A New View

Question

Loralee paced her room, nervously biting her freshly painted nails when her mother, Barbara, entered, carrying a basket of neatly folded clothing.
"I was hoping you would help me with the laundry tonight, Loralee," Barbara scolded, a severe frown on her face. "Seriously, you have no idea what it was like for us growing up. In the 1890s, we had no radios, no records, no washing machines, no telephones…it was a different time."
"It really is a different time than when you were young, Mom," Loralee began. "Girls are doing lots of unconventional things in the 1920s, like going to college, cutting their hair, watching movies at the cinema, entering dance contests…"
"Loralee, I am not interested in hearing this because you know how I feel about things girls are doing these days," Barbara asserted, shaking her head disapprovingly. "Women should raise their girls to grow up and take care of their husbands and families. This 'New Woman' nonsense is ruining the traditions our country is based on."
As soon as Barbara left the room, Loralee removed her bathrobe to reveal a sleek dress that fell just above her knees, decorated with sequins and fringe. Loralee managed to successfully climb down the tree outside her bedroom window and make her way to the ground. She started to creep across the lawn when, in a frightening instant, the porch light flipped on.
"Loralee!" Her father's voice fractured the silence of the night, and Loralee stopped dead in her tracks. She turned around slowly to find her father, Jack, standing on the front porch. Horribly terrified, Loralee slunk toward Jack.
"Oh, Loralee, what in heaven's name are you doing climbing down the tree in a flapper's dress?" Jack asked.
"Dad, I just wanted to go to the pavilion for an innocent dance contest," Loralee admitted. "I love to dance, and Mom would never have given me permission because she is completely against dancing."
"I understand that you love to dance, Loralee, but these sneaky, disobedient antics are unacceptable," Jack asserted. "This is no way to treat your mother."
Shame filled Loralee's belly as she realized that her father was right. Her mother worked hard all day to keep their house and organize their lives.
"Your mother was raised to be a traditional woman," Jack said. "Times are changing, and you want to change with them. We both understand this, but under no circumstances do we want our sixteen–year–old daughter traipsing around the city at night. If you want us to respect your views, you need to respect our responsibility to keep you safe."
Jack's rational argument made Loralee feel worse because she had never considered her parents' viewpoints.
"I am really sorry, Dad, because I do respect you," Loralee began. "I just want a different life than the one Mom has envisioned for me."
"Well, I think this conversation is an endeavor that we will have to tackle when we are all well rested," Jack said. "For tonight, you are grounded until further notice."
Loralee knew she would have to find new strategies for articulating her views to her parents. Seeing things from their perspective humbled Loralee. Their rules were perhaps not as ridiculous as she had previously believed but maybe were simply protective. She had a realization that her parents were really just people too. Knowing this made her more confident that they could somehow find a middle ground regarding what a young woman of 1926 should be.

Answer 1

As Loralee trudged back upstairs, her mind was a swirl of conflicting emotions. She felt a mix of defiance and understanding—an unusual cocktail for a sixteen-year-old seeking independence. The stylish flapper dress she wore, a symbol of rebellion and the modern age, felt heavier now, weighed down by her father’s words.

Once back in her room, she leaned against the window, watching the moonlight dance across the lawn. It was both beautiful and tranquil, yet she felt a storm brewing within her. The vibrant energy of the roaring twenties was calling out to her, urging her to partake in a world filled with jazz music, freedom, and self-expression. But it was clear that obtaining that freedom wasn't going to be straightforward, especially under her mother’s watchful eye and her father's protective nature.

Loralee needed a plan. If she was going to convince her parents to see things her way, she knew she couldn’t resort to sneaking around; that had only put her deeper in trouble. Instead, she decided that communication would be her bridge to understanding. Maybe if she could articulate her passion for dance in a way that aligned with her father's protective instincts, and find a way to ease her mother’s concerns about her future, she could create a compromise.

The next day, Loralee sat down with a pen and a piece of paper, drafting a letter to her parents. She expressed how much she admired her mother’s strength and sacrifices and acknowledged the values and traditions she'd grown up with. It was important for her to reassure them, to make them feel valued rather than overshadowed by her desire for independence.

In her letter, she wrote about how dancing wasn’t just a frivolous pastime; it was a way for her to express herself and connect with others, a celebration of life during an era of change. She noted that many young women were finding their way, balancing tradition with modernity, and that she wanted to be part of this new wave without completely abandoning her roots.

That evening, Loralee approached her parents at the dinner table, letter in hand, heart racing with anticipation. She swallowed her nerves, looking at her mother’s disapproving expression and her father’s concerned gaze. “Can I read something I wrote?” she asked timidly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Barbara's eyebrow arched slightly, but Jack nodded encouragingly, giving Loralee the chance she needed. As she read, she noticed her mother’s expression soften ever so slightly, her initial skepticism wavering.

When she finished, she looked up at both of them. "I know the world is changing and that you are scared for me. I just want you to know that I see the value in what you taught me. But I also want to explore who I can be in this world. Dance isn’t just an indulgence for me; it’s a part of who I am. I want to honor our family, yet still chase my dreams.”

Barbara sighed, her strong facade beginning to crack. “I just want what’s best for you, Loralee,” she said quietly. “I worry about what others will think, and I fear for your safety in these changing times.”

Jack interjected, “And I worry too, but I also want you to have a chance to grow and find your way. We need to trust you, Loralee. We just need to know that you can be responsible."

An idea began to form in Loralee’s mind—maybe they could reach an agreement. “What if... what if I promised to keep you both updated about where I’ll be and who I’ll be with? Would you consider letting me participate in dance contests and social gatherings if I followed those rules?”

There was a pause as her parents exchanged glances, weighing her words carefully. Finally, Jack sighed and nodded. “We can try that, but you need to understand it’s not just about the rules. It’s about building trust.”

Barbara smiled faintly, a crack of warmth shifting through her stern demeanor. “Let’s start with this. I will drive you to your next event and meet your friends. It may help me feel reassured.”

Loralee felt a rush of excitement. “Thank you, both of you! I promise I won’t let you down.”

That night, as she settled into bed, Loralee felt lighter, her worries dissipating like mist in the morning sun. She realized change was possible, not just within herself but as a family; it took patience, understanding, and open hearts. And in the great dance of life, perhaps they could all learn to find a rhythm together.