I'll admit it, I am a daddy's girl. I believe little girls have a special connection with their dads--one that can only be shared between them. With that being said, every daddy/daughter relationship is different. I have friends who do not know their dads. I have friends who are scared to show their dads who they really are. I have friends whose dads don't care to be involved in their daughters lives -- they may be there, but they aren't actively involved. I have friends whose dads are masochists.
My dad is one heck of a feminist, and I am so lucky to have grown up with him. He has helped shape me into the strong female that I am today. I am most definitely biased, but I feel that this is the way every dad should raise their daughter.
At the time, I didn't notice the little things he did to empower me and make me feel independent and strong, but these little things are now what mean the most to me.
When I was nine, my dad put me in a co-ed basketball league. Oddly enough, no other girls played. The first day of practice, my dad spent all morning pumping me up and playing with me in the driveway. When I walked onto the court, I was waiting under the basket to pick up a rebound (from the guy who went on to be the high school basketball championship point guard) and the ball hit me straight in the face. I then proceeded to walk off the court crying. Like that my basketball career was over. I am not athletic, but my dad let me believe I could do whatever I set my mind to.
The day before my first day of first grade, my dad took me school shopping for new shoes. We went to Famous Footwear. He let me go pick whatever shoes I wanted. I desperately wanted this pair of red Converse All Star high tops from the boys section. Without question or hesitation he spent the next hour helping me figure out what boys size I needed.
Whenever I rode in the car with my dad he would always put on music that had a female in the band. He would always tell me, "You're going to love this band. There's a girl in it who's real cool." He had me belting out Gwen Stefani's "No Doubt" like a master.
He also made sure to point out any female who was driving a big truck or muscle car to make sure I knew I can drive whatever car I wanted to.
For Christmas one year, Santa bought me an Easy Bake Oven. On Christmas Day I (of course) wanted to use it. There's just something about baking a cake with a lightbulb that got to me. My mom would have gladly helped me, but instead my dad did. He wanted me to know that no man is too good to help bake a lightbulb cake -- or any edible item.
I could go on and on about little memories that prove my dad is a great feminist. However, the fact of the matter is that I am what he has to show for it. But I will tell you that I am extremely sure of myself, and that I am strong and independent. I don't ever question my abilities and I ignore predetermined gender roles.
All dads should be their daughters' best feminist role model.