Moobs

Each Sunday I take the girls to church. Sophia sees it as a play group. She meets her friend, O and they lie in front of a row of pews colouring in and chatting. Other mothers, sensing a budding playgroup wander over with their toddlers and then sneak away. Lessons are quickly learnt about the need to share and not fretting because your prize pink Crayola twistable is being inserted by a toddler into its nose.

Sara hops between scribbling in a pad and mooching over to me in search of a hug. Sophia loves the “sign of peace”. She sets off, paw out-stretched, determined to shake the hand of every congregant. “Just a representative sample!” I call after her as she makes her way down the aisle like Bill Clinton at a fund-raising hog-roast.

After mass is done, they both rush to light a candle. I have never heard Sara’s prayer. Sophia always asks God to look after our long-deceased cat. If he is in (what I assume must be called) Purrgatory, his soul will be flying out of the other side like a furry nerf bullet whilst others languish. The sheer consistency of the petitioning is bound to catch the attention of the Almighty. Thence to Holy Communion preparation classes for Sara. Today the parents were asked to stay for a session of our own. It began with the cathecist explaining the Trinity in a way which appeared to have been closely modelled on the Sabellian or Modal heresy. She then moved on to suggest that we should always bow to the cross in church as that was where Jesus was present. That seemed a pretty textbook case of idolatry. They worry me these people. Next time I’m going dressed as Torquemada.

Sister D then rose to address the topic of how children should behave in church. I couldn’t catch the exact words but I’m confident I have the gist:

– God is grumpy and disapproving.
– God abhors the sound of children.
– Though the kingdom of heaven may be belong to little children, they must behave as much like adults as possible at all times.
– Church may be a community but don’t let children greet their friends during mass.
– The purpose of some rules is to allow you to demonstrate obedience. There is no need for any other purpose.
– Silent conformity is a key element of respect.
– Needing the loo is disrespectful to God.

I decided today that I need a new font. So much of my life is spent capturing my under-reasoned opinions in convoluted sentences. I have an urge to express myself in a typeface that will give the sense of sparse precision.

So far, I have not found what I want. But this is the font I hate more than any other. And you?

An inevitable part of fatherhood is striving to ensure that your children’s future is a bright one. Today I realised that, without a very substantial change in how the world presently works, my girls have looming out of the future at them fear and upset that they will find it almost impossible to avoid.

I am ashamed to say that this comes as news to me. I know that is easily said, but I really am, at this very moment, gripped with shame.

The lack of input on this blog is a function of the amount of time that I have been spending over the last two years or so on Twitter, initially as @moobs but now using my real name. I follow an account called @everydaysexism which is linked to a site which allows women to submit the own experiences of the sort of sexism they regularly encounter. Today they have focused on casual public sexual harassment. If you want to read the material, search on twitter using the hashtag #shoutingback. At 9 am this morning, had you asked me if women encountered harassment on the street I would have readily acknowledged that they did. Of course, I would have said, some women might, if unlucky, find themselves in uncomfortable situations from time to time. I had no idea.

Half an hour of browsing through the tweets made four things very plain: First, it is a universal experience. The overwhelming weight of testimony was moving, terrifying and eye-opening. Second, it is a frequent thing. Women described harassment as a day to day experience. Third, its nature was of the utmost seriousness. It was not a creepy wink from a passerby but frightening abuse from men in vehicles; men invading personal space at bus stops at night; 13 year old girls being molested on trains; drunken men angry at rejection … Fourth, the effect was profound – many of those tweeting talked about living with fear constantly. Experience had taught them to see men as dangerous. This plain-speaking blog summarises the message in many of the tweets.

Shame on me that I could have got to my age, surrounded by women I love and have been ignorant of this. Shame on me. This is not the world I want for my daughters. It is not the world I want for anyone. I will do my part. I will not let harassment go unchallenged.