When History Books Fail, Fill in the Gaps with Family Stories
STORY BY Heather Kirk-Davidoff ILLUSTRATION BY Lindsey Balbierz
“You come from a long line of strong women, Heather,” was one of my mother’s mantras when I was growing up. For a time, I rolled my eyes when she said it. Now, I hear them coming out of my own mouth as I talk to my daughter – or talk to myself. Behind my mother’s statement were stories. My great-grandmother’s husband left her behind in Cornwall, England, to care for their seven children while he went to America to establish a new home for their family. He planned to send money for boat tickets just as soon as he got his feet on the ground.
Months and then years passed and the money didn’t arrive. But my resourceful great-grandmother saved money from her work as a seamstress and four years later bought the tickets herself. For the rest of her life, according to my mother, she told people, “God helps those who help themselves.” I heard stories of my paternal grandmother who grew up on a dairy farm in Delaware, one of three sisters in a family without sons.
The girls did the farm work alongside their father, which gave them strong backs and a “can do” attitude. My grandparents drove across the country in a Model T Ford in 1930 for their honeymoon. When it got hot they bought watermelons at roadside stands out west and ate slice after slice. My grandmother then entertained herself by throwing the rinds at signs and trees and other motorists as they drove past.
I learned the stories of foremothers who survived the Irish Potato Famine and foremothers who worked long overnight shifts as nurses. Some worked at a rubber factory. Others fought breast cancer. One of them was actually named Philadelphia Drinker. All of them, it would seem, were a force to be reckoned with.
When I’m faced with some kind of adversity, be it a difficult task or heartbreaking news, I sometimes think of that “long line of strong women” who came before me. Sometimes I just wonder how they made it through situations so much harder than my own. Sometimes I call on them for help. I imagine myself drawing on their fortitude like a tree drawing nourishment from its deepest roots. I’ve tried to pass the stories of my foremothers on to my own daughter, supplemented by stories of the many powerful women in my husband’s family. The more she learns about history in school, the more necessary these family stories become. In grade school, my daughter’s American history lessons often focused on the “Founding Fathers.” Benjamin Franklin and Paul Revere were vivid characters whose stories captured her imagination. Betsy Ross was one of the few women mentioned by name, and her role seemed pretty boring compared to the men. The high school history curriculum struggles to correct some of the deficits.
My daughter’s American history and world history textbooks devote large sections to discussing social movements that improved or hindered women’s access to power and autonomy. She has written essays about the origins of patriarchy, the rise and fall of foot binding in China and the roots of the feminist movement. Unfortunately, the more her classes look at social movements and trends, the less they focus on people with names and faces and fascinating lives.
My daughter knows more about the history of women in general, but when it comes to people in particular, the stories she knows are the ones she learned in grade school. Benjamin Franklin, Paul Revere and off to the side with her sewing, gentle little Betsy Ross.
How can we teach our daughters that women’s lives are just as interesting and important as men’s lives – now and throughout history? This seems especially important in light of Hillary Rodham Clinton’s historic candidacy. I want my daughter to understand that while Hillary has achieved many “firsts,” she is not only an originator. She both represents and is the beneficiary of a long line of women who have shaped the story of our country – and our world. I hope that over time, we’ll learn the names and the stories of more of those women who have affected our lives today through their sacrifices and achievements. But until then, I’m going to keep reminding my daughter that she comes from “a long line of strong women.” I’m going to tell her about her watermelon rind-chucking great-grandmother and the great-great-grandmother who got herself to America. I’m going to tell her about the fights her grandmothers waged to protect women’s rights, stop wars and continue the work of building the country that the Founding Fathers and Mothers envisioned.
Heather Kirk-Davidoff is the enabling minister of the Kittamaqundi Community Church in Columbia. She and her husband, Dan, are the parents of three biological children and an adult foster daughter.
