During the 1992 election, I had a childlike understanding of the politics surrounding the election of our nation's 42nd president. For my childhood self, the great debate was whether we'd get to hear "Don't Stop" by Fleetwood Mac, a band beloved by mom, one more time on television. However, another strong memory resides in me from that time. I remember watching on television and hearing the strong and confident voice of the Democratic candidate's wife. Hillary Rodham Clinton. She was her husband's intellectual equal, as well as the intellectual equal of those inside the political sphere, and she had no intention or interest in being demure about that basic truth. Neither her husband nor his male political counterparts ever had to dumb down their professional capabilities, so why must she? And, although I was too young to fully comprehend her command, I was old enough to track her willingness to speak her mind and society's unwillingness to allow it.
The sometimes subtle but oftentimes blatant vitriol issued against her would serve as an attempt to undress the first lady of her femininity and simultaneously place on trial cultural norms and professional practices as they relate to women. The first lady wasn't much of a lady, it seemed to some, because she spoke up for herself, she had opinions, and she liked to work. The young me didn't know what was so wrong with that. All the women I had been surrounded by my entire life and had idolized seemed to be similar. Some attacks were more obvious, like the strong dislike some of her husband's constituents back in Arkansas felt about her having a job. I imagine they expected the accomplished attorney, a partner at her firm at the young age of 32, to quit her job upon her husband's governorship. Nope. Then there were the more coded insults, like the condescending tone of exhaustion some would display when having to address her by her full and proper name, as if to somehow imply it wasn't actually her "real name." Or perhaps it was an attempt to undermine the feminist movement. Also, no.
"They don't like her because she is strong," my mother would say.
After a long day at the office, my mom would prepare dinner and watch the news, with me by her side. "They want to try and turn the volume down on her, but look, she will not let them," she'd chide at the television. And then she'd turn to me and quite deliberately say:
"Never let anyone turn the volume down on you."
That stayed with me. Little did I know my mother was delicately highlighting the still long-unaddressed truth of gender bias that Clinton has faced during her time in public life, tracing all the way back to when she entered the workforce. Here was a woman, practically alone in this arena, defending her right to be heard, and I felt empowered. This first lady symbolized a new idea for Americans relating to the role of a woman, a wife, and a female working professional, and directly impacted countless young girls like myself, who grew up to believe that, yes, it is in fact okay to be an authoritative woman.
It is in spite of her critics, their doubt of what can be accomplished and their inability to imagine bold ideas, that Clinton has succeeded. She is fearless. An early advocate and public speaker on health care—this country's moral center—the first lady framed it as something that must be looked at as "a right, not a privilege" for all Americans. Similarly, she is not afraid to work beyond party lines in order to advance common-sense legislation that can end the unjust policing of our diverse citizenship, begin the reformation of our mass incarceration systems, and fight for equal pay for all employees. These are all things that will create a safer, more economically sound America that emboldens us to one day become the "more perfect union" that this nation's founding fathers sought in our independence. She is smart enough to know when to fold the best idea in the room into her working plan for America's progress, rather than stubbornly grip her own just because it's her idea. These are the markings of a thoughtful leader, a deliberate force who is ready to serve.
Sadly, it is often women of this type who are misidentified, in the least complimentary of terms as being bossy, loud, masculine, divas, bitches, aggressive, misguided, emotional, or angry. Of these barbs, I believe Clinton is rightly characterized as an ambitious, hardworking, and focused woman. All of these are wonderful attributes. She deserves all of the praise that comes to any individual displaying those characteristics. Might we as a nation be so fortunate as to have all our young boys and girls develop similar traits. As women, dwelling too long in this landscape can become challenging, but, as the saying goes, it's not the dog in the fight that counts, it's the fight in the dog—and Clinton is a fighter. She fights for what's right, she fights for herself, she fights for us, and that is why, simply, I'm with her.
Hillary Rodham Clinton is a resilient public servant seeking the highest seat in the land. When I think back on myself as a young girl sharing time with my mother, I feel how wonderful it is to witness this woman—the one who had encouraged me and many others to pump up the volume on our own lives—empower and have an impact on yet another generation. It's a testament to her strength. It is an illustration of her commitment to this country, and it proves to each of us just how ready this first lady, this senator, this secretary of state, is to lead.
#WhyImWithHer is a series of essays in support of Hillary Clinton written by Alfre Woodard, Tracee Ellis Ross, America Ferrera, Constance Wu, Yara Shahidi, Uzo Aduba, and Zoe Kazan. This is a project of EMILY's List, the nation's largest organization dedicated to changing the face of power by electing pro-choice Democratic women to office at all levels. Read more at emilyslist.org/WhyImWithHer.
