The Inevitability of South Carolina

I was half listening to the Nightly News the other evening when I heard about a car driving into the beach at Daytona.  I harrumphed, because I had visited Daytona Beach a couple of years ago and was totally flummoxed by the fact that cars drive up and down that beautiful beach just because, well, they can.  I just assumed some idiot had gotten distracted.

But as I watched further, it was apparent that this was a different matter entirely.  A woman with three children in a minivan intentionally turned and drove into the surf.  The children were screaming for help, and the oldest trying to wrestle the steering wheel from his mother.  Others on the beach responded to the obvious distress and rescued mother and three children.

As I listened, I felt a bizarre sense of inevitability.  I almost said the words along with the commentator:  the woman was from South Carolina.

In 1994, Susan Smith achieved national notoriety when she claimed that her two children had been abducted by a black man; after a nine day search, she admitted that in fact she had pushed her car into a lake, drowning her sons.  Her stepfather, a Christian Coalition leader, admitted to having sexually molested Smith.

I only relate that story because, as with Ebony Wilkerson, it is pretty much a checklist of what is wrong with South Carolina.  A mentally disturbed woman, victim of spousal and/or sexual abuse, responsible for children.  It turns out that three days earlier, Wilkerson had called 911 from her Myrtle Beach home to report having been raped by her husband.  He had also been arrested and charged with battery in 2005.  This time around, the Myrtle Beach police appear to have been "still investigating" the call when questioned three days after she attempted to kill herself and her children.

Earlier on that same day in Daytona, her sister called the police and reported that Ebony was delusional, talking about Jesus and demons.  They actually stopped her on the road, but had no reason to hold her.

Wilkerson was 27 weeks pregnant.

Obviously, in both South Carolina and Florida, attempts were made to intervene.  But this woman had been wrestling with crises that needed intervention a long time ago.

Here in South Carolina, our governor is working hard to deny people food stamps and health care, two pieces of a struggle that could be easily addressed for so many of us.  More difficult problems of mental illness, spousal assault and isolation would require hard work from our government.  Ebony Wilkerson has had contacts with various government services, and they have been inadequate.

Poverty, racism, inadequate education, lack of family assistance, inadequate health and mental health outreach, lack of sex education and family planning, failure to pursue and prosecute the abusers of women.

I could go on.

It's been quite a number of years since Susan Smith drowned her children.  Sadly, South Carolina continues to be number 1 (or right up there) in all the wrong things.

Isn't it time we stopped worrying about whether we should be feeding people who don't have jobs and just feed them?  And how about knocking it off about the evils of the Affordable Care Act, and taking that Medicaid expansion?
  
Then maybe we can begin to address those tragedies that can be prevented with commitment and work.



   

--isms

I'm currently reading a book about women in politics, that begins with the 2008 presidential primary race between a woman and a black man.  Hillary v. Barack is rife with misunderstandings and overanalysis between women of both camps, and manipulations of those sensitivities by mostly white men.

As I'm reading it occurs to me that there is one "ism" that is not addressed, ever.  As a 62 year old woman I've been invisible for some time.  Friendly smiles don't mean respect for my brain; I have eventually become that sweet old lady that lived in the era before women had a clue.

A few days ago, at lunch with a number of other women, most of whom were also in their 60's, the young, cocky male waiter came up to us and asked, "What can I get for you girls?"  "Girls?" one of my friends asked in astonishment.  The young man in his turn was puzzled at the fuss.  Imagine him walking up to a group of men and asking what he could get for "you boys."  Doesn't happen.

Ageism is the ism that dare not be spoken.  Just as I did back in the 60's, the young continue to treat the old as though age=stupidity and that they have just invented the world in which they happily live.  And the worst of all ageisms is that combined with sexism.  Don't call me "honey," and don't call me by my first name.  Amazingly, I've settled for "Ms." although I have a doctorate, and I am thrilled when I'm not called "Mrs." or "Miss," neither of which is accurate as I am one of those dinosaurs here in 2014 who is married and kept the name of my family of origin (also barbarically still called a "maiden name.")

Sure it's nice to have someone offer me a seat on a crowded bus, although I would surely stand if someone less physically able were to board.  It's kind of nice that people who don't know me smile at me because they don't know what a curmudgeon I really am.  Good reasons not to ever want to dye my white hair.

But, people, my brain has not changed.  I'm still pretty smart, and probably know a lot more about the world around me (except for technology) than most under-thirties.  I also have something it will take years for them to gain, a historical perspective of what's going on.  Not just because I've been there, but because over the years I've become more open to what happened in the world before my time.

When I was preschool age, my younger sister and I were sitting in a parking lot in the back seat of my father's car.  Bored and silly, we noticed a nice older woman sitting in the car next to us.  We began to wave.  She gave us the finger.

And good for her.  At some point, I got the message.