Is Mike Pence sexist?

Is Mike Pence sexist, because he won’t eat alone with a woman other than his wife?

The Internet is howling with rage over this believing that it indicates:

1.       That men are naturally without self-control.

2.       That this will keep women from advancing professionally.

3.       That it is indicative of male control and domination.

4.       And a lot of other silly things.

I say it is smart.

He is not saying that he would never be alone in the same room with a woman under any circumstances.  I suspect there are times when he is on one side of the desk in an office situation and a woman is on the other.  The door may or may not be open, but someone else is nearby.  Please note, this is not a hotel room with a bed.

I have been alone in a room with men many times.  As a nurse, I have seen patients in a room with the door closed and asked questions of a personal nature in a professional manner.  I have tutored male students in enclosed cubicles.  I have met with a male employer in his office with the door closed.

But…

That is different than going out to dinner with someone.  A dinner situation is not just professional.  There is an element of socializing mixed in.  There is opportunity for closer physical proximity than sitting across an office desk from one another.  The possibility of the line between professional and personal being blurred by either party exists.  If one wishes to protect his/her marriage and not give any appearance of impropriety, a two-some for dinner is not a good idea.  I would say that in the current climate even a male/male dinner or a female/female dinner that is supposed to be professional should include a third party.

Of course, I go out to lunch with lady friends.  But, the occasion doesn’t mix personal and professional.

A person who is in the spotlight, as a high-ranking politician, is going to be a target for any possibility of scandal.  There are folks prowling around just looking for some salacious tidbit.  He needs to be circumspect.

There are plenty of ways to interact professionally without a one-on-one dinner.  A wise man will use those opportunities to take the measure of the women in his circle and encourage their advancement.  He will respect them and his wife enough to protect both their reputations and his own.

I so want it to be true.

“Can it be true? Has Thylacinus been seen alive? And in mainland Australia not Tasmania? I so want it to be true.”  Richard Dawkins on Twitter.

Recently there have been reported sightings of a thylacine, aka the Tasmania tiger.  This creature has been thought to be extinct since the last one in captivity died in 1936.  Over the years, sightings have been ignored, but the recent ones are from reliable witnesses.  Cameras are going to be deployed in the area of the sightings to see if the existence can be photographically verified.

The thylacine is a most interesting creature.  It is a marsupial, i.e. it has a pouch, and possesses some characteristics that seem dog-like and others which are cat-like.  Its pouch is unique in that it opens to the rear, and both males and females have them.

The reemergence of such a unique animal, thought to be extinct, would certainly be cause for excitement.

I am, however, saddened that Dawkins a most renowned atheist, cannot express any excitement over the possible existence of a God.  Although not seen with the physical eye, God has been observed by millions of reliable witnesses.  His handiwork is visible with the physical eye and photographable.  Dawkins is evidently capable of ignoring these reports, and certainly feels no excitement over them.

What if he said, “Can it be true?  Has God been seen alive?  And on earth, not in heaven.  I so want it to be true.”

Now that would be exciting and newsworthy!

Here is the primary difference.  It is not scientific, and it does not hinge on how reliable the witnesses are.  If the Tasmanian tiger is found to be alive, Dawkins can be intellectually interested and intrigued, but it will require no change in his life or world view.  If the existence of God were to be verified, it would turn his world upside down…. or in my opinion, right side up, a most frightening possibility for him.

Ineffectual in the Face of Grief

I was there on an awful morning and watched as young parents were given heartbreaking news.  I was there and so ineffectual.  I blamed it on my youth, but I wonder if I would be any more helpful now.  What does anyone do or say faced with overwhelming despair?

In the spring of 1965, I spent three months at Children’s Memorial Hospital on Chicago’s north side.  The hospital, which was a very large complex occupying a triangular block, apparently closed in 2012.  It is hard to imagine a site where so much of significance happened in so many lives, as going out of existence.

I was in my senior year of nursing school, and this three-month stint was my pediatric nursing education.  We attended classes, but we also worked in the hospital nearly every day.  We had a variety of experiences as we worked days, evenings and nights.  There was even one toddler unit where a student was in charge on the night shift.  But, something we were not supposed to do was work in the Intensive Care Unit.  The truth, however, was that when the ICU was short-staffed, they sometimes called one of the other units and requested that a student be sent up to help.  This had to be a student perceived as being able to cope with what went on in the ICU.  The student would not be assigned to the patients requiring the most technical care…I only saw the babies who had had open heart surgery through the plate glass windows of their room.  But, I was pulled to the ICU three times. I know I was viewed as a cracker-jack, but it was easy to get in over one’s head there.

On the day of this particular agony, I was assigned to a toddler girl who was in continuous convulsions.  She lived with her parents in a Chicago tenement which was sufficiently deteriorated to afford her a supply of plaster and paint chips to eat.  The lead content of these materials had caused immense neurological damage.  Her physical care was keeping me very occupied.  I don’t remember the details now other than the jerking motions racking her poor little body with no let-up, in spite of medications and a cooling mattress.

A young doctor, a resident, I suppose, came in to talk with the parents.  He did not sit them down and approach his topic gently.  While standing in a crowded space between the bed and the window, he unceremoniously delivered the information that their child would either die or be a vegetable.  There was no possibility of recovery.

The young couple sobbed and clung to each other. 

I was in up to my eyeballs with the physical care of the child, but I wonder now, if I was using that as an excuse.  I had no idea what to say or how to say it.  I was barely twenty years old myself.  How was I to cope when confronted with this raw wound torn in their souls?

I don’t remember what happened afterward.  I think the parents left….probably to seek the comfort and consolation of support from the wider family.  The child and I both survived the eight hour shift.

I have thought of this many times over the years.  Especially, when I owned an apartment rented to a young couple with a toddler.  Unknown to me was the fact that the child had an elevated blood lead level when they moved in.  It dropped during the first six months they lived in my apartment which was lovely and had no chipped paint or loose plaster.  I found out when it sky-rocketed during the second six months.  It was reported, and a state inspector came in.  Even though the level had initially dropped and the inspector could find no deterioration of concern, the assumption was that my apartment was somehow at fault.  Before I could legally rent the apartment again, I was made to do thousands of dollars of work which was basically unnecessary.  When I protested, I was lectured on the horrors of lead poisoning.

Believe me, I was much clearer on the horrors of lead poisoning than the state inspector was.  She had never cared for a child convulsing.  She had never felt helpless in the presence of overwhelming grief.