From Pronouns And Hamas To Corrie Ten Boom
Shaping a culture that prepares our daughters for a dark age
I was in London for Jordan Peterson’s inaugural Alliance for Responsible Citizenship conference, when I was caught up in a protest in Parliament square and found myself standing in the midst of a hundred thousand people calling for the death of Israel.
Some protestors were clearly devout Muslims, others had purple hair and trans flags, and still others wore eco-orange, ready to glue their hands to any artwork they deemed necessary. I watched a young woman draw tiny Hitler mustaches on pictures of kidnapped babies, and then overheard a conversation about an upcoming sex reassignment surgery.
Little Red Riding Hood, illustrations by Walter Crane, 1875. TheCMN/Flickr.
This fall I worked with Andy Ngo in Richmond amid violent Antifa threats, interviewed Abigail Shrier to understand the transgender craze intoxicating our daughters, and received death threats (my children included ) for participating in a free speech event at the University of Virginia. Thankfully, the campus police were on hand to maintain order.
Standing in the middle of that pro Hamas crowd after all of that, I saw a world gone mad. How, I wondered, will we develop the fortitude to take on these death cults?
Are feelings, opinions, and “personal truths” enough? Or does this modern day call for a return to orthodoxy, and the role models who have stood the test of time and history? Maybe we need to teach our children about the women who don’t sell out our stadiums, but who refused to sell out their Jewish neighbors? The women who stood for truth when their whole neighborhood turned against them?
Little Red Riding Hood, illustrations by Walter Crane, 1875. TheCMN/Flickr.
When I think about the brain rot infiltrating our universities, the hatred and racism bubbling up in protests around the country, and the abdication of family leadership, I realize that our daughters need truly strong role models. They need the toughest, bravest, strongest women we can find for them. And friends, Taylor Swift ain’t it. None of today’s young starlets are the role models our daughters need.
What our daughters need is a Corrie ten Boom revival.
As a twenty-something at the beginning of the 20th century, Corrie was an award-winning watchmaker (a profession dominated by men). Later in life she was a spinster, living with her elderly sister, father, and cats. Many, many cats.
Little Red Riding Hood, illustrations by Walter Crane, 1875. TheCMN/Flickr.
She was not the social influencer some might think we need, but as the world erupted into chaos around her, she stood her ground, hiding hundreds of Jews, and was eventually sent to a concentration camp where her beloved sister and father would die. She was released from the camp on a clerical error a week before she was scheduled for the gas chamber.
No one would have blamed Corrie for developing a hardened heart and unforgiving mentality after losing everything she held dear. In the words of the kids today, her trauma was real. But after her release, her heart was even softer, her resolve even stronger. She longed to see beauty flourish and people restored. Her ability to forgive multiplied as she met victim and oppressor alike.
Our daughters will face similar circumstances. They already are. Antisemitism, identity politics, and a general disregard for human life are on the rise. Students are shunned and shamed on college campuses for insisting that truth is objective, and violent rioting is justified as “any means necessary.”
Culture is conversation, and if we are going to pass on to our daughters a virtuous culture that equips them to take on the delusions and lies and violence of this age, then our conversations need to be stronger, our convictions deeper.
Little Red Riding Hood, illustrations by Walter Crane, 1875. TheCMN/Flickr.
We as mothers need to stop focusing on Taylor Swift, Instagram, and the latest influencer. We need to gift our daughters a culture that can’t stop talking about Corrie, and Joni Eareckson Tada, and Elisabeth Elliot. These are women who resolved to know nothing but the true, the good, and the beautiful–women whose identities were so deeply rooted in timeless truth, that choosing pronouns would feel like a cheap and unattractive alternative.
Only when we as mothers root our conversations in courage and conviction will we change the culture that we give to our girls, and only then will they have a fighting chance in this world gone mad.