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| Mum taught me that being a woman can mean lots of things. She's a true feminist | Mum taught me that being a woman can mean lots of things. She's a true feminist |
| (7 months later) | |
| Growing up in the 70s, I thought everyone’s mum fixed the mower when it broke down. Mine did. It seemed perfectly natural to me that our fruit bowl always contained a few nuts and bolts and that there was always a spanner or two on our kitchen bench. | Growing up in the 70s, I thought everyone’s mum fixed the mower when it broke down. Mine did. It seemed perfectly natural to me that our fruit bowl always contained a few nuts and bolts and that there was always a spanner or two on our kitchen bench. |
| From 1975 my mother ran Melbourne’s only handy-woman service. She dressed in paint stained overalls and old brown work boots, and every day she went out to fix doors and windows and wallpaper and paint houses all over the suburbs of south eastern Melbourne. She even converted garages into one bedroom flats. She would arrive to pick us up from school covered in paint and oil stains, shoving us into the back of her beat up old silver work van with her paint cans, tools and ladder. Her van had no windows in the back or seats, let alone seat belts, and had an internal exhaust fan that made us feel sick on the short trip home. She was the happiest mum I knew. | From 1975 my mother ran Melbourne’s only handy-woman service. She dressed in paint stained overalls and old brown work boots, and every day she went out to fix doors and windows and wallpaper and paint houses all over the suburbs of south eastern Melbourne. She even converted garages into one bedroom flats. She would arrive to pick us up from school covered in paint and oil stains, shoving us into the back of her beat up old silver work van with her paint cans, tools and ladder. Her van had no windows in the back or seats, let alone seat belts, and had an internal exhaust fan that made us feel sick on the short trip home. She was the happiest mum I knew. |
| Mum was a feminist without ever having heard the word. Born into a staunchly Catholic Italian immigrant family in the 1940s, she spoke no English until she was taught by the nuns when she started school. Her two brothers were never expected to lift a finger while mum, as the only female child, had to help her mother keep house, caring for them and her father. It was understood that her most important job of all was to be well groomed and feminine in preparation for an arranged marriage to an Italian man. | Mum was a feminist without ever having heard the word. Born into a staunchly Catholic Italian immigrant family in the 1940s, she spoke no English until she was taught by the nuns when she started school. Her two brothers were never expected to lift a finger while mum, as the only female child, had to help her mother keep house, caring for them and her father. It was understood that her most important job of all was to be well groomed and feminine in preparation for an arranged marriage to an Italian man. |
| The day a potential bridegroom and his family were invited to afternoon tea to discuss marriage, Mum tipped a tea tray all over him | The day a potential bridegroom and his family were invited to afternoon tea to discuss marriage, Mum tipped a tea tray all over him |
| In her youth, she did her duty at home, toiling away beside her own mother. Together they mopped floors, laundered, cooked and kept the house spotless. Mum made sure she looked the part with her well-coiffed long hair, manicured nails and stylish dresses. But she was always a rebel. While she looked every inch the well-groomed Italian girl, in secret she followed her father around the house, begging to be allowed to hold his tools, always watching him closely and learning. At school, she was the fastest runner, determined to prove that she could keep up with and even outrun the boys. | In her youth, she did her duty at home, toiling away beside her own mother. Together they mopped floors, laundered, cooked and kept the house spotless. Mum made sure she looked the part with her well-coiffed long hair, manicured nails and stylish dresses. But she was always a rebel. While she looked every inch the well-groomed Italian girl, in secret she followed her father around the house, begging to be allowed to hold his tools, always watching him closely and learning. At school, she was the fastest runner, determined to prove that she could keep up with and even outrun the boys. |
| The day a potential bridegroom and his family were invited to afternoon tea to discuss marriage, Mum tipped a tea tray all over him, bringing negotiations to an abrupt halt. I don’t know whether she was brave or desperate that day. Her biggest rebellion, when it came, was so bold it was unthinkable. She announced at the kitchen table that she was going to wed an Englishman, at which her father turned to my grandmother and said coldly “Put on your blacks. Your daughter is dead.” For the sin of marrying outside her culture he didn’t speak to his daughter for six months. | The day a potential bridegroom and his family were invited to afternoon tea to discuss marriage, Mum tipped a tea tray all over him, bringing negotiations to an abrupt halt. I don’t know whether she was brave or desperate that day. Her biggest rebellion, when it came, was so bold it was unthinkable. She announced at the kitchen table that she was going to wed an Englishman, at which her father turned to my grandmother and said coldly “Put on your blacks. Your daughter is dead.” For the sin of marrying outside her culture he didn’t speak to his daughter for six months. |
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| Mum’s marriage to the Englishman, my father, was a love story that lasted a lifetime. The woman dad married was a stunning, impeccably groomed, Italian princess who changed the sheets and vacuumed the house daily. But early in their marriage he gently told her that she didn’t have to do that to please him. He told her that he loved her for who she was, not how well she kept house, and that was the beginning of the mum I have always known and loved. | Mum’s marriage to the Englishman, my father, was a love story that lasted a lifetime. The woman dad married was a stunning, impeccably groomed, Italian princess who changed the sheets and vacuumed the house daily. But early in their marriage he gently told her that she didn’t have to do that to please him. He told her that he loved her for who she was, not how well she kept house, and that was the beginning of the mum I have always known and loved. |
| It wasn’t until I reached upper primary school that I started to realise she was different to all the other mums with her short hair and overalls, a far cry from all the other feminine, neatly presented Catholic mothers collecting their children from our school. I wonder now what those mums made of her. Did they admire her? Did they think she was gay? O did they think she wanted to be a man? | It wasn’t until I reached upper primary school that I started to realise she was different to all the other mums with her short hair and overalls, a far cry from all the other feminine, neatly presented Catholic mothers collecting their children from our school. I wonder now what those mums made of her. Did they admire her? Did they think she was gay? O did they think she wanted to be a man? |
| I know what men thought. I witnessed time and again that no matter how she dressed or what she did for a living, she was a woman, and women in the 1970s and 80s needed “help” with all things “male”. | I know what men thought. I witnessed time and again that no matter how she dressed or what she did for a living, she was a woman, and women in the 1970s and 80s needed “help” with all things “male”. |
| This was never more obvious to me than after dad died when mum was just 44 years old. | This was never more obvious to me than after dad died when mum was just 44 years old. |
| To cope with her grief, she decided to build us an in-ground swimming pool. By herself. She dug the hole, concreted it and tiled it. | To cope with her grief, she decided to build us an in-ground swimming pool. By herself. She dug the hole, concreted it and tiled it. |
| Yet in the middle of this, mum had to down tools, while well-meaning male friends and neighbours came to visit to offer sage advice about how to change the oil in the car or fix the mower. I often had to retreat to my room for a giggle. I mean, honestly, who did they think had been doing these things all these years? I loved my dad but he was much more likely to have had a book or a guitar in his hand than a hammer. | Yet in the middle of this, mum had to down tools, while well-meaning male friends and neighbours came to visit to offer sage advice about how to change the oil in the car or fix the mower. I often had to retreat to my room for a giggle. I mean, honestly, who did they think had been doing these things all these years? I loved my dad but he was much more likely to have had a book or a guitar in his hand than a hammer. |
| All of these men were judging mum’s knowledge and ability purely on her gender and nothing else. It was a wake-up call for me as a young person. I’d grown up in a family where that just didn’t happen. | All of these men were judging mum’s knowledge and ability purely on her gender and nothing else. It was a wake-up call for me as a young person. I’d grown up in a family where that just didn’t happen. |
| Mum never judged people based on their gender or their gender expression. She didn’t assume that because they were men they would know how to use a plane saw. She never assumed that all women would enjoy makeup and dresses either. | Mum never judged people based on their gender or their gender expression. She didn’t assume that because they were men they would know how to use a plane saw. She never assumed that all women would enjoy makeup and dresses either. |
| I think mum has always been open. Perhaps because she has always felt a little bit different. At her first office job, she made her first real friends outside her extended family. One she became especially close to was a young, fun loving, tender hearted young man. He and mum were both outsiders. Mum was the Italian girl who knew nothing of Australian culture and wasn’t allowed to socialise outside her family circle. He lived a very solitary life also. He would come to work dressed as a man but outside of work wore dresses and makeup. | I think mum has always been open. Perhaps because she has always felt a little bit different. At her first office job, she made her first real friends outside her extended family. One she became especially close to was a young, fun loving, tender hearted young man. He and mum were both outsiders. Mum was the Italian girl who knew nothing of Australian culture and wasn’t allowed to socialise outside her family circle. He lived a very solitary life also. He would come to work dressed as a man but outside of work wore dresses and makeup. |
| From older mums to the happily childless: what does Mother’s Day mean today? | |
| The two outsiders found a special connection. Neither of them were fitting into cultural expectations. Their bond reached outside work and continued after mum married and had children. I was old enough to remember the day the phone call came to say that her friend had died by suicide. Mum was inconsolable. Sad and angry that the world had not been ready for him. As a young child, I remember thinking the same thing. Why was it such a big deal that he wore dresses and makeup? Why were people so judgemental? | The two outsiders found a special connection. Neither of them were fitting into cultural expectations. Their bond reached outside work and continued after mum married and had children. I was old enough to remember the day the phone call came to say that her friend had died by suicide. Mum was inconsolable. Sad and angry that the world had not been ready for him. As a young child, I remember thinking the same thing. Why was it such a big deal that he wore dresses and makeup? Why were people so judgemental? |
| Without trying, just by being herself, my mum taught me about true feminism. That gender comes from within. If you really want to know someone, don’t judge them by looking at them. Talk to them. And listen. | Without trying, just by being herself, my mum taught me about true feminism. That gender comes from within. If you really want to know someone, don’t judge them by looking at them. Talk to them. And listen. |
| She taught me that not everyone fits into neat little boxes, whether it’s gender identity, gender expression, what you wear, or the expectations of your culture and family. | She taught me that not everyone fits into neat little boxes, whether it’s gender identity, gender expression, what you wear, or the expectations of your culture and family. |
| She taught me that being a woman can mean lots of different things. For me, being a woman means that I am strong, and my interests and achievements are mine alone to choose, and the last thing they are limited by is my gender. | She taught me that being a woman can mean lots of different things. For me, being a woman means that I am strong, and my interests and achievements are mine alone to choose, and the last thing they are limited by is my gender. |
| • Jo Hirst is an advocate for trans and gender diverse children and the author of The Gender Fairy, and A House for Everyone | • Jo Hirst is an advocate for trans and gender diverse children and the author of The Gender Fairy, and A House for Everyone |
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