I am a feminist. Or at least I think I am. This may sound odd as I am a man, but I believe, to some extent, in the fundamental elements of the feminist movement as articulated in the past half century, that is, that men and women are essentially equal, and deserve equal rights. But I also believe that with equal rights comes equal responsibilities. And here is where I get myself into trouble.I'm fine with the end of the traditional division of labor. I cook, I change diapers, I do the laundry (infrequently), I clean, I take my kids to the playground, I give them baths. Short of providing actual breast milk, I am capable of providing them with most things a mother can (other than common sense and reminding them to bring a necessary item on a certain day of school and teaching them social skills).
So I can do some of the "woman" jobs. But I also get stuck doing a lot of the "man" jobs. Heavy lifting, furniture assembly, telecommunications troubleshooting -- these are also my domains. They are not always my partner's. My wife is the founder of a successful publishing company, a bestselling author, she handles most of our finances, and is basically a multitasking tour de force. Yet if some bookshelves need to be assembled or a computer won't connect to the Internet, I'm the one who's called upon to fix it.
In Estonia, this is completely natural. Most Estonian guys love their role as the go-to handymen who can tackle any challenge. I'd love to see the Estonian guy who one day drops his hammer and says, "Tell you what, honey, you've got a brain and two arms and you're only a few inches shorter than me -- Why don't you build me a house?!" That's frontpage tabloid material right there. Traditional values are quaint, but they also annoy me because I want to raise self-reliant daughters, girls who aren't afraid of lifting things or learning the intricacies of wireless Internet.
My problem here is that I don't know how to do that. I think that if I went the old school route and gave the kids books like Our Bodies, Ourselves -- which many of my female friends got as children twenty-odd years ago -- it would only confuse them. So, I am at a loss. I want my girls to know that they can basically do anything that I can, and yet they live in a world of Disney princesses who are always getting rescued by some handsome prince, a world where Daddy fixes most things. I want them to know how to use a screwdriver. In fact, maybe I should start teaching them to do my jobs. Then I really can drop my hammer.
