Reviving Ophelia - Mary Bray Pipher [46]
She rubbed her upper arm. “They made me take vaccinations first in front of the little ones. I was expected to be brave and announce that the shots didn’t hurt. I’m not complaining, though. I am close to my family, much closer than any of my friends.”
We talked about junior high, which was a big change for Jody. She got teased about her hand-me-down clothes and cheap tennis shoes. Her dad wouldn’t let her wear makeup.
Jody looked at me. “Do you have any idea how much drinking goes on?” I nodded and she continued. “I was thrown in with kids from all over town. Kids tried to talk me into drinking and smoking. They swore all the time to prove they were tough. I got left out of things. I’m glad I had sports to keep me busy.”
I asked about difficult times and Jody looked sad for the first time in our interview. “In tenth grade I started dating Jeff. He was a caring person, very sensitive. But after a few months Dad told me I had to stop dating him. At first I was mad. Jeff made me happy and I thought, Why would Dad take this away from me? We even sneaked around for a few dates, but I couldn’t take it. I gave up trying to see him. I still see Jeff in the halls at school and feel bad.”
I asked Jody if she was angry. “I wish Dad would have let me decide, but I’m not mad. He was worried I’d have sex before marriage, and I don’t want to do that. Also, he wanted me to keep my options open and not get serious too young. I can accept that.”
Jody looked out the window. “My locker is in the area where hard-core kids hang out. When I go to my locker I hear a lot of sexual talk. Guys hassle girls and girls come on to guys. I’m sorry that they value themselves so little.”
I could hear Jody’s sisters returning from ball practice. I asked her what else she wanted to tell me. “I want to follow God’s plan for me. Maybe I’ll be a phys. ed. teacher. I want to marry and have a close family like mine.”
She thought for a while. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m too close to my family. I try so hard to be like my aunt and my mom. I wonder if there is a different side of me that I don’t allow myself to look at. Sometimes I feel myself thinking thoughts I’m sure no one in my family ever had.”
“What might that different side of you be like?”
Jody shook her head. “I don’t know. There are so many things I haven’t tried: drama, music, things my family isn’t interested in. Would I like those things?”
Jody’s sisters burst into the room. We greeted them and then I said good-bye to Jody. She hugged me. “I liked this interview,” she said. “It made me think.”
For a high school girl, Jody had a lot of responsibility that she shouldered without complaint. Her life seemed all of one piece. She loved her family and believed as they did in the importance of God and softball. Her appreciative and respectful attitude toward her parents, her lack of self-pity and her industriousness reminded me of Vietnamese girls like Leah.
Psychologists would condemn many of the elements in Jody’s background—the traditional sex roles of the parents; the physical punishments; the lack of lessons, camps and other enrichment experiences; the strict religion and the conformity of family members. They would note that this wasn’t a family that talked much about feelings. Particularly the father’s injunction against dating seems harsh by 1990s standards. Psychologists would question the family’s rigid beliefs. Interest in philosophical questions and self-examination were not encouraged. The parts of Jody that were different from her family would not flower.
I struggled with the questions this interview raised for me. Why would a girl raised in such an authoritarian, even sexist, family be so well liked, outgoing and self-confident? Why did she have less anger and more respect for adults? Why was she so relaxed when many girls are so angst-filled and angry?
I remembered some facts from sociology. There are fewer suicides in authoritarian countries than in more liberal ones. Those facts seem somehow related to Jody’s strength and