Hootie – Photo: L.Weikel

International Women’s Day?

Somehow, it just hits home time after time how pathetic it is that the status of women is so bad in so many places around this great big world of ours that we actually have to have a ‘day’ – set aside in the middle of our ‘month’ (Women’s History Month) – to call attention to and celebrate women and their myriad contributions to the world.

It’s sort of a double-edged sword to me. On the one hand, hey, at least we’re all in a place where we’re at least acknowledging the contributions of women, right?

But damn. It is simply astounding to me that our achievements, our innovations, our talents and abilities, continue to be suppressed. Or minimized. Or trivialized.

Or even worse: ignored.

Or worst: Outright lied about.

I Could Do or Be Whatever I Wanted

I don’t know if my experiences were typical of other women in my generation, but I feel like I was sold a bunch of bullshit. When I was growing up, going to high school, then college – and then law school – I was told I could become anything I wanted; I was free to pursue any career that called to me.

I had all the credentials. Excellent grades; graduated within the top couple people in my class. (I fudge a little here because I spent my senior year in Sweden, so my grades from Åkrahällskolan didn’t exactly translate point-for-point.) Better than decent SAT scores, especially considering I only took them once, in my junior year. And I had extracurricular stuff out the whazzoo. I won’t bore you with a recitation. But I can tell you this: I didn’t do those things to plump up my resumé. I did them because I loved being involved, being a part of things.

I was filled with an exuberance for learning and doing. And I completely believed that the women who were blazing a trail just ahead of me were entirely within their rights to burn their bras and demand passage of the ERA. (Even though they were only 10-15 years older than I, they almost seemed a generation ahead of me. I couldn’t imagine not having the rights they were so stridently known for demanding.)

Our Equality Was Obvious – Wasn’t It?

What was the big deal? Why did people care what a woman did with her own body? Whose business was it but her own? And why in the world couldn’t I do anything a guy could do? It truly did not occur to me that there was any possible truth to the trope I would hear that boys were smarter than girls. Indeed, it seemed so logical that I was, of course, equal to any boy that I eschewed calling myself a ‘feminist.’ Me? Nope. Not a feminist. I was just a person. An equal person.

I look back now and there it was: that fast, I’d absorbed our culture’s disdain for uppity women. I didn’t want to be known as ‘one of them.’ I would show the world I was equal, simply by being just as good as any man.

I Was Surrounded By Absurdity

And quite honestly? All of that talk was as patently absurd to me as when I sat in the pew of my Catholic church and heard that everyone who wasn’t baptized wouldn’t go to heaven. I distinctly remember sitting there, probably age 10 at the most, thinking, “He (the priest) has to be kidding. They (the congregation) cannot possible believe this is true. We are not the only people on the planet and there are a lot of people who aren’t Catholic. Surely they’re not all going to hell (or wherever).”

I refused to believe that an entire religion could possibly believe something so on-its-face ridiculous. So I just shrugged it off. I ignored it. That and the young priest just out of seminary who took a fancy to me. The one the pastor asked me to ‘help’ with a youth group that was starting. Just ignored it. Thought it must’ve been my fault, somehow. You know: leading him on.

Just last summer I discovered both of them – the pastor and the then-newly minted priest – had ended up on “the list.” The list of predators.

Still Not a Feminist

Fast forward to two weeks before the start of my second year of law school. I gave birth to my (our) first son.

The fact that I had a newborn and was not taking a leave of absence made me a stark anomaly at school – but one that was most expediently dealt with by simply ignoring me. (Other than the oft-repeated ‘joke’ that I was proof there was sex in law school. Hardy har har.)

No one asked me if I needed anything. I am quite sure the thought of providing me with a place to breastfeed (which yeah, I tried to do – woefully inadequately) never occurred to anyone. It certainly didn’t occur to me. Nor did any other possible accommodation that might have made my life even the tiniest bit easier.

And to be honest? I probably wouldn’t have accepted it anyway. Because I was bound and determined to just suck it up and do what I needed to do. After all, I always believed I could do anything I set my mind to doing, so I would do this, too. I would prove I could do anything a man could do – and then some. (But I still wasn’t a feminist.)

I even snagged an internship with the U.S. Attorney’s office the summer my son turned one. Yes. I was doing it. Living the dream. Being equal.

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I’m going to end this chapter of my “International Women’s Day” story here.

I may or may not continue it tomorrow. Suffice it to say, law school was idyllic compared to the reality of practicing law in Upper (read ‘rural’) Bucks County in the early ‘80s. I was in for a shock.

And the saddest part, to me, is what I see going on all around us right now – almost 40 years later. The fact that we have to have a day, or a month, dedicated to appreciation and celebration of women – when we are a driving force and represent over half of the world’s population – is maddening.

Which, again, makes me realize what a crock we women have been sold.

And I guarantee you, no one wins when this absurdity persists.

P.S.: I’m a feminist.

(T- 994)