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Description

             Helen was undoubtedly the wittiest of a Mormon family of seven children. From a young age, she had an annoyingly de-constructionist tendencies. Her parents and the broader LDS community believed that the silly notions that popped into her pretty little head (i.e usefulness of female intellectual labour) were fantasies of a childish imagination that Helen would soon out-grow.

            She didn't.

            By high school, Helen was very much a walking encyclopedia who provoked giggles from the girls and indifference from the boys. She had a more solemn, reclusive demeanour than the other girls. While they chatted largely about their dreams of domesticity with their favourite beaus, Helen's nose always seems to be wedged in an informative text crouched at the back of the library. This social distance often made Helen come across to others as abrasive or even antagonistic, particularly when Helen confronted the girls on the subject of their willing propagation of docility and daintiness, the, "I don't know sir. I'm just a girl! *giggles*" that followed too many questions from the teachers among other things.

            One day, Helen was leaving her locker area after gym class and was confronted by a gag of the local cheerleaders.

            "It's the walking encyclopedia!" one chanted.

            Before Helen could react, she was suddenly swarmed by frilly girls who proceeded to remove her glasses and cover her face in makeup. The girls held Helen's arms as the head cheerleader planted a conical hat on her pretty, little head. She then retrieved a perfume container and exclaimed, "Never a Bluestocking!"

            With a whiff of the rose-scented odour, the face in front of the cheerleaders softened. The eyes went from steely and focused to spacey and vapid. A pearly grin formed on her lips and a giggle escaped.

            To the delight of the cheerleaders (and much of the school, community, and family), Helen Andelin had gone from a brainy, reclusive introvert to a playful, delightfully ditzy extrovert.

            Not that she lost interest in books completely of course. As a proud mother of eight she would write "Fascinating Womanhood" as a manifesto regarding the delights of domestic femininity.

Description

             Helen was undoubtedly the wittiest of a Mormon family of seven children. From a young age, she had an annoyingly de-constructionist tendencies. Her parents and the broader LDS community believed that the silly notions that popped into her pretty little head (i.e usefulness of female intellectual labour) were fantasies of a childish imagination that Helen would soon out-grow.

            She didn't.

            By high school, Helen was very much a walking encyclopedia who provoked giggles from the girls and indifference from the boys. She had a more solemn, reclusive demeanour than the other girls. While they chatted largely about their dreams of domesticity with their favourite beaus, Helen's nose always seems to be wedged in an informative text crouched at the back of the library. This social distance often made Helen come across to others as abrasive or even antagonistic, particularly when Helen confronted the girls on the subject of their willing propagation of docility and daintiness, the, "I don't know sir. I'm just a girl! *giggles*" that followed too many questions from the teachers among other things.

            One day, Helen was leaving her locker area after gym class and was confronted by a gag of the local cheerleaders.

            "It's the walking encyclopedia!" one chanted.

            Before Helen could react, she was suddenly swarmed by frilly girls who proceeded to remove her glasses and cover her face in makeup. The girls held Helen's arms as the head cheerleader planted a conical hat on her pretty, little head. She then retrieved a perfume container and exclaimed, "Never a Bluestocking!"

            With a whiff of the rose-scented odour, the face in front of the cheerleaders softened. The eyes went from steely and focused to spacey and vapid. A pearly grin formed on her lips and a giggle escaped.

            To the delight of the cheerleaders (and much of the school, community, and family), Helen Andelin had gone from a brainy, reclusive introvert to a playful, delightfully ditzy extrovert.

            Not that she lost interest in books completely of course. As a proud mother of eight she would write "Fascinating Womanhood" as a manifesto regarding the delights of domestic femininity.