In a previous blog, I discussed my disgust at an organization of women who I believe are nowhere close to feminist ideals but who purport to be feminists. Personally, I think they are neo-cons attempting to draw in the still-disaffected Hillary supporters. I'd like to go the opposite way and talk about my kid.

My daughter was born in 1986. Her father and I, never on stable ground to begin with, married in order to make her legitimate, but we only lasted three years in the marital state. When she was three years old, we seperated.

I wasn't the greatest mom. There were times when I was neglectful, inattentive, and withdrawn. There were times when I would get angry and yell at her. Until I got much older and did some major life changes, my poor choices caused my little girl a lot of pain.

I make no excuses nor will I go into details about that part of my life. I want to talk about what she has become, and why.

For all my faults, there were certain things I adhered to religiously. I never called my daughter names or insulted her or called her "stupid" or criticized her harshly. I swore I would never raise my child that way. Having grown up thinking one of my names was "goddamn kid", I was adamant that my little girl was not going to hear that from her parents. Her father was of the same mind as I. Together, despite our disliking each other for a while after the divorce, we remained united as far as our kid.

Consequently, my kid grew up hearing that she was smart, and funny, and clever, and inventive, and graceful, and that she could do anything. She heard us loud and clear. Here was a child who was born with strabismus (eyes that cross) and was forced to wear pop bottle glasses from age two, yet she never let that physical defect deter her from her own self-image which was that she was cool. She never lacked for friends from the time she was born. Other kids were drawn to her because she was outgoing, assertive, confident, and playful. She wasn't afraid to stand up for what she believed in, either. One of her teachers told me of an incident at school where a few of the kids were making fun of another kid who had a weight problem, calling the boy "fatty" and other derogatory names. My daughter marched up to the chief offender, a boy a few inches and a few pounds heavier than she, and began lecturing him loudly: "Don't you know it's wrong to make fun of people for the way they look? He can't help the way he is, just like I can't help it that I have to wear glasses! It's mean to make fun of people!" She backed that kid up, and the name-calling stopped. She was fearless, especially when she knew she was right.

Because her dad and I told her she could do anything, she decided she could. Every sport she tried, she strove to be the best. When she announced that she was going to join the band at school when she was in the fourth grade, both her father and I knew that she would not only join, but she'd work her butt off to be a good musician. Sure enough, she is now graduating as a music education major and will begin teaching in less than a year. She plays tenor saxohone and clarinet, and is an accomplished jazz musician.

Another thing I knew I wanted to instill in my daughter was a love of all kinds of people. I wanted her to grow up knowing that everyone has a place in this corner of the universe. She grew up around all kinds of people and knew that all kinds of people were just fine the way they were. Her friends are as diverse as her interests, and she is a loyal and steadfast and compassionate friend to them all. I wanted her to be free of the bigotry and hatred and prejudices of my forebears and my own generation. She never picked up on any of those nasty ideas. She and her friends are blissfully free of the diseases of the past.

My daughter never needed to be taught about her rights as a woman, or her place in the universe. She stepped into life with all the authority of one who is positive that nothing can hold her back. She continues to be that way. In a debate, she is a formidable opponent. In Scrabble and music and politics and sports, she is a force to be reckoned with. In many ways, I see that she has surpassed her mother and grandmother and all those others before because of the natural courage she bears inside her. She remains fearless.

Recently, she and her husband gave me the gift of a little boy, my first grandchild. Now, I watch her apply all that she has become and all that she knows to motherhood, and I am moved to tears. This little boy will become a wonderful man. I know he will.

Gender politics and feminism aside---I choose to see my daughter's gifts as being the sum total of those who have gone before her, with her own strong, vital, loving stamp on them. When we, as parents, can raise our children to be better than us---we have succeeded as parents. I look upon my daughter as a marvelous gift that I launched into the world, but she is her own woman, and her gifts will enhance the next generation and those beyond.