Her hands sit beside her
Her voice is mild, almost sweet
I ask her about her daughter
She replies with affection
And when a group of men come into the room
And when a group of men come into the room
Everything changes
Her hands start flying out
She starts banging the table
Her voice rises
I suddenly notice
That she is wearing a waistcoat
A shirt, trousers, and a modi
waistcoat
The attire that has come to
symbolize
Formal, authoritative dressing in
our times
I know she is putting on a
performance
And yet I also know
Why
She knows they will not respect her
If she is mild and sweet
To be a leader
Is to leave behind your sweetness
To be a leader is to command
To push, to exert
To carry your decisions through
To be a man, in short
Or what a 'manly man' is supposed
Anything less, or anything else,
is a sign of weakness
I wish she had known what I know
That it’s ok not to be a man
And you can still be whatever you
want
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