Elesean Fields

Oh, Hillary, as a woman and a feminist, I want to support you.  I may not be nearly as liberal, and I may take issue with the fact that you remind me too much of my abrasive, high school arch-nemesis to feel warmly toward you, but I want to support you in your role as the leading diplomat of our nation.

I know you are in the Congo right now, trying to direct international attention to the plight of women in Africa.  You are there to shed light on the rampant sexual and gender-based violence being perpetrated, and you are demanding arrests, prosecutions, and punishments.  You are doing a good thing.  You are doing a great thing.

But today, if you google "Clinton, Congo" (very different results if you google "Clinton, Conga") a large number of results lead to the mortifying video of you laying the smackdown on a Congalese student who dared ask you (and perhaps to accidentally ask you) what Mr. Clinton thinks about a public policy issue.  I became aware of the video when local deejays opened up the news segment of their show with the commentary that this was why a woman should never be President, as you were clearly dealing with PMS. 

After my initial response of, "And that is why men shouldn't be allowed to talk," I thought, "And how stupid.  Hillary's probably hit menopause by now.  She's not PMSing, you dinks.  She's just...in a very bad mood."

I would be in a very bad mood if I were married to Bill Clinton.  I would also be in a very bad mood if I were constantly upstaged by my sleazy, adulterous husband's easy, winning charm, and bon homme, while everyone went on and on about me being a low-heeled wearing shrew.  Knowing that while I was sweating my pantsuit off in the Congo to aid women, my lecherous spouse was whooping it up in Las Vegas (perhaps doing the conga?) with women aiding him would not help to improve my temper.  And maybe, just maybe, if someone asked me what the greasy, fat bastard thought of public policies my right eye would twitch.  See, my eye twitches when I am really annoyed.

But never, never, never in a million years would I, as a professional, as a diplomat, as a WOMAN snipe, "My husband isn't the Secretary of State!  I am!"  Because...ouch!  That's just bad manners, ma'am.

Bad manners overshadow everything, and diplomats are supposed to be the epitome, the pinnacle, the very living example of good manners.  Diplomacy is defined as the skill of handling affairs without raising hostility. 

Hillary, it wasn't even the student's native language.  It wasn't meant as an insult.  It was innocent.  It was sincere.  And all you needed to say was something along the lines of, "I can't speak for Mr. Clinton, but as Secretary of State, I am glad to define the United States' position as..."  You could even have laughed a little, made it a joke.  But this?  You may as well have rolled up your speech and thwacked that poor kid on the nose with it.  "Bad Congalese student!  Bad!"

Let's face it, I am never going to like you, but I would like to respect you.  Maybe a seminar in comportment is fitting?  Whatever, I do hope this doesn't overshadow the purpose of your mission.  Women are being abused, tortured, and murdered, and that ain't right.  That's the message.  That's the mantra.  That's the heart of the matter.