I have a confession to make. I wanted a girl. It’s true. I know I wasn’t supposed to care, I was supposed to be happy with a healthy baby. (And I was.) There weren’t any specific reasons why I wanted a daughter, but I did. So I spent nine months hoping, and then we finally found out.
Josh and I didn’t know what we were having until the moment Choochie finally made her way out into the world, at which point Josh said, “It’s a boy! No, it’s a girl! I can’t tell!” (It had been a very long four days.) When the midwife told us that she was, in fact, a girl, I was really happy. I think the first words out of my mouth were, “Oh, thank G-d I don’t have to plan a bris.” The midwife must have thought we were both nuts.
It never occurred to me that I wouldn’t want a girl. I grew up with strong female role models, including my grandmothers and mother, and my sisters and I always felt as wanted and loved as our younger brother. And yet, according to Anne Firth Murray*, “of the 68 million girls born around the world annually, the majority are greeted with varying degrees of disappointment by relatives hoping for a boy” (p. 18). Murray goes on to describe the ways in which being born female is a risk factor from the very beginning – even if baby girls make it to a healthy birth, and survive infancy, they will be more likely to be neglected and have less access to food and health care than their brothers. They will grow up with fewer educational and economic opportunities, and face violence and discrimination throughout their lives. I would like to think that the United States is beyond this, yet, as Murray notes 1 in 3 American women will “experience violence at the hands of an intimate partner – about the same level as for women around the world” (p. 19).
When my daughter was born, just 12 days before Barack Obama was elected to be the 44th President, hope was in the air. I had never before heard so many people talking about the election, caring about the election, and wishing for something to change. As Josh and I pushed Choochie’s stroller through town to our local voting station, I marvelled at the fact that my daughter would grow up in a world where an African-American man from a interracial couple can become the leader of the most powerful nation on earth. I thought he would be a good president. I hoped he would be a great president.
When I heard him speak in Cairo last week, I was not disappointed. Especially when he took time to address women’s rights – something I never heard our former President do. Here is what he said:
“The sixth issue that I want to address is women’s rights.
I know there is debate about this issue. I reject the view of some in the West that a woman who chooses to cover her hair is somehow less equal, but I do believe that a woman who is denied an education is denied equality. And it is no coincidence that countries where women are well-educated are far more likely to be prosperous.
Now let me be clear: issues of women’s equality are by no means simply an issue for Islam. In Turkey, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Indonesia, we have seen Muslim-majority countries elect a woman to lead. Meanwhile, the struggle for women’s equality continues in many aspects of American life, and in countries around the world.
Our daughters can contribute just as much to society as our sons, and our common prosperity will be advanced by allowing all humanity – men and women – to reach their full potential. I do not believe that women must make the same choices as men in order to be equal, and I respect those women who choose to live their lives in traditional roles. But it should be their choice. That is why the United States will partner with any Muslim-majority country to support expanded literacy for girls, and to help young women pursue employment through micro-financing that helps people live their dreams.”
I would like to highlight twelve words that our President said, words that we Americans might take for granted. Our daughters can contribute just as much to society as our sons. In a world where parents selectively abort female fetuses, or encourage midwives to kill newborn daughters, our President’s statement should not be taken lightly. There are many who, for historical, cultural, and economic reasons, quite simply do not believe that our daughters are just as valuable as our sons. I know. It’s hard to believe.
Our country, and our world have a long way to go towards equal rights for girls and women, and it was meaningful to hear a man, an extremely powerful man, acknowledge this sad truth. In the meanwhile, I will continue to feel blessed and lucky to have been born into a family and a community that welcomes and embraces daughters, and I hope my own daughter will feel the same way.
If you’d like to learn more about the challenges that women face internationally, read Anne Firth Murray’s book (listed below) or check out the Global Fund for Women. If you want to hear more about what women are doing right now to make a difference, listen to this amazing piece on NPR about Iranian women and the One Million Signatures Campaign.
* Murray, A.F. (2008). From Outrage to Courage: Women Taking Action for Health and Justice. Monroe, ME: Common Courage Press.





