My parents have four daughters, with me being the oldest. I remember vaguely wondering what it might be like to have a brother when we’d play with our boy cousins. Mostly I just thought a brother would mean having someone to beat up bullies on my behalf. Luckily, there were never any bullies to fight, and if there had been, I’m certain my youngest sister Erica could have taken them.
Having four children of the same gender is not extremely common, and whenever this fact of my family would come up in conversation people always seemed quite surprised. “You have four daughters?” They’d ask my mom, with eyes bugging out a bit more than normal. When my mom confirmed that yes, she and my dad were parents of four girls, nine out of 10 people would reply with the same little quip:
“Your poor husband!”
Or, in cases when they were addressing me or my sisters:
“Your poor Dad!”
I can’t even guess how many times this short, three-word exclamation was directed at me. I suppose it was meant to be funny? Or just a cute thing to say in a moment of surprise at the number of daughters/sisters someone has?
My mom always, always responded with grace. She would often say, “Don’t feel sorry for my husband. He loves them and they idolize him.” I smiled inside when she said that.
I never really knew how to respond when people said it to me. When I was a teenager, I grew so sick of hearing it that when someone said, “your poor Dad” I would look them square in the eyes and say, “Actually, he’s dead.” Yikes. Never a good idea to even semi-joke about a dead parent when that parent is very much alive, but I honestly just wanted to shut people up and let me tell you: it worked.
Today is International Women’s Day. A day to celebrate females everywhere. I love my Mother and my sisters and take extra pride on days like today that I come from a family of strong women.
But that little quip, “Your poor Dad” still echoes in my brain sometimes. Even though I know that my Dad has never been anything but proud to be the Father of his daughters. My Dad-- who parented us not according to gender stereotypes, but simply with love, never asked for your sympathy. He has never, in 28 years of being a Dad to girls, implied even slightly that it would have been easier if he had just had sons instead.
He taught us how to ride dirt bikes and four-wheelers and even motorcycles. He showed us how to cut the grass and drive a car and who John Wayne is. He also took us to the mall with our friends and to school dances. He did our hair when my Mom was away or sick. I never felt like my Dad was raising a bunch of girls. He was just raising his kids.
But small little lies can burrow deep into us, and with repetition, they can grow strong. Why would people feel sorry for my Dad? Because he doesn’t have a son to carry on his family name? A son to bond with? Would those people have said that same one-liner if my Dad had four sons instead of four daughters? Or would they have directed it to my Mother instead?
I am not a parent, but I will not for one moment buy into the lie that raising girls is more difficult, less rewarding, or somehow worse than raising boys. I don’t feel sorry for my Dad or any Dad who is parenting daughters. Saying something as simple as ‘your poor Dad’ may seem like a few words that will go by unnoticed or will just be laughed off. But my entire childhood and even into adulthood, I heard them, and I noticed. I didn’t laugh. I even made a sick and twisted joke as a teenager in an attempt to retaliate.
Thankfully, I knew by the way my parents responded and by how they treated us that there was no weight or truth to those words. Both of my parents instilled a deep sense of identity into my sisters and I. We were taught that we can do whatever we want. There is nothing off-limits simply because we are women. Because of this, the countless people who hurled the ‘your poor Dad’ line have not taken anything from me. But now I recognize the underlying danger those words hold.
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On this day, let’s pledge to use our words to build others up. No matter gender or age or race, let us speak words of and with love. Small little quips can tear at a person’s biggest insecurity without you ever knowing. Next time you see a Dad, whether he has four daughters or eight sons, simply shake his hand and say “Congratulations.”
