Ms. Goody Two-Shoes Lives On

“A Mormon Mother” was the way I was described as my Prop 8 video was linked around the internet. I can’t blame them, I am the one who introduces the topic of gay marriage with mention of one of my children, and when I identify “who I really am” I use the number of children I have to help earn credibility with my listeners.

Because I had never spoken publicly against a church policy, I wanted my video to be above reproach with nothing anyone could possibly disagree with. When my first take sounded angry, I insisted we shoot it again. I used emotionally based appeals, complimented the motives of my opponent and only asserted myself as an expert in the role that my LDS tradition defined as mine – in being a mother. I was attempting to appeal to a Mormon audience, and my tactics resulted in a product that was both successful and stifling. Part of its appeal that week was disbelief that the institution would try to silence someone as innocent as I appeared.

As I watch the video from the distance of two years  I find power in my sincerity, my sympathetic situation and my likability.  I am immensely proud that I put it back up because I believe in its message and because I did so despite incredible fear and discomfort of having people I love be ashamed of me and not approve of my actions.

But I wonder at the same time if my approach that made my video so relatable and successful also set the women’s movement back  (I speak in jest a bit here as I certainly understand that my actions alone can not make or break a larger movement)? Can a woman speak forcefully and be likable in the LDS community and how important is the likability part in persuasion?

I feel like Exhibit A from the book The Curse of the Good Girl where author Rachel Simmons argues that “in idealizing the ‘good girl’ – unerringly nice, polite, modest and selfless – we teach girls to embrace a version of selfhood that curtails their power and potential.”

“Despite every door that has opened, girls continue to grapple with confusing, conflicting messages about personal authority: be successful but say nothing about it, or about yourself; be strong but don’t make anyone angry; and be confident, but do it ‘quietly.'”

My husband also made a video, one that appeared on Andrew Sullivan’s The Daily Dish during the Prop 8 campaign. His arguments came across as such, with appeals to the church’s former stance on the role of government in regulating secular marriage (ie the days of polygamy). And he never mentions how many children he has.

As I consider the gender roles that influenced my own decisions about how to speak out, I also see my gender as an issue in some of the response I received. While the majority of comments were directed to my argument and tactics, or at least the idea of religion in general, sprinkled throughout were comments about my hair, my weight, my makeup, and my sexual appeal. I was surprised by how I could feel both flattered and cheap reading them (the complimentary ones, that is). Just like a whistle on the street, hearing you’re a MILF can be a boost to the ego. But there’s something about having a total stranger see you bare your soul and the only thing they have publicly to say about you relates to how they would use your body, and it starts getting a little creepy.

I’m surprised at how much I now see gender at play in my actions and their response. I had assumed that because the internet was a modern technology, the communication would follow suit as more progressive. But I still see traces of traditional gender roles in both the way I present myself and some of the response I got. What gender roles do you see at play in internet communication?