Growing up, I couldn't rely on so-called feminine disadvantages to get out of physical labour.
Why?
I was never told I had any.
Case in point: On my 16th birthday my mom presented me with a unique gift.
It was just a simple, beautiful card. In it, she wrote a letter to explain she would teach me how to renovate a bathroom right down to switching out a toilet. The lessons included laying linoleum, stripping wallpaper, painting walls and installing a sink and faucet.
And I was thrilled. Not only was I getting to learn all these things, I had in my hand a promise to spend some really fun, hard-working time with my mom.
As you can imagine, the brand new bedroom that resulted was just a temporary gift. Over the long course of time I've looked back on that project to remind myself that not only can I do those things, so can my mom. I have no doubts in her abilities, and to this day if I'm doubting my own strengths I know with a quick call or text she'll boost me back up.
But she didn't always boost me up in ways I appreciated. This path to self-sufficiency began early and was consistent. Often, she left me failing in the wind to figure it all out on my own.
"You got yourself into this, you can get yourself out of it," she'd say.
The phrase is glued into my psyche like bubble gum in a little girl's hair. Now it may shock some of today's kids to learn that parents didn't always run to the rescue. We weren't bubble wrapped by our parents decades ago. By and large, we were left to eat dirt and roam the neighbourhoods. It was as terrific as it sounds.
And any precarious situation I've ever found myself in — stuck upside-down behind furniture, at the revenge-end of a sibling fight, failing a class — was bound to solicit that sing-song, somewhat taunting refrain. I dreaded the words, unless they were aimed at a brother.
But eventually a funny thing happened; I started telling myself the exact same thing.
"I got myself into this mess," I'll say, taking a deep breath while assessing whatever stupid thing I've done. "I can find a way out."
And it's true.
The first few times I tried to figure things out for myself it was just to avoid hearing her say it. But at some point, I believe it was when I became a mother myself, I realized she was right.
I can get unstuck. I can do it. I am capable.
By standing back and letting me struggle just a little, she taught me self confidence, problem solving, and independence in ways no lesson plan ever could. Between letting me sink or swim, and showing me my capabilities, she was intrinsically and very purposefully giving me a solid foundation in 'girl power.'
It helped that my stepdad was a contractor with a shop full of power tools. It was under his tutelage I learned not just how to measure, but to do it twice and cut once (although I don't always follow the rule). He also taught me how to build furniture, clean a worksite, install drywall, and even prep a wall for stucco.
And the entire time, both parents encouraged me to follow my dreams, explore the arts, be myself, and focus on school.
On March 8, it's International Women's Day, a time to take stock of our progress as a society toward gender equality and honour the contributions women have made and are making. While the massive shifts — suffrage, workplace gains, and access to health care — all took place long before my time, the sexes could still use some balancing.
A lot of what remains is how we raise our children. This means preparing them for struggles, teaching them their full worth, and giving them a level playing field. It could look like ensuring boys and girls have equally difficult chores, or signing them up for non-traditional activities and sports. It could look like welcoming a daughter or granddaughter into a woodshop and handing her a hammer, or not rescuing her from an argument with a brother.
Whatever small and large strides you're taking towards women's equality, know this. If you believe she can do it herself, she'll believe it, too.