Last summer, I gave a talk in church. I was assigned to speak on supporting my husband in his priesthood calling. Ignoring the fact that I’d love to see something about how husbands should support their wives in their endeavors, and brushing aside my annoyance that this was an effort to bring me not-so-gently away from feminist ways, I prepared a talk that features my favorite scriptural hero, Deborah.
At any rate, I had a number of women comment that they:
- Never heard of Deborah — which I find sad. A few years ago, one of the last times I was in a Relief Society meeting, the teacher had each of us name a favorite prophet. While everyone else picked old men or dead men, I named Deborah. No one had heard of her in that meeting, either. I think it’s too bad that we’re all taught about male role models, and we don’t have a range of female role models. And those we have are watered down these days, softened to fit roles assigned by gender (Eliza R. Snow, anyone?).
- Wanted a copy of the talk.
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