Lebanese woman in public life constitutes a danger to her domestic existence — that is, to the family, to motherhood, and to society in general. The home is the natural place within whose walls woman ought to devote herself to work; the restless life between home and job wears out the nerves and destroys woman's femininity.
Over and above bearing the burden of motherhood, tending its helpless, exhausting infancy, and taking charge of its long, wearying childhood — the nights of vigil beside the little one's cradle take from her rest, her health, and her vitality, that he may grow and go forward in the procession of life.
The married woman's life is a continual expenditure, that she may give life to other creatures at the cost of what is taken from her own.
But I wish to make one important observation: all our girls must be prepared for honorable gainful work, so that they do not become burdens upon society should the breadwinner be lost or fall ill, or should they not marry, or when a woman has no household duties to fill her day.
(1) In Lebanon there are two classes of women: a class whose influence is not to be slighted, which still performs its reform mission to the fullest. I say this remembering dozens of silent workers in the field of social service, in the fight against vagrancy and prostitution, and in the war on illiteracy, ignorance, and fanaticism.
Were it not for this vital element among the women of Lebanon, who faced difficulties and bore obstacles in order to bring a happier life to hundreds of women, the social level in Lebanon would be other than it is now.
As for the second class, which represents the great mass of cultured women in Lebanon, it cares nothing for conditions and feels no sense of the social responsibility laid upon its shoulders. Between the two classes lies a vast distance and a deep chasm. What is regrettable is that the good class represents a tiny minority; but I am among the optimists, among those who believe that the striving minority must one day sweep away the passive, overbearing majority.
(2) Apart from the very little that is being written today, we cannot consider that the Lebanese woman contributes effectively in the literary field. This goes back to the superficiality of the culture in which most of our institutes train her, and also to her general weakness in the Arabic language. The Lebanese
woman cannot contribute in the literary field unless she nourishes her thoughts with worthwhile reading and follows the march of thought and letters, here and in the West, in a regular and serious fashion; and unless she tries to study her language with devotion, desire, and faith, and tries to express her thoughts in it. If she does not do this, Lebanese women's literature will remain nonexistent.
(3) The most prominent problem of upbringing in the Lebanese home is the sentimental problem which makes fathers and mothers believe that the young, however much they grow, remain in need of their care. The child in the Lebanese home is not, on the whole, brought up to rely on himself, free in the use of his powers and capacities; and no inclination toward positive independence and action appears in our youth unless nature has granted them an ample share of intelligence with which to fight reactionary restriction. I regard this state of affairs as a danger, for it hinders the children's growth, holds them back from using their gifts to the utmost, and frustrates their hopes and aspirations.
Would that fathers and mothers in Lebanon might train themselves to feel that when the child reaches the age of maturity he must decide many of his problems for himself, and that he can succeed, with God's blessing, if they permit him to use his mind and make it the judge in distinguishing matters and knowing their worth.
There is a second problem no less dangerous than the first: the meddling of relatives with the children. The interference of his mother and father is enough for the growing child; often the elder brother is a stumbling block in the progress of a brother who surpasses him in intelligence and ability — not from ill will, but from ignorance of the measures of things. And often the interference of grandfather or grandmother, paternal uncle or aunt, maternal uncle or aunt, has evil consequences in the upbringing of the rising generation. Parents alone must be charged with solving their children's problems, and they must look at them in a natural, balanced way, not arraigning their children for surface slips that have no effect on their general progress.
There is a third danger: the absence of the true sporting spirit from our upbringing in Lebanon. I mean by this that we, old and young, in a general and comprehensive way, do not meet defeat with magnanimity and fortitude; rather, in the hour of confusion and collapse we break out with negative forces steeped in the spirit of revenge, rancor, and the maligning of others. We cannot see the other's point of view; we cannot be forbearing with one another; whoever does not hold our opinion as we do — his opinion is worthless. Often our partial differences and our sterile disputes swell large, because they do not spring from the good intentions that would