My Father, The Feminist

I was driving in the rain and slush this morning when it occurred to me I need a new wiper for my rear window. I remembered my mother mentioning an auto parts store that had installed her windshield wipers for free. I considered going there, but then decided it would be cheaper just to run to the local department store and put it on myself. Then, and welcome to my mind, I started considering the idea of a woman working on a car and how even in 2013 that is an odd concept. Even something as simple as replacing a windshield wiper–it’s expected we find a male friend or hire a man to do such a task.

We are often still treated differently (Even swindled at times!) at a mechanic’s shop. I recall my father teaching me how to change my oil when I was eighteen. Today of course, it’s cheaper to just head to the shop to get my oil changed. But if I ever needed to, I know how to do the job. I love that my father taught me this. It’s one of the more complicated things a layperson can do themselves on their car. Changing a tire, replacing fluids or spark plugs, and maybe a few other fixes are on that list, and my father taught me how to do them all. He was always stressing the importance of my understanding the inner-workings of my car, as well as the plumbing and appliances in my home.