Bumper stickers and T-shirts hailed the message in the New Haven CT area, from the 1970s well into the 80s and 90s. It was the theme of my talks around town, based largely on my teaching the psychology of women at Southern Connecticut State University, and elaborated by experience with clients, and even my own life.
Women seemed to know immediately what it meant. Men “got” it when I explained it.
I’ll tell you where the title came from, and what I want to do with it now, but first I want to tell you why I’m inspired to write about it at this point. Recently a nurse blogged about e-bola, evoking many responses. I’ll bet the total has reached into the hundreds. Here it’s not my purpose to respond to the content of the blog. What caught my attention was the stubborn assumption that the nurse in question is a female. Even after he identified himself as a man, people continued to refer to “her” and “she” in their responses. That’s when I was struck with the way stereotypes hang on.
I believe it was in the early 80s that one of my advisees came to me in really heavy stress. He wanted to go into the relatively new and very powerful nursing program being developed at SCSU. The problem was his family was practically threatening to disown him if he did that. Oh no, that would mark him as too feminine. I think he courageously chose to defy the norms and I’ll bet he’s a great nurse. But the stereotype still exists, without the stigma, I think.
So why am I writing about it now? In general, I want to remind myself and others how a little patience – and activism – will see positive changes in cycles of twenty or so years. And of what some people went through to get us there.
I think I don’t have to add the “now.” It’s pretty obvious – at least, that’s my take on it. But these are reminders.
Just a little more commentary about that period of time.
My daughter, age thirteen in 1973, was moving on from Drs. Lacamera and Wessel, two absolutely wonderful [male] pediatricians who had cared for her and my son. She wanted a referral to a female physician but none were available to her. Residencies were basically denied to women at Yale-New Haven Hospital.
In the late 1970s, my women clients were longing for female physicians, and some were becoming available to them.
Let me go back a little farther, to the late 50s when my husband and I moved to the New Haven area to follow his job. I had completed all but the dissertation for my Ph.D. Warren Bennis, one of my Boston University professors had given me a referral to a colleague at Yale who seemed like a good potential for a job for me. I solicited and got an interview with him. It went pretty well, I thought – possibly a position as a research assistant. But my parents brought me up with this hefty superego that led me to tell him at the end that I did think I might be pregnant. I left with the message he would get in touch with me.
Some time passed and I called. “Oh, the secretarial job has been filled,” I was told. Interestingly in light of the waters of the time, I blamed myself for having told him of the possible pregnancy. I have a different take on it now as I look back.
A former student at SCSU, teaching at a school in Hamden, CT in the 70s, was much smarter than I. She concealed her pregnancy as long as possible, knowing she would have to leave the job as soon as she “showed.”
Oh yes, more stories from “ancient” times before I explain the title. In 1958 I was blessed with a mentor. I didn’t know at the time that he was a “mentor.” That word wasn’t yet in intentional vogue. He was just a psychology department chair who respected me and my potential. He agreed to hire me to teach a couple of evening classes. (That way I could be a full time wife and mother during the day.) But before the deal was completed, he had to introduce me to the college president. “I’d like to plan for a full time evening faculty member,” he told Dr Buley, “and Mona would be the candidate of my choice.” The president opined that he didn’t approve of hiring married women whose first obligation was to their husbands. He would allow my teaching a couple of evening courses since Dr. Trinkau enthusiastically recommended it, but that was as far as he was willing to go.
I want to rush to say that Dr. Buley did turn out to be much more tolerant as a couple of years went by and I was hired to teach days. In fact, he was very willing to support Dr. Trinkaus in his desire to promote me. Truth be told, I am very grateful to both those men for saving my sanity.
Oh – another story? Once I was fully employed as a faculty teaching mostly days, I was warmly welcomed and supported by the entire Psychology department. Actually, I was not the only female on staff. The others at that time were single.
But there was one man in another department at the college who was a part of our lunchtime gathering in the faculty lounge. He castigated me for working outside the home once I was married. His wife, a very talented concert level musician, was perfectly happy, he said, to share her talent with the church. Unfortunately for him, she decided some years later to follow her talent and divorce ensued.
I hope these don’t come through as poor me stories, because I am extremely grateful for the wonderful support I received all through my career. I just want to set the stage for “A Healthy Woman is a Crazy Person.”
It’s based on research published in 1970 by Inge Broverman.
In a nutshell, she demonstrated that therapists as well as others reflected the waters of the time by describing healthy men and adults in the same terms, and women as the opposite.
“The results indicated that participants believed that a healthy adult and a healthy male shared virtually all the same characteristics. A healthy female, however, was thought to possess different qualities. The adults and males were said to share a “competence cluster” of traits such as confidence and independence, while women had a “warmth-expressiveness cluster” that described kindness and concern for others. This put women in a situation where, if they demonstrated those traits considered healthy for a woman, they were simultaneously classified as an unhealthy, psychologically immature adult.”
What wasn’t emphasized at the time was that men who were warm and expressive were also condemned as “unhealthy.” Consider the student who wanted to be a nurse.
I hasten to attribute this quote to the following citation
There are at least two things that stand out about this, both of which had the potential for getting me in trouble when I did these talks.
First: Healthy (read “good”) women were perceived as being the opposite of men Therefore, whenever I said something positive about women it was perceived as a putdown of men. At least in the circles where I travel now I think that bleak dichotomy has loosened. But then, it was common for both men and women to think less of themselves if that oppositeness wasn’t maintained. Hence the reaction of the family who wanted the student to refrain from becoming a nurse.
Second: Since so many of our institutions were built on that assumption, I was perceived as a radical working to destroy marriage, jobs, and you name it. Sometimes it was scary.
But, I repeat, I want to emphasize the wonderful changes that have occurred over time. Both men and women have been set free of the stereotypes – at least younger men. I could cite some public figures who are still trapped in the 50s, but then I’d be getting into areas where I have opinions but no authority.
Enough already! I don’t want to bore you away from my site. I’ll get back tomorrow, I hope, with some examples that may intrigue you, tickle you, surprise you, perhaps even cause a few giggles, possibly warm your hear, and make you feel better about things.
I just finished reading “Quiet: the power of introverts in a world that can’t stop talking” It helps to explain why I find this business of marketing “Figs & Pomegranates & Special Cheeses” so frustrating. I think I’m a closet introvert. That is, I want to stay closeted and write. Well, along with a few other things. like seeing clients, and stuff.
I did write a review of “Quiet …”, lost no doubt amid the 2,990 already there. And I’d be happy with 50. Oh well…
Marketing is frustrating because it takes me away from what I really want to do. What do I want to do?
I want to work on “My Fathers House.”
And a remake of “When to Forgive” now that all rights have been returned to me. I want to do it as an e-book, with a title something like: “Forgive Now? Forgive later? Forgive Never?”
And finish up work with the web designer and get the show on the road with forgivenessoptions.com.
But soon, before my birthday passes, I want to finish preparing these postcards
saying “Please help me celebrate my October birthday by “looking inside” the book, reading the reviews, and sending me an “I did it” message on my special “figs” e-mail address figs@forgivenessoptions.com” (Feel free to do that yourself if you are willing.)
And oh yes, I’d like to do an audio version of “Figs.. “ in addition to the paperback and the kindle. But there’s no sense doing that until sales take off.
Today, though, I’d like to share another review that couldn’t make it onto amazon.com.
Jo (no, I don’t know her personally) had this to say. “figs & pomegranates and special cheeses” is a delightful easy read. While I am not usually drawn to biblical books I found this book to be insightful and historically accurate. The character development is excellent. It’s a timeless love story based on commitment and traditions.”
I like this review because it’s a reminder that one doesn’t have to be biblical to enjoy the story.
If you haven’t discovered it yet, please note that “Figs & Pomegranates & Special Cheeses” is now available in Kindle edition. And while you’re there, take a look at the new reviews.
About the Medicare advice. This is what I learned based on my recent experience. If you have already had the one physical allowed when you first joined Medicare at 65, don’t ever again use the word “physical” when making an appointment with your doctor because Medicare won’t cover it. You are entitled to the hands off “annual wellness visit” which will give the opportunity for renewal of prescriptions and orders for tests to be done, e.g., mammograms, bone density, etc. Check out your manual for details.
If your secondary insurance, like mine, piggy backs on Medicare, it won’t cover a “physical” either. If you have secondary insurance that will cover it, then you’re all set, I guess.
Check out “Annual Wellness Visit” in your Medicare Manual just to double-check what I’m saying here.
Visits to the doctor for specific illness or symptoms are, as I understand it, covered.
Just for the fun of it, click on this link and scroll down to the second cartoon. Even the Peanuts friends got into the discussion. See? Job’s wife is important in more places than just “Figs & Pomegranates & Special Cheeses.”
Twelve reviews have made it past the amazon.com censor. Things are picking up. Both the softcover and the kindle version are showing some movement.
The most recent review emphasized something new — the last chapter where I give “the story of the story.”
“Figs, Pomegranates, and Special Cheeses, by Mona Gustafson Affinito , is a lovely story told from the point of view of Job’s wife. It is full of sensual details, and written using a great deal of visual imagery. The author is especially attuned to colors, and the reader cannot help but delight in the colorful descriptions of the robes, dresses, rugs, and camel garb of the times. As simple and straightforward it is as a love story, its ending becomes deep and complex, reflecting with insight on Job’s struggles.. While it is clearly a book which will appeal especially to women, the full story has much meaning for anyone who is continuing to examine the roles of strong women in history and in present time, and men’s response to these women. When you finish the story, the author’s Addendum is a MUST READ, as it reflects on the wonderful, self-reflective, and intelligent way which she approached the issues, the historical research, and the theology of this fictional , yet scripturally-based, story.”
And then there’s the nice review that I posted last time — the one that didn’t make it past the spending rules imposed by amazon.com
Thanks to all of you for paying attention
I felt cheated. I mean, who wouldn’t like to see a review as nice as this one that appeared on my blog.
“I just finished reading Figs & Pomegranates & Special Cheeses, and wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed it. I particularly liked how you skillfully told the riveting story of how Dara evolved and grew over the years. The story is wonderfully grounded by Dara’s love for Job, and her bold words and actions. I enjoyed seeing how you handled the tensions that emerged as Dara sought to understand her role and her husband’s God.”
At my request the author agreed to post it on amazon.com and did everything right. Found “Figs & Pomegranates & Special Cheeses” and clicked on “write a review.” Completed the information to establish an account. Then was told one wasn’t allowed to post a review since there had been no purchase made with that account. No, it wasn’t necessary to have purchased that book, but just something.
I trusted my fellow blogger. Still, it didn’t seem right to me, so I called amazon. It’s true. If you haven’t purchased anything with your account you can’t use it to write a review. “It’s for your protection,” I was told.” Suppose someone wanted to ruin you, he could just establish 100 accounts and use them to write bad things about you.”
Huh? OK, does that mean this person who hated me so much could buy a $0.99 kindle book with each of those accounts. Less than $100. Not a bad investment if you’re really out to get me.
I suspect there might be a better way to protect me.
As it stands, I guess that means every time someone buys a book from me, I should ask whether or not he or she has ever bought anything from amazon. If the answer is “no,” then I should include a check for $0.99 with the book in case they want to write a review. That would give them the wherewithal to purchase something allowing for the review. OK. I confess I’m being snarky.
The words used when I first heard this are not acceptable to the nice people here in the Midwest. “Oh, my, now I have to work on forgiving them, I thought.” On second thought, though, it wasn’t a personal attack on me, though it felt that way. It’s a policy that ends up hurting me.
And amazon really does provide a number of helpful services.
So, forgiveness process ended at the first step. It wasn’t really an offense against me.
But disappointment remains. Reviews of “Figs & Pomegranates & Special Cheeses,” (or any books, for that matter) are really important to the author.
Imagine a world where we really care! That was the theme of my last blog as I longed for intense concern and effort to keep our world healthy. The kind of enthusiastic dedication we had during WWII when we fought against potential disaster of a different kind.
Well, here’s one opportunity we can each afford, a step in the deliciously right direction.
Even if you are a denier, I’ll bet you can join in the desire to feed everyone with healthy options
I dreamt we really cared about our earthly home. I thought I was struggling to sleep, but my watch said it was time to get up. So, was I dreaming or longing?
I do know I was remembering the days of WWII when we were all dedicated to fighting for a just cause. It was scary, but it was magnificent – flattening our cans for re-use, counting food ration coupons to be used in the most efficient way, planning limited driving trips to make maximum use of gas coupons, drawing our black shades at night so as not to help the enemy find us, watching Times News before the movies (two for the price of one), singing patriotic songs, and “When Johnny Comes Marching Home Again” as the end approached, knowing we were fighting for the freedom of those who were suffering invasion by cruel forces. (It was only in later years I became aware of our own cruelty in turning away refuges and depriving our Japanese citizens of freedom and property.)
We were dedicated in spite of the fact that we were pretty sure no bombs would drop on us. We had the ability to see that the problem was bigger than our own private domain.
Well, I wasn’t driving and purchasing groceries – too young for that. But I remember. My best friends father was the Air Raid Warden for our neighborhood. Mostly it was his job to walk the area and be sure no light shone through the windows. He often allowed my best friend Hallie to carry out that duty, so the two of us walked the neighborhood in the dark together. (No one worried about our being kidnapped or raped.)
We were in the 4-H club, one duty being to spot for enemy airplanes. It’s a good thing none attacked, because I couldn’t tell the difference between a flying mosquito and an airplane, say nothing of distinguishing between friend and enemy. Fortunately Hallie’s vision was more acute.
We worried about my brother and my brother-in-law as they were off to war. My big sister volunteered in the nursery school that made it possible for mom’s to build war equipment. (disbanded at the end of the war so mom could be sent back home “where she belonged.” More on that in a subsequent post.)
Magnificent? Yes. We were dedicated to a life affirming cause. This morning in my half dreaming state I imagined how wonderful it would be if we all fought as hard now for the earth – the home we all share. I thought of how we would be free of reliance on foreign – or even domestic – oil if we had pursued programs begun in the Carter administration. How glorious it would be if we recognized the dangers and mobilized to fight them.
And then I remembered my own frequent childhood bronchial colds, gasping for breath – wheezing, they called it. I wasn’t allowed to ride in the rumble seat in the teacher’s car who drove us to kindergarten because I might catch a cold. And then I thought again of how magnificent it would be if we cared enough about our atmosphere to spare so many children the asthma lifestyle marked by fear of death and reliance on inhalers, carried like we used to carry pens and pencils in our pockets.
Yes, I dreamt I dwelt in a world that cared.
I have other posts ready in my head to be set down on paper, like “A Healthy Woman is a Crazy Person,” but this is new and, it seems, more urgent.
Several of us have recently had the same problem. If you are not on medicare, you may still want to know this for friends and family who are.
Recently on the notice from my physician to go in for my annual checkup, I ended up getting a Medicare rejection for the $343,00 they will be billing me. Many phone calls later, to many people, I have established the following “facts.” As far as I can tell, this is a new (and personally expensive) ruing.
When I called the medicare number, I was greeted with the cheerful announcement that we are now entitled to a yearly wellness visit. Here’s what that means. (Please do your own explorations to double check what I’m telling you here) And who knows, maybe it varies from state to state.
As my source said, the yearly wellness visit is like a hands free car wash. It is a no hands on interview with your doctor who will ask a series of questions like, “Are you able to dress yourself?” (Honest, that’s what she said.) The doctor is not to touch you or measure anything like blood pressure. It’s all talk, and an opportunity to renew your prescriptions.
If she listens to your heart and lungs and takes height, weight, and temperature, you are then billed for a physical which, as indicated above, is very expensive.
I don’t blame the doctor. She doesn’t have to keep up with the latest medicare ruling. She reports what she did, and someone else does the coding. But do beware.
If, on the other hand, you have a headache, or something specific, you can schedule an office visit and she can test you for things that might be related to a headache, but don’t add more stuff that might get it coded as a physical.
Oh yes, you can get one complete physical when you first turn 65. That will be reimbursed.
The next piece is my supplementary insurance which piggy backs on medicare, so they will not reimburse any of the bill either.
So, I’m paying $343.00 to do things most of which I could have done myself – measure hight, weight, temperature, BP. I suppose the good thing is she could prescribe tests, including mammogram, bone density test, and a number of blood tests. I haven’t received word yet, but apparently they are covered.
And, of course, you can’t have the latter tests if they aren’t prescribed by the physician, so I guess I will be paying $343.00 for the piece of paper that goes to the lab so I can have those tests done.
I’ve had a nice relationship with my physician, but I guess I won’t be seeing much more of her. How will I get the bone density test? I guess I have to schedule an office visit to tell her my bones feel like they are getting holes in them.
Am I confused? Yes, and not at all happy with the situation. Fortunately I can afford to pay the bill when it comes, though I will work out a payment plan so they won’t get it all at once.
The people I’m really concerned about are those who can’t afford such a sum. They will get to see a physician only when they are sick. Never mind staying well.
To summarize
When you turn 65 and go on medicare, you can have a thorough physical which will be covered.
After that, you can schedule “office visits” for particular problems. They will probably be covered.
Otherwise, you are entitled to a “yearly wellness visit” which is a hands-off series of questions.
And check your supplemental insurance to see if it will cover annual physicals without pigging backing on Medicare. It will cost you an additional premium.
I’ll be happy to see comments — maybe contributing additional information
My mother taught me to thank people who do nice things, but in this case I often don’t know who you are. Therefore I’m taking this opportunity to thank the following people who have written reviews on amazon.com for “Figs & Pomegranates & Special Cheeses.” It feels good to be noticed, appreciated, and liked. So thanks to the following (by first name only): Mallory, ihales, Leelah, Beverly, Margaret, Joyce, Lindsay, Joan, and Sarah. I hope you folks will get to see this substitute for a hand-written note. (Remember the old days?)
And, while I’m at it, thanks to those who wrote reviews for her earlier version, “Mrs. Job.” Janice, Andrew, harpo, Sarah, Audrey, Dianna, Pat, Sheila, J, Laurie, D.K., Sheila, Pamela, Justine, and Renate.
It’s people like you who make life good.
Happy Labor Day!
