She and My Granddad
by David Huddle
My grandfather—who died in 1970—
the year Sexual Politics was published—
called objects—screwdrivers, blow torches, trucks
—and sometimes even abstractions—winter,
pain, time—by the singular feminine
pronoun—she or her. For instance he would say,
I reckon she's coming up on quitting time,
or (of a favorite hammer), I guess
she ain't nowhere to be found. Kate Millett,
asked about the future of the woman's movement,
said, How in the hell do I know? I don't run it,
to which Granddad—at war with Gradmama all
my life but drawn to women, always polite—
would have said, Yes ma'am, can't nobody run her.
Reprinted with permission of the author at The Writer's Almanac.
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She and My Granddad by David Huddle
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Posted 2011-July-07, 05:14
If you lose all hope, you can always find it again -- Richard Ford in The Sportswriter
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