Ellington

The other night, I was watching the special on television about Oprah opening the school for future female leaders in South Africa. Other than being extremely embarrassed that I cried through most of the show, something in one part of it hit me so hard that I continued to tear up for the following few days every time I thought about it.

During the special, Oprah was conducting one-on-one interviews with the girls who were being considered as students for the school. One small girl walked into the interview room, sat in a chair large enough to swallow her tiny frame, and she asked Oprah the most complicated question in the world: "Do you think I am good enough to go to your school?"

I watched Oprah's face crumble the same way mine did. She held it together long enough to say, "Yes, yes, I do." Then she hugged the little girl while trying not to cry. I wasn't doing that well. I was desperately hugging the cat and bawling my eyes out. Christ, I'm writing about it and tearing up right now. Apart from the fact that this shows I probably need a good two more years of therapy, I think it's a moment that as females we all "get."

It wasn't just a question. It was the question. It is such a fundamental question for a 10-year-old to ask. And as much as I think Oprah's altruism is mixed with a hearty dose of capitalistic bitch, I "got" the moment. As an adult, when a child—especially a girl—looks into your face and asks, "Am I good enough?" there is only one answer. Yes. Yes, you are good enough.

While driving with one of my foster children the other day, I had the same kind of moment. This child lived most of her life neglected and never really had someone fix her hair. When I found her, she was dirty and sleeping on the floor in her family's laundry room. One of the first things we did after she was placed in foster care was to take her to a beauty shop and have her braided. After I picked her up that afternoon, she was smiling like I'd never seen her smile. She was bouncing around and—truth be told—she was giving me a little "lip." I didn't mind considering how meek she acted previously. I jokingly looked at her and said, "You must feel pretty today!" Because there is definitely a certain sassiness to a woman when she thinks she looks good.

This 9-year-old looked right back at me and said, "I almost do." All I could think in that moment was how my job as a social worker was to remove the "almost" from that statement.

How often do we as women qualify our feelings about ourselves with an "almost" simply because we don't feel good enough to just "be"? I know I've done it a lot. I almost feel good enough to go after that job. I almost feel good enough to go after that guy. Some days, it's simply, "I almost feel good enough to get out of bed today."

Later, my thoughts centered on the fact that maybe it isn't just my job as a "social worker" to make that "almost" disappear from that statement. Maybe it's simply my job as a woman. I remember when I first discovered that I was a girl. Growing up, I lived on a street with all boys. I ran around with a pack of five of them completely unaware that I was different until one day four of them stood in a line beside a fence, dropped their pants, and began peeing. Not knowing anything could possibly be wrong with a girl doing this, I immediately did the same. This sparked a call from a spying neighbor to my mother informing her that maybe it was time to have "the talk" with me. I was 7 years old.

I remember coming home that day and being told that I couldn't pee outside like the boys—these boys who were my closest friends. My mother carefully explained the differences between our genitalia and I unhappily threw myself on the bed crying. I didn't feel good enough. Such moments often hold deeper meaning for girls than, "I'm no longer allowed to pee outside." Although I flagrantly broke this rule several times in college, the memory of the scene is vivid enough that I know it defined part of me as a female.

In telling this story, I'm not saying that my mother should have told me, "You are good enough to pee outside. Do so often." I'm simply stating that scenes like these punctuate the lives of girls often enough for us to be aware that as older females, we can assure those younger than us in these interactions that there are way cooler things that come along with being female that often aren't punctuated by "not good enough."

There are moments in cars where we can say, "But you are pretty." There are moments in dressing rooms where we can say, "That looks beautiful." There are moments at dinner where we can encourage them to speak their minds. There are even moments on national television when simply telling a 10-year-old, "Yes, you are good enough," reminds the weeping 30-year-old on the couch at home of some things she had forgotten. So, for all you 30-, or 40- or 50+-year-old girls out there: Yes, you are good enough.

Previous Comments

ID

74675

Comment

BUT. Do these tears make my butt look big? You're good enough too sister. Don't blend in; BLEND OUT!

Author

emilyb

Date

2007-03-08T10:25:41-06:00

ID

74676

Comment

Great article, Lori. You know, I'm embarrassed to say that I didn't notice that you stopped using your alias until about a week or two ago. I hadn't been blogging much, so I guess that one slipped by me. I HATE that I missed that special. I don't know how, but I did. ABC, PLEEEEEASE show the program again this summer! I think Oprah is one of the best philanthropists in modern history, and I'm always touched by what does others. Now, if I could just be at a taping at one of those "Oprah's Favorite Things" episodes.

Author

LatashaWillis

Date

2007-03-10T09:22:10-06:00

ID

74677

Comment

L.W.-I have it tivo'd if you're ever in my area. It's truly beautiful. They kids watched it to and learned MUCH about how opportunity they have here that is taken for granted. Those girls are incredible.

Author

emilyb

Date

2007-03-10T09:44:27-06:00

ID

74678

Comment

Thanks, Em. If you still have a VCR, maybe you could transfer it to a tape and send it to me. I don't know if my niece and nephew watched it while my sister was, but I would love for them to see it so they can appreciate what they have.

Author

LatashaWillis

Date

2007-03-10T09:57:12-06:00

ID

74679

Comment

I can do DVD :( Can you play DVD on your computer?

Author

emilyb

Date

2007-03-10T11:57:21-06:00

ID

74680

Comment

Nope. My PC is not up to date. Don't worry about it. I'm sure they'll show the special again this summer.

Author

LatashaWillis

Date

2007-03-10T20:30:27-06:00

ID

74681

Comment

I can't give Oprah enough credit for those schools in Africa. She knows real poverty and hopeless when she sees it. I hope Kate doesn't see this! Lest she thinks I admire Oprah.

Author

Ray Carter

Date

2007-03-13T14:49:31-06:00