On International Women's Day - Lessons my family taught me
I thought long and hard about what I was going to write for International Women's Day. I don't like repeating myself too much, and, when it comes to my mom, I don't feel like I can say more then what I said back in 2014. But, after mulling over and tossing several drafts in my head, I think I figured it out.
I grew up surrounded by professionally accomplished -my mom, Grandma Nina, Grandma Tanya. Grandma Kima (who, for those who haven't been reading this LJ very long, was actually my grandfather's cousin - but my siblings and I always called her "grandma" anyway) was retired by the time I was old enough to understand these sorts of things, but, as I've mentioned before, she worked as a proofreader for a children's book publisher, so a lot of the books I grew up reading had her name in the credits. Even Aunt Anya (who is actually my mom's cousin - but there is no simple English equivalent of Russian "двоюродная тётя") was passionate about what she believed and tried to teach me how to play piano. I didn't really want to learn - like, at all - but she could play it. And, as I got older, I learned to at least respect the skill needed to do that.
Even looking back at the family that passed away, there were figures like the great-grandmother I never met.
Most of the people I mentioned here were flawed, one way or another. Some... in more fundamental ways than others. Anybody who read my friends-locked posts have at least some idea as to why. Even my mom... Contrary to what a lot of her fandom seems to believe, she wasn't always like what you see on LJ and in real life. As she herself would tell you, she made mistakes, because she didn't know any better, because she didn't always have a best advice and because, well... Let's just say not living under the same roof as her mother probably did her a world of good. So did a lot of what she experienced in these United States.
Having said all that...I grew up among strong-willing women who took pride in their work and in their academic accomplishments. Even as a child, the idea that women should have to choose between work and motherhood was utterly foreign to me. Even as a child, the idea that women weren't in good in science and math as men was laughable because, even if I didn't understand what my mother and my grandmothers doing, I knew that it was something complicated and awesome.
I learned a lot of things from my male relatives - but it is the women in my family who taught me what it was to be strong, what it was to keep going even in the most hopeless of situations. When I wrote about how you need to keep doing chemo even if you really don't feel like it, I was thinking of them.
I grew up with stories about how my mom navigated the system, how my grandmothers got things done through the sheer force of personalities. I'm not quite as good at it as they were - but it's something I aspire toward.
They encouraged my love of reading, my love of history. My mom and Grandma Kima especially encouraged me to be curious, to read the interesting books on the shelves, even if, in the end, I didn't like them.
As I've written before, it was my mom who taught me to look beyond prejudices, whether it's against ethnic minorities or gay people, in a society where that sort of thing wasn't an expectation. She always tried to encourage us to explore different faiths, different philosophies, if we wanted to.
Grandma Nina taught me, from the early age, that war is, first and foremost, a horror. She was, and still is, a patriot of our country, but she never shied away from some of the ugly realities. She taught me - ironically, given how much of a Putin fan she became - the importance of staying true to your principles.
Grandma Tanya... I suppose, whether she meant it or not, she taught me that, sometimes, even well-meaning actions weren't necessary the right ones. And I always appreciated that, unlike Grandma Nina, she always wore her heart on her sleve.
As for Aunt Anya... At the time when I wasn't sure whether anything I wrote was worth anything, she taught me that my creative writing had meaning. That it was something worth pursuing. Not in an abstract "oh, Gosha is writing, isn't it cute" way my grandmothers approached it, but in a real, heartfelt way, the way nobody else in my family really did - at least at the time.
(I can practically hear my mom wincing as she reads it, for reasons obvious to anyone who read my f-locked posts, but what can I say - it's the truth.)
I'm proud to see annanov become the same kind of strong, passionate, driven woman that so many women in our family tree area. And I'm proud of Iya, Aunt Anya's daughter, for the same reason.
I hope that their daughters will grow up the same way.
As for me - like I said, I'm proud of my male relatives. I don't want to diminish anything they've done for me. But that's a subject for a separate post. And today, on International Women's Day, I want to pay tribute to the reason why I always say that a blood of many strong Russian women (as opposed to "Russian people") flows through my veins.
С 8 Марта.
I grew up surrounded by professionally accomplished -my mom, Grandma Nina, Grandma Tanya. Grandma Kima (who, for those who haven't been reading this LJ very long, was actually my grandfather's cousin - but my siblings and I always called her "grandma" anyway) was retired by the time I was old enough to understand these sorts of things, but, as I've mentioned before, she worked as a proofreader for a children's book publisher, so a lot of the books I grew up reading had her name in the credits. Even Aunt Anya (who is actually my mom's cousin - but there is no simple English equivalent of Russian "двоюродная тётя") was passionate about what she believed and tried to teach me how to play piano. I didn't really want to learn - like, at all - but she could play it. And, as I got older, I learned to at least respect the skill needed to do that.
Even looking back at the family that passed away, there were figures like the great-grandmother I never met.
Most of the people I mentioned here were flawed, one way or another. Some... in more fundamental ways than others. Anybody who read my friends-locked posts have at least some idea as to why. Even my mom... Contrary to what a lot of her fandom seems to believe, she wasn't always like what you see on LJ and in real life. As she herself would tell you, she made mistakes, because she didn't know any better, because she didn't always have a best advice and because, well... Let's just say not living under the same roof as her mother probably did her a world of good. So did a lot of what she experienced in these United States.
Having said all that...I grew up among strong-willing women who took pride in their work and in their academic accomplishments. Even as a child, the idea that women should have to choose between work and motherhood was utterly foreign to me. Even as a child, the idea that women weren't in good in science and math as men was laughable because, even if I didn't understand what my mother and my grandmothers doing, I knew that it was something complicated and awesome.
I learned a lot of things from my male relatives - but it is the women in my family who taught me what it was to be strong, what it was to keep going even in the most hopeless of situations. When I wrote about how you need to keep doing chemo even if you really don't feel like it, I was thinking of them.
I grew up with stories about how my mom navigated the system, how my grandmothers got things done through the sheer force of personalities. I'm not quite as good at it as they were - but it's something I aspire toward.
They encouraged my love of reading, my love of history. My mom and Grandma Kima especially encouraged me to be curious, to read the interesting books on the shelves, even if, in the end, I didn't like them.
As I've written before, it was my mom who taught me to look beyond prejudices, whether it's against ethnic minorities or gay people, in a society where that sort of thing wasn't an expectation. She always tried to encourage us to explore different faiths, different philosophies, if we wanted to.
Grandma Nina taught me, from the early age, that war is, first and foremost, a horror. She was, and still is, a patriot of our country, but she never shied away from some of the ugly realities. She taught me - ironically, given how much of a Putin fan she became - the importance of staying true to your principles.
Grandma Tanya... I suppose, whether she meant it or not, she taught me that, sometimes, even well-meaning actions weren't necessary the right ones. And I always appreciated that, unlike Grandma Nina, she always wore her heart on her sleve.
As for Aunt Anya... At the time when I wasn't sure whether anything I wrote was worth anything, she taught me that my creative writing had meaning. That it was something worth pursuing. Not in an abstract "oh, Gosha is writing, isn't it cute" way my grandmothers approached it, but in a real, heartfelt way, the way nobody else in my family really did - at least at the time.
(I can practically hear my mom wincing as she reads it, for reasons obvious to anyone who read my f-locked posts, but what can I say - it's the truth.)
I'm proud to see annanov become the same kind of strong, passionate, driven woman that so many women in our family tree area. And I'm proud of Iya, Aunt Anya's daughter, for the same reason.
I hope that their daughters will grow up the same way.
As for me - like I said, I'm proud of my male relatives. I don't want to diminish anything they've done for me. But that's a subject for a separate post. And today, on International Women's Day, I want to pay tribute to the reason why I always say that a blood of many strong Russian women (as opposed to "Russian people") flows through my veins.
С 8 Марта.