Duchess Jane

There are two women that I will always reference when I talk about my own personal growth as a feminist.

Danica Patrick and Sarah Palin.

Hear me out.

I grew up in a household that had two major sports. Auto racing is my father's sport and politics is my mother's arena. My parents raised a daughter who would constantly look to the highest levels of these sports for female inspiration, but the search has not always been rewarded with a clear role model.

When Danica Patrick began making waves as an IndyCar driver, I sincerely hoped for the best, I cheered for a woman (a woman from my hometown, might I add, a woman with whom I attended high school) who had the potential to win the Indy 500. I mourned that Sarah Fisher had never been given a true shot, because I felt that she was more talented than Danica Patrick, but the fact remained. Danica was in the position. Four seasons later, what we are left with is a female race car driver who is known more for her temper tantrums and her willingness to take her clothes off for FHM, Sports Illustrated, and Maxim than for her performance on the track. When backed into a corner where it is clear that she is failing, she relies on her appearance and her temper. She goes on attack. Four seasons in the highest American division of her sport, and we have one victory lane appearance and countless girl slaps, hissy fits, stomps down pit lane, and total meltdowns that blame everyone else on the track for her own lack of accomplishment.

Turn up the charm or go on attack. Does this sound familiar?

I will not lie and pretend that I've ever supported Palin. I disagree fundamentally with every single viewpoint that she holds. The only thing we have in common is an unfortunate butchering of select vowels, though I stand before you today and promise that I have never, and will never, use the phrase "You betcha" in seriousness.

But the one thing that Palin could have earned from me was respect, as a woman, respect and the acknowledgment that she was a woman in man's race. She failed to win my respect. She failed me, as a woman, in the same way that Danica Patrick has failed me. Because when I want to look towards a woman who has talent, who has the skill and the experience to get a job done, a job that a man has always done before, what I see is a woman who turns on the folksy charm to distract from her lack of an answer, her inability to discuss policy, her total lack of qualifications for the job.

Sarah Palin is not the first female nominee for the office of Vice President, but she is the first in my memorable lifetime. I was three years old when Geraldine Ferraro was on the ticket in 1984. Sarah Palin is the first female VP candidate that I will remember. And she's an embarrassment. I do not want a Vice President who flirts her way into the hearts of the American people. I want a woman who can get through a debate without winking, changing the tone of her voice to a cutesy caricature of herself, and vamping like a pageant queen. And when backed into a corner, when she can no longer justify her own lack of skill, what does she do? She goes on the attack, as irrelevant as it may be to the topic at hand.

Maybe I don't have an answer, but look at what my opponent said. Maybe I can't deliver a victory, but it's my opponent's fault for getting in my way.

There is a difference between self-assured confidence and confrontational bravado.

Sarah Palin stood on that stage tonight and did an amazing impression of Danica Patrick. Without the ability to actually deliver a trophy in her chosen field through talent, skill, and brainpower, she relies on her looks and her ability to insult her opponent to distract from her own ineptitude.

There are many women in both fields that I can look to for inspiration. Female race car drivers are not the anomaly they once were, and there are females on both sides of the aisle and in governor's offices across the country. But there are no two women who have been as prominent as Danica Patrick and Sarah Palin.

But this is what it's come to, really? That a woman's chances at an Indy500 win are hinged on her cooperation in showing skin in magazines? That a market exists for t-shirts showcasing pictures of our Republican VP candidate, an oil derrick, and the words "I'd drill that"?

You can argue that they are both victims of a patriarchal society, but they are both so complicit in fostering this image of themselves, that their sexuality or their cutesy girl charm is just as (if not more) important than anything more substantial about them. Plenty of attractive female race car drivers are out there, fully clothed and ready to compete. They aren't getting the rides. And plenty of attractive, intelligent Republican women have been elected to office without the winking and the flirting. They didn't get the VP nod.

I guess this is my wish: I no longer want a woman on the podium of the Indy500 and a woman in the White House. I want a woman of considerable talent drinking the milk. I want a woman of substance and vast knowledge answering that call at 3 am. I want somebody that I can say, unequivocally, earned it by being something other than attractive and confrontational.

When that happens, by all means, I'll leave the grandstands happy that I saw a good race.

Duke:  Ariel is pretty hot.

Jane:  Umm, yeah, I guess.  For a cartoon.

Duke:  I wonder what size clams those are?  C-cup clams?  D-clams?

Jane:  Oh, dude, stop.  Disney!  Children's cartoon!

Duke:  I want to give her crabs.