in all levels of policy making—all the way to the presidency—but others disagree. "I don't know that I would vote for a woman president. They have different personalities and strengths," Braden says. "But I am all about women in lower government positions. I want my mom to run for something, but she doesn't want to."
A State Run by Men
Braden's mother, who is on the school board in Brookhaven, isn't alone. Many women do not run for office, meaning state politics continue to be run by men, or women who do what men tell them to do.
"Women tend to not run because they're taught from the beginning of their lives to be caretakers," Williamson says. "For most women, the first 40 years of her life are dedicated to taking care of children and a family. They don't understand that they can do that and participate in the political arena." Williamson cites Cindy Hyde-Smith as an example of this merging. Hyde-Smith, a Democrat from Brookhaven, is in her second term in the Mississippi Senate and has a 6-year-old son.
Williamson joined other key female politicians in Mississippi last weekend at the capitol for a training session educating women on how to run for political office. Sponsored by the Mississippi Federation of Democratic Women, the "training academy" focused on developing a message, projecting a winning image, handling media and fund raising.
"Women are 52.14 percent of the voting power in Mississippi. There should be more than four women in the Senate!" Williamson exclaimed before presenting on how to dress for success. Williamson has been working with training programs like these for 10 years, explaining, "We need to teach women from a young age that it is OK to participate in politics."
Williamson herself held many jobs before running for the Senate in 1999. She had been a computer programmer, an analyst and a business owner with three stores before she began campaigning. Men tried to dissuade her, she says. "I would go meet some of these man and say, 'Hi, I'm Gloria Williamson, and I'm running for the office of state senator, District 18,' and they'd say, 'What are you gonna do, gal?' I'd say, 'Everything that the men do, but I'm going to do it better.'"
Williamson attributes much of her attitude to her mother, who worked even when Williamson was only 3. She ran for the office in the '60s, showing Williamson that women could and should run for political office. But many women need an extra push, she says.
"Women tell me they don't know anything about politics. Politics is in your church, your schools, your clubs. It's just a matter of where you see it."
Make Some Noise, Girl
Whittington agrees. "The more women who get into the political or administrative area, the better it is going to be for us," she says. "We just have to keep encouraging women and help them understand that women's voices are not coming out in the laws that we make." Whittington adds that while most laws are gender-neutral, issues like women's health and insurance need to be better represented.
Once women do get involved, the political arena may intimidate some of them. Whittington admits that it is tough for someone to attain authority, but she says a lot of authority is attributed by seniority.
Williamson doesn't let anyone intimidate her in the Senate. "I'm a tough woman, and some of the men are totally scared of me. They should be," she says. "But when you get to 60, I think you've earned that right. You just have to say, 'I was elected by 53,000 people just like you, and we're all here to serve our people.'"
Even if men do not consciously hold women down now, Hardwick says the effects of the past are still felt. "Men can take a hands-off approach now because they have already trained women," she says. "They have already programmed them to be exactly like the way they want them to be."
A former basketball player, Williamson adds that sports contribute to a competitive mentality that pushes women to want to get involved and succeed. "You've got to want to win," she says.
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