My response to an e-mail message.
The other day, I got an e-mail message from a cousin of mine back east. The title of the e-mail was “Why Women Should Vote.” It was one of those typical “forward this” e-mails that tries to fire people up about one thing or another. It included the usual bold and UPPERCASE text and images. (I guess folks think that pictures can help make their case.)
I need to say here that my cousin did not write this e-mail. She just forwarded it. She often forwards messages about topics of interest to women.
I get a few of these forwarded e-mail messages each day. I agree with and enjoy reading about half of them. Some of them don’t even get read — I just delete them. And some of them — like this one — get under my skin and prompt me to respond and blog about it. Regular readers may recall “The Star Spangled Banner, In Spanish?”
The message was a combination history lesson and call for action. It began with the sentence, “This is the story of our Grandmothers and Great-grandmothers; they lived only 90 years ago.” I knew I was in for it when I saw a series of sepia-tinted photos of suffragettes on the march. I fully admit that I didn’t read the whole thing.
Instead, I thought about the idea that women should need a special reason to vote. And frankly, it made me angry. I wrote a response:
Women should vote for the same reason men should vote: it’s our RESPONSIBILITY as part of a democratic society. It has nothing to do with women’s rights or anything else that’s specific to women. We vote to have our say. Anyone who is eligible to vote and doesn’t is an IDIOT, plain and simple. They’re giving up their right to have a say in the future of our country.
Use it or lose it — that can apply to the democratic process, too.
And don’t you think this “battle of the sexes” nonsense has gone on too long? If we we acted like PEOPLE rather than WOMEN we’d be treated like people. That’s how I’ve always worked in male-dominated fields — finance, computers, and now aviation — and I’ve never had any problems.
Thanks for including me in your distribution lists, but you really don’t need to. I get an awful lot of e-mail and really don’t have time to wade through it all. I guarantee that I already THINK about things like this far more than most of the people in this country — people who care more about American Idol and Paris Hilton than how their congressman voted or what the votes were about. I don’t need e-mails that spell everything out for me with pictures, clip art, historical trivia, or angry words directed against one group or another.
Don’t be offended, please.
I didn’t get a response and honestly don’t expect to. There are far too many women who are quick to make us into some sort of special case. While I hope she understands my point, I don’t think this e-mail will change her point of view.
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Around the side of the building is a display, behind an iron fence, of some petroglyphs that were rescued from floodwaters when the Wanapum dam was completed downriver in 1963. But to understand why the rocks these drawing appear on look so uniform, I need to discuss the geology of the area a bit.
From 1000 to 300 years ago, native people drew on these columns of dark rock near the river’s edge. There’s actually an impressive variety of petroglyph drawings. About 300 of them were physically moved from what would soon be Lake Wanapum to the side of the Interpretive Center at the park. That’s what I saw and what is pictured here. (And no, the building isn’t curved. I was using my silly fisheye lens in an effort to capture more petroglyphs in a tight space.)
And then the main fireworks display began. It started at 10 PM sharp with a continuous display of large fireworks over the lake. Somehow, we’d managed to get a perfect spot in the park. We were both comfortable in our chairs and had unobstructed views. I’d brought along my camera and tripod in an attempt to capture some of the fireworks in pixels. This shot, taken with my fisheye lens, isn’t very good, but it gives you an idea of our surroundings: the people around us in the park, the water of the lake, a high tension powerline tower all illuminated by the rocket’s red glare.