But unfortunately, being adorable can get you only so far. Today’s War Room comments on the right’s rising doubts about Palin, as does today’s Washington Post, which links to a column by conservative writer Kathleen Parker that I think is worthy of Broadsheet attention.

In it, Parker — who confesses to at first having been “delighted” with John McCain’s choice — now says that “it’s increasingly clear that Palin is a problem.”

“If Palin were a man, we’d all be guffawing, just as we do every time Joe Biden tickles the back of his throat with his toes,” writes Parker. “But because she’s a woman — and the first ever on a Republican presidential ticket — we are reluctant to say what is painfully true.”

Parker then asks Palin to drop out of the race.

What I find interesting about Parker’s column — besides the fact that Palin’s recent performances have been so bad that steadfast conservative voices are asking her to drop out — is that it highlights a dilemma that many Americans have been facing this election season, historic for its inclusion of an African-American man and not just one but two women.

When someone of your gender or race (or however else you choose to identify yourself) has a historic chance to be in a position of power, but for whatever reason, you don’t support him or her, you find yourself with a lot of explaining to do. Self-proclaimed feminists had to rationalize why they supported Barack Obama during the primaries; African-Americans had to justify why Hillary Clinton was their woman. And now Parker — like other conservatives — is being forced to admit that while Palin embodies the type of woman she finds appealing (“the antithesis and nemesis of the hirsute, Birkenstock-wearing sisterhood — a refreshing feminist of a different order who personified the modern successful working mother,” as Parker puts it), she may still be unqualified to lead. It can be tough to admit: As Parker writes, “No one hates saying that more than I do.”

I guess you could take this two ways: It’s depressing that McCain made such a pandering choice (to the religious right, to women) to begin with and unfortunate that Palin’s weaknesses have become so painfully clear. (Am I the only person who feels bad for the woman?) But at the same time, perhaps this entire election will help all Americans — Democrats and Republicans alike — move past basing decisions on identity politics and learn to evaluate people on their leadership abilities rather than their gender or the color of their skin. If Kathleen Parker is asking Palin to step out of the race, perhaps she — and all of us — will be able to look at future candidates with more objective eyes.

Richards was apparently then incensed when another woman on the panel contradicted her, saying that she believed that being pro-life didn’t make you ineligible to be a feminist. (Richards has since softened her stance and has collaborated with Baumgardner on this very question.) But as Baumgardner explains, it turned out that these women weren’t necessarily asking if it was possible to be a feminist and bomb abortion clinics, or, in a less dramatic example, work to prevent other women from getting them. They wanted to know if you could call yourself a feminist while still believing abortion is the “taking of a life,” and without making abortion — or, rather, the fight to keep abortion legal and accessible — one of your priorities. Baumgardner’s response? Yes you can.

She goes through a list of principles she believes are necessary to follow if you want to straddle the line between the feminist and pro-life camps. Among them: Work to make sure that women who want to raise their kids have the support to do so, support birth control and sex education, work toward early abortion (in other words, if you’re going to have an abortion, it’s better to do so early), support emergency contraception and medical abortions, actively condemn violence on abortion providers and clinics, and “truly understand adoption and make sure the birth mother has a voice.”

I think the question is interesting because in some ways it’s emblematic of a big problem not just in the battle over abortion but in American politics in general: a complete refusal to see any part of the opposition’s argument. I like to think that there are often more shades of gray, more nuance, than just the black and white lines down which we are currently divided — and this is a great example. Why wouldn’t it be possible to think of a fetus as a living creature, disapprove of abortion, and still care about women’s rights? Granted, nuance and shades of gray become problems when you have to actually decide whose “rights” (the fetus’s or the mother’s) are more important.

Nonetheless, I think that the excerpt from Baumgardner’s book addresses a question that many self-identified feminists have silently been asking — and it’s interesting to consider her conclusion. “So, can you be a feminist and pro-life?” she writes. “The answer is a resounding ‘yes.’ In fact, finding more and better ways to do just that would be, in a word, revolutionary.”

Thoughts?

Before you get up in McCain’s face about his low female participation, though, keep in mind women’s low participation rate to begin with — on average, donations from women account for only about 27 percent of political contributions (though again, since donors’ names don’t have to be released unless the donation is above $200, the share may be higher). It’s tempting to jump to the conclusion that this year’s bounce has to do with Clinton’s run for the presidency and an overall greater focus on women (not to mention, of course, Palin), but Politico suggests there may be other factors at play. It reports that Celinda Lake, a Democratic polling expert, suggested five possible motivating factors:

Women want to see how hard elected officials champion issues they care about. They also want to be inspired to give, rather than just asked to do so. Female donors are also more inclined to conduct research before giving, often visiting candidate sites and other Internet sources before committing to writing a check. Finally, these donors want to see how their money is spent and interact with a broader community of supporters.

If these motivators are true, then it would seem that the Internet, even more than the candidates themselves, may be influencing women’s donating habits. But regardless of the cause, there’s a bigger issue at stake — as Ilana Goldman, president of the foundation that conducted the poll, suggested, women “cannot have the political power we’d like to see women have if they aren’t giving at comparable levels as men.”

Mam has also written an autobiography, “The Road of Lost Innocence: The True Story of a Cambodian Heroine,” that includes a passage, quoted by the Post, that is inspirational for anyone, like me, who questions what a difference one person can really make:

“I don’t feel like I can change the world…. I don’t even try. I only want to change this small life that I see standing in front of me, which is suffering. I want to change this small real thing that is the destiny of one little girl. And then another, and another, because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself or sleep at night.”

But what started as a snide statement has devolved (evolved?) into a beloved local tradition — one whose winners aren’t your typical Miss Americas (and, presumably, the Slug Queen contest does not involve a bathing suit competition). Check out this description of past Slug Queens from the WSJ:

“Past winners have included an accordion player, an attorney, a librarian, a teacher and a mailman. Yes, four Slug Queens have been men, including the father of seven and a full-time drag queen. One has cerebral palsy and won the pageant in his wheelchair. One former queen, a woman, makes biodegradable caskets for a living.”

Now, that’s a beauty contest I can get behind.