Kramer vs. Me
Last night I watched Kramer vs. Kramer (1979, Dustin Hoffman and Meryl Streep) for the first time. This film, produced two years before I was born, tells the story of a mother who leaves her husband and her five year old son to ?find herself?. She returns eighteen months later asking for custody of her son, and the husband and wife battle in court. The film makes two points that were, at the time, rather groundbreaking and controversial. First, it points out the negative effects of male workaholism in a marriage. Ted?s (Hoffman) absorption in his work leads him to neglect his wife and child and their needs. Second, the film argues persuasively that a father can care for and raise a child as well as a mother can.
But the most startling thing about the movie is its prescient summary of the feminist movement in the latter half of the twentieth century. Meryl Streep as Joanna Kramer is the everywoman feminist ? in her refusal to be identified only as a wife and mother, something less than a human being; in her soul search; and in her discovery that, in the end, she desperately wants a child.
Let me explain. In the nineteen fifties, feminists advanced the idea that a woman cannot find fulfillment in ?traditional? female roles. In The Feminine Mystique, Betty Friedan wrote, ?We can no longer ignore that voice within women which says: ?I want something more than my husband and my children and my home.?? Well-educated, well-off homemakers in the 1950s were unfulfilled by the role that mothers, magazines, and media had promised would bring them happiness. In fact, thousands of suburban wives were suffering from sickness and depression, seeking comfort in lithium addictions. Caught up in the dailyness of cooking, cleaning, and chauffeuring, women quietly asked themselves ?Is this all??
Friedan criticized a culture that would not allow women to voice that question, but that instead exalted on television and in magazines a hyper-feminized woman whose main goals were to please her husband and raise model children in a spotless home. ?No other road to fulfillment was offered to American women in the middle of the twentieth century,? she writes. In response to the feminist plea, America instated sweeping government programs, put tens of billions of dollars in social spending, and underwent massive social upheaval in the name of sexual equality.
Conservatives may dismiss Friedan?s work and conclusions, but I can?t do that. The fact is, she was right about a lot of things. Sociological studies show that women had in fact been taught that marriage and motherhood alone would bring them fulfillment ? and that wasn?t true then and isn?t true now. Men were also bound by narrow gender roles. Men, coming out of the world wars, believed that they had to play the same role at home that they had played on the battlefields; they were there to conquer, to succeed, and never to show weakness. Ted Kramer is a good example; he believed that his role as a married man was to conquer the workplace and ?bring home the bacon?.
Both men and women, then, were bound by constricting gender roles, and something had to be done about it. Joanna Kramer, and feminists in the sixties and seventies, decided that the thing to do was to find some way other than marriage and motherhood to define themselves. Joanna?s decision to leave her marriage for a journey of self-discovery through therapy in California mirrors the feminist movement in those decades, as women claimed the right to be just as selfish as men.
Finally, Joanna found herself and realized how much she wanted her child ? a realization that most feminists from the sixties and seventies didn?t come to until the nineties. But now, many feminists are clamoring for children. Many modern feminists are even beginning to embrace traditional roles over careers.
The choice of Brenda Barnes, one of the highest ranking female executives in the country, to resign from her job as CEO of Pepsi-Cola North America in 1997 received a great deal of media attention. She made the decision, she told the press, after one of her children said it would be okay for her to keep working if she would ?promise to be home for all our birthdays.?
Sarah McLachlan, folk rock singer and founder of Lilith Fair, decided to end the music festival in favor of having children. When asked when she would resume her career she shrugged. ?It could be three years, it could be ten years, it could be forever.?
Most notable is the defense offered by former journalist Iris Krasnow who gave up a top-flight career to take care of four little boys. She says, ?Motherhood is about deciding not to fight that ancient and biological yank on the womb, that natural order of your soul that says you should be there. If we don?t want to work eighty hours a week in some office and get our family life eaten up, why should we feel as though we?re selling out feminism? I?m a committed feminist, and there?s nothing more powerful to me than refusing to abandon motherhood.?
In Creating a Life (2002), Sylvia Ann Hewlett chronicles the stories of thousands of highly successful American women who found the possibility of raising children eliminated by the demands of ?high-altitude? careers, and who try desperately late in life to get pregnant. Even popular fiction highlights the professional woman?s ache for children; books like Dating Big Bird feature protagonists on the man-hunt simply so that they can have children before the biological clock stops ticking. Joanna?s late realization of how much she longs for her child is the realization of thousands of women in America today.
And where does this leave me? Twenty-two years old, I?ve grown up with the voices of Joanna Kramer, Betty Friedan, and Iris Krasnow all whispering in my ears. I?ve been brought up to believe that I should find my talents and fulfill my potential. I?ve heard the feminists say that I won?t be able to do that with marriage and children alone, and I?ve heard neo-feminists like Danielle Crittendon say that if I refrain from committing to marriage, my capacity to love will shrink and I?ll grow old wishing that I had children. And I?ve seen enough women try to balance career and motherhood that I know how rarely it can be done well. A choice of some kind has to be made. But how do I reconcile these conflicting urges in my soul; how do I understand this confused heritage of gender?
I tried to explain my dilemma to an older single friend recently ? one who, personally successful, wishes she could be married with kids. I said, ?I understand ? I get the point that twenty years from now, I?m going to wish that I had children. But even if I intellectually grasp that fact, that doesn?t mean that I can just go out and get married right now, so that I?ll be happy later in life.? She said, ?Why not??
Why not? I didn?t know how to explain it then, and I?m not sure I do now. I can?t do that because it?s a utilitarian view of marriage and men. I can?t say, ?Because in twenty years I?m going to want kids, I?m now going to give up my other talents and ambitions and go find a husband (read: sperm donor) to ensure my future happiness.? There is as much selfishness in that as there is in Joanna Kramer?s leaving her husband and son. My motivation for marriage and motherhood has to be broader than that.
So still I?m at a standstill. I?m twenty-two and a year out of college, and I have all roads open to me: graduate school, a career, international volunteer work, marriage. And at the crossroads I listen to the confused voices of my feminist fore bearers -- and they?re pointing me in every direction at once.
