SandraFrazier.com
The Official Web site of Sandy Frazier
Artist,
Musician and Writer
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Our Fathers By Sandra Frazier October, 1998 Should we feel personally betrayed, hurt or
disappointed by President Clinton's recent faux pas? I do.
I'll tell you a little story of my very first visit to Washington,
D.C. today, which drove home many a realization for me. First, I'd like to mention, I'm not a
Republican or a Democrat. I do feel
very strongly about women's rights; but do not believe in political parties,
which, to me, cause nothing but arguments and divisiveness in our country. I suppose I've always felt kind of old-fashioned
(the only thing even remotely traditional about me) about the
office of the President, though... that is, until I experienced the
surroundings of his office today, with my own eyes. I'd never before recognized the magnitude of it all! I'd always felt a humble reverence for this,
the highest office of our country. I
remember, as a kid, the first time I became interested in what was happening
in relation to this powerful office, when at 10, I sat and watched the
Watergate hearings while babysitting.
I'd heard Mom and Dad talk of Nixon and remembered the respect they'd
had for him. Personally, I looked up
to and admired our Presidents as Father Figures. Even after I grew up, I thought of them in this way. Women have struggled long and hard and are
finally coming into their own; yet most of us still have a soft spot in our
hearts for Daddy. Even those daddies
who went away or paid very little attention to us; or those who we lost
through divorce or separation. Even
those of us, who were raised in homes where our fathers beat our mothers,
still kind of looked to our daddies for hope and strength - even after they'd
disappointed us time and again. We
came to realize as we grew older and more experienced that they were only men
- not supermen, but human... and flawed, as we all are. We soon had the desire to know more and we
found out details about their shortcomings, their sins and failings in life,
which kind of brought them down a notch or two to our level. And then they were no longer towering,
super heroes. Yet we wanted to
believe that our daddies were great and strong. As the years went by, we met the bitter
women who vehemently snarled, "Men! They're all jerks!" or
"All men are liars!" and tried desperately not to become one
of them, steadfastly re-avowing our faith in marriage and in men. And even when we were hurt by men, our
faith may have been shaken momentarily, but we swore we'd keep trying, if,
for no other reason, to prove that we were above all that. When I saw President Clinton on television
stating emphatically, "I did not have sexual relations with that
woman...," his charisma intact, lying to the camera, lying to us all and
even believing his own lies - convincing to some, not fooled by others... his
eyes and stern insistence seemed woefully familiar. I just knew he was lying. He could flash those baby blues till Christmas and yet I felt
it in my gut... he was lying. He lied
to me. He - a father, a husband, a
friend - purposely set out to deceive me.
The (current) Father, once again, got his priorities all mixed
up and placed his own needs before the needs of his people. During our trip to Washington, D.C., the
first place we visited was the National Archives Building, which, of course,
contains all the precious documents set forth by the Founding Fathers. As we strolled through the line, my
husband said, "Remember that Goldie Hawn movie where she brought those
foreigners in here to see the Declaration of Independence and the Bill of
Rights?" The oft-repeated phrase
of that movie, Protocol, popped into my head: "We the People." Later, as we stood by the gates of the White
House, surrounded by the scurrying white squirrels and wrought-iron benches,
the fragrant flowers and foliage - all the splendor "We the People"
provide for this man who holds a position so highly respected throughout the
world - I started to feel resentment as though my own father had cheated
me. Clinton's flippant attitude and
his apparent low regard for who and where he is and who put him there - how
he'd taken all we've given him for granted - hurt. And the thought of what he'd done and the risks he'd taken
suddenly seemed much more appalling to me. My husband and I had traveled from New York
to see the Van Gogh exhibit at the National Gallery of Art and were taken
aback and quite disappointed, as we approached the gate, when the tour guide
told us (at noon on Saturday!) "No more tours today." We'd come so far and had walked for
miles! I slumped down, defeated, on a
bench and glanced past the rails, peering through dozens of gorgeous trees,
breathing the sweet-scented, delicious air that made the President's world
seem like a paradise. Why can't
we tour the White House today? I
suddenly felt so small and insignificant and my feet hurt. Does the President really feel my
pain? I thought not. He's way to ensconced in luxury, served
fine, gourmet foods and experiencing the best of the best, to understand my
pain. I grasped the cold iron gates,
peeking through the abundant foliage, past the surveillance equipment,
feeling very much left out in the cold. So we continued walking and finally arrived
at the Washington Monument only to reach a sign that read: "Closed for
Renovations." I snapped another
in a series of photos for our documentary on the day - an album of
disappointments. It had been bad
enough that we'd traveled so far by train to see Van Gogh, only to be turned
away. "You've got to get here
very early to get a ticket. Most
people come around 2:00 or 3:00 a.m.," they casually informed us. And then, we found out, they are forced to
wait all night until around 11:00 a.m. just to get a ticket. "But the Web site1
said, 'We the People' own this exhibition and 'Admission is Always
Free!'" I replied to deaf ears.
(The exhibition was so important that it had been featured on
A&E's Biography the week
before.) The reflecting pond, on up to the Lincoln
Memorial, was refreshing - seemingly the only real, pure thing we experienced
during our trip to the nation's capitol; and it brought back memories of
scenes from great films such as Forrest Gump and Nixon. And seeing Lincoln,
perched up on his "throne," I was in awe of a man who represents
all that Clinton is not - a man whose actions told the story of his
character. The statue was so much
bigger than I'd imagined from seeing photos and film! And so we walked on until we could walk no
more and then grabbed a cab up to the Capitol Building where there stood a
line of people waiting to take the tour.
It was two blocks long! Some
had waited for hours. An elderly
woman told us she'd waited five hours for Van Gogh and three to tour the
Capitol. Another girl said she'd come
all the way from Pennsylvania, stood in line from 5:00 a.m. to 11:00, only to
be turned away. A very respectable
doctor/retired veteran, we met on the train going home, had been forced to
buy a ticket for $100 from a scalper for this "free" exhibit, owned
by "We the People." Clinton may not have anything (directly) to
do with our series of disappointments; but his aura and essence was
everywhere and I couldn't help but think, "Where are the good people who
could run for office? The ones who
are courageous and brave... who we can trust and know by their
actions?" I remembered that recently I had the great
honor and privilege of meeting a real super hero, literally a superman
- Christopher Reeve. Most of us know
of the tragic accident, which left this gifted actor paralyzed. I'd felt so inspired by his and his wife's
courage. When I finally got to say a
few words to him, I presented him with a painting and expressed how I'd loved his films and I told him it was
an honor to meet him; they snapped our photo together and it was over. Later, I felt such regret that I might not
have said the right words. I felt
undeserving in his presence, knowing of his tremendous courage and all he was
doing to try to help others. A man that cannot
move, moves so much. He can never again
rise from his chair; yet he
continuously rises to the occasion. I went home and began reading his biography,
Still Me.2 I was sad for him that in his thoughtful
and heartbreaking book (obviously printed prior to Clinton's admissions of
guilt) he'd spoken so highly of President Clinton. How thrilled he and his family were to receive a call from Clinton,
even as Christopher was struggling for his life!3 He said he'd even had a "working
relationship with President Clinton, having campaigned for him in 1992."4 Clinton's administration had tried to help
with Christopher's work; and the President's comments were a great
inspiration to Christopher, as they are to so many in the world today. But are they just words? Clinton's adamant denials, his insulting
games of semantics and his refusal to accept responsibility for his own bad
behavior haunt me. It reflects shades
of Swaggart and Bakker and other tricky sinners... yet non-repentant, brusque
and non-cooperative. And yet, what's
most amazing to me is that women continue to rally in support of the
President, citing all his supposed accomplishments. It's ironic that it's always women whom he
hurts the most; he's made a fool of his own wife, humiliated her in
public and degraded other women. How
can a man claim to be supportive of women and fail so miserably in his own
personal relationships with them?! We women have been taught to accept full
responsibility for our own actions, our own happiness, and so on... to be
independent and strong. Yet the media
and all its damage control airings are trying to convince us that: a) A 23-year-old
intern isn't capable of knowing right from wrong or making informed
decisions; b) A wife, such as
Hillary - smart and savvy though she is - who remains silent and feigns
ignorance of the activities of someone to whom she's been married for 23
years, is a hero and we should admire her "courage;" c) Clinton's
personal activities and character are none of our business; and d) The definition
of 'sex' is debatable. My intelligence is insulted by such
soft-soap compromising of our basic principles. And it's a sin that we've wasted so much time and energy on all
of this silliness. Bob Greene of the Chicago Tribune expressed it so well
in a recent television interview when he stressed how bad it is for the
health of our country to allow the media's focus to wallow constantly in
wall-to-wall, cover-to-cover Clinton shenanigans rather than the reporting of
stories that are so much more deserving.
He cited an example of his recent work on the story of a brave little
boy - a real hero - who left his home one cold night, barefoot, and
walked several miles to the police station to report that his sister was
being kept in a cage; and then he was even courageous enough to testify
against his abusive parents in court.5 A parent should be a strength and guide to
us, which is why I long for my father - A Father - a man, though flawed he
may be, who can look me in the eye and say, "I am resigning from this
great office because I really do feel your pain - all the pain
I, myself, have caused you." And
let us get on with the business of the people instead of wasting more time on
silly scandals and sinfully wasting our resources. Footnotes: 1.
www.nga.gov 2.
Reeve, Christopher. Still Me. Random House, New York, 1998. 3.
Ibid, p. 39. 4.
Ibid, p. 135. 5. "The Wisconsin
Child-Abuse Case" d
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