Most of my British friends, when they think of Margaret Thatcher at all, remember her as an arch-conservative, a self-made politician who put business above social services and economy over the well-being of British communities. My husband tends to froth at the mouth when anyone mentions Mrs Thatcher, and I am not here to try and convince anyone that what she did was right or good. But forget the coal mines she shut, the unions she crushed and the milk she snatched; I happen to know that Margaret Thatcher pulled off an astounding feat. You may wonder if I am talking about the economy here, her firm stance with the IRA, or her handling of the Falklands War. I assure you that I am not referring to any of those piddling things. No, Margaret Thatcher did better than that. She won the hearts of fifteen uppity Japanese teenagers I once knew. And as far as I am concerned, whatever barriers she may have broken through in British politics are as nothing compared to that.
These girls attended an exclusive girls' finishing school in Tokyo, a junior college for young women who were not academically inclined, informally known as a school where one usually finished with an 'Mrs' degree. They came to our school ostensibly to study English, but really to lark about and have a good time. Still, though they essentially treated our lessons as nothing more than a chance to have fun,I found them a lively, spirited group and, in the main, enjoyed our classes. But because they were not known for their generous opinion of middle-aged women, which most of us teachers were, they weren't everybody's cup of tea. They could be hypercritical and judgmental about the less fortunate or beautiful of their gender, and when they were, they didn't do a lot for a person's self esteem. They were young women who appraised every other woman's appearance and charm with a jeweler's eye, and they weren't shy about expressing their opinions, either.
Several months after I quit my teaching job there, Margaret Thatcher came to Japan, and she stopped by the school for a visit. As it happened, she sat in on their particular class, which a friend was teaching at the time. This friend hated Margaret Thatcher's politics with a passion and found her cozy relationship with Augusto Pinochet particularly repugnant. So when she knew that Mrs Thatcher was going to be an observer in her class, she was not best pleased.
I almost pitied poor old Mrs Thatcher showing up in front of this particular class with a teacher who hated her guts and a group of catty girls who happily ate grown women for breakfast. I had to tell myself that she almost certainly deserved it.
As it turned out, though, Mrs Thatcher was a big hit and gave every appearance of having a wonderful time. She expressed genuine interest in what the girls were studying, sat cozily with them and chatted about what they were interested in, and basically charmed their socks off. After she left, they were all in awe. When my friend asked them what they thought of Mrs Thatcher, they all allowed that they'd never met anyone like her. So sweet and nice, so much fun, and -- I swear I'm not making this up! -- so beautiful.
Now, you'd have to know these girls to know how incredible this was. It wasn't just the fact that Mrs Thatcher was well dressed and properly groomed that impressed them. Though these girls spent hours on their personal preparations every day and certainly expected this of others, I knew for a fact that they thought little enough of many celebrities. I'd brought in photographs of actresses and musicians like Meryl Streep, Madonna, Joan Baez and Linda Ronstadt, and these girls had been mightily unimpressed by their talent and appearance. But Margaret Thatcher, as far as they were all concerned, was ten out of ten. "She had such pretty skin," sighed one. "She was fashionable! And she was so smart -- and so friendly!" enthused another. The concensus was that Margaret Thatcher was one hell of a role model -- a woman they would love to emulate.
Scary, isn't it?
