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She and My Granddad


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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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