It’s Not My Place: So How Do I Make It?

Up front, I must apologize for the length of this post. It is a lot of back-story, but I feel that this information is relevant to the question that I pose.

I discovered Feministing recently with StumbleUpon. I have since come back regularly, both on my own and with SU. Coming from an extremely rural background (raised in the deep south, with deeply misogynistic family members and having been of the brainwashed boy-crazy teenager variety myself) I am a fairly recent discoverer of feminism, but feel as though it is something I have been trying my entire life to attach words to the sentiments I see expressed here. This said, I never gave too much thought to how these things applied to my life, personally. I always thought I was fairly tolerant and progressive, considering the background I have been working my whole life to escape (more on that in a moment). Two things have recently changed my mind. They have brought perspective as well as a sense of urgency, particularly to the latter.

1. I am in the position of possibly having to seek an abortion. I am twenty years old, not at all financially stable and have no desire to have children at the moment. I am more alarmed personally at the financial and family consequences of this choice, but I can deal with that. It is not what is keeping me awake.

2. I recently came across an article condemning the sale of “bralettes” to very young girls, and have been aware of the phenomenon of oversexualizing young girls for a long time. The reason? I have a sister. Two, actually. Both have children. My oldest sister has one girl, aged two, and another on the way. These children will be absolutely cared for, and I know this without a doubt. My oldest sister has always acted as a mother to me, and has been the impetus for any rational thought that I have. Were it not for her, I would be in a very different place in my life and in my mind right now, and if I have the desire to make anyone in the world proud of me, it is her.

A little background:

Growing up in my household could be considered the definition of turbulent. My father was an alcoholic for most of my childhood (he still is, he just doesn’t drink anymore). Despite this I have many fond memories of my dad, and as I have grown older I have come to understand him more. I still don’t forgive him for all of the misdirected anger and abuse that came to all of us, but I am growing to understand him better and trying to put it behind me and reconcile it with the only universal truth I have discovered: We are All messed up.  

My mother is an alcoholic and still refuses to admit her problems:
she is manipulative, abusive, and so many other things I do not yet
have the words to name. I have not spoken to her in years, and the last
time I did the only thing we talked about was…well, basically she was
unsuccessfully defending herself on the subject of some family drama I
was barely privy to. I don’t recall (ever) seeing her display a scrap
of human emotion. I know this is harsh, but it is the truth. The
closest definition of her behavior I can find is that of a sociopath,
but even that seems dulled in comparison to reality. She chased a
friend of my sister’s down the street once for taking one of “her”
sodas from our fridge. There are so many stories. But I am not here to
complain. I am making my peace with this and attempting to go on in
life as a rational, genuine young woman. This is merely to illustrate
the problem.

You see, my other sister-the middle child (for chronology and not
stereotypes, please) has turned out a lot like her. She uses people,
lies constantly and is, in my eyes, a carbon-copy of my mother. She has
three children, all girls. She had the first still in high school, and
so is relatively young. The oldest is now ten.

Reading the articles on this site and thinking on these general
problems in today’s youth led me to think about this situation. She is
ten years old. When I was around that age, my oldest sister, having
already moved out of the house was still doing everything she could to
ensure that I had a proper role model. She sent me a copy of something
similar to “Our bodies, ourselves”. She bought me clothes. She paid for
a plane ticket for me, every summer from when I was eleven until I
entered college, to stay with her for the entire summer. She taught me
so many things: she is the reason I am not a willfully uneducated,
scantily-clad Jerry Springer guest. That is where I was going, and she
and her husband taught me the best they could to be a practical,
tolerant, determined young woman.

My other sister had no such fortune. She was too old by this time to
accept any kind of role model except for my mother, and has thus far
raised her children to be like her: ignorant, racist, and likely
destined to never leave a 30-mile radius of their home.*** In the
recent past her children were taken from her by more capable,
responsible and loving family members (aunts of mine) but they were
unable to keep custody. I have some anger toward the judicial system
for this.

***I am not saying this is unacceptable; merely that if they do
this, I want it to be their choice. I want them to have the option to
grow up to be smart, capable, open-minded women. And I believe that
this falls to me. I have not been a good aunt to them in the past;
choosing to omit my sister from daily life means choosing to also
exclude these girls. However if it means that they will have a chance,
I will sit through as many rehearsed lies as my sister can dish out.
(My niece was stung by tons of bees but it was her own fault, not that
anyone should have been watching her. Her now-husband was perfectly
reasonable when he demanded that the kids not talk during dinner, and
then made them do push-ups when they did. It is a perfectly logical
punishment for a three-year-old who bites her sister to be, in turn,
bitten by her stepfather. The list goes on.)

I just don’t know what to do. This is where you come in, hopefully.
You see, it is a very tricky business getting anything done in this
vein. Their mother is very controlling, manipulative, and would not be
pleased were she to discover that I told her children that black people
are just like the rest of us, or any viewpoint that disagrees with her
own. I don’t know what to do about this, but I know I have to do
something. I am really the only family member who could feasibly take
an interest in their well-being while possibly going unnoticed (thus
keep from being counteracted) by their mother. I don’t have a lot of
money or resources, but I know I have to do something.

Any suggestions or feedback would be very much appreciated.