A few years ago, I recall my stepson Brian, a third grader, blurting out without any forethought, “All bosses are men”. Without thinking, I quickly replied, “that may be true but its’ the women who are really in charge”. He said it so simply, so matter-of-fact with no malice intended. I was shocked. I thought “how could he especially given that his mother was a cardiac critical care nurse heavily involved in her union fighting for the rights and respect of Registered Nurses and me a union organizer fighting for women’s rights. I was at a loss for words. Where did we go wrong, I thought. I thought about throwing up my hands and asking God, why have you forsaken me. But I figured SHE, our all powerful God, had bigger problems to solve.
Today we gather to celebrate and honor women who have excelled in community service, professional development and/or in the art of balancing work and family. I can understand clearly why each of you has been chosen by our nominating committee for recognition. You are all amazing women. We are also here to celebrate the 30th anniversary of the creation of women’s history month.
Ahh, It seems like just yesterday we were burning our bras. I'm not even sure if I wore one back then. Not that I was that radical, but for me , it would have been a training bra.
Women’s history month didn’t just pop into existence it was fought for in all the scrimmages and battles which occurred for hundreds of years. Little by little, our ancestors fought for the rights of women. Over time, those hard fought rights and at times bloody battles, became second nature to us and forgotten about—taken for granted.
Take for example the Equal Pay Act. It was enacted in the year in which I was born, 1963, President Kennedy was in office. The year before he had established a commission on the Status of Women whose work brought about his signing into law the Equal Pay Act on June 10, 1963. The chairwoman of the commission was Eleanor Roosevelt.
Being a young girl during the ensuing Women’s Revolution, I remember growing up at a time when girls were encouraged to believe they could be anything they wanted to be. I remember being very conscious of the battle for equality. In fact I believed in the equality no doubt because of the women who were fighting for it and publicizing the issues.
My battles for equality took place not on the streets of Washington, D.C., but on the streets of Bay Shore. When the boys played street hockey and wouldn’t let me play, I knocked on their doors and told their mothers. Inevitably they would be forced to allow me to play. Unfortunately for me, even my own team would knock me into the parked cars and I got pretty scraped up but I was proud that I fought for my rights and won. I don’t recall knowing about Title IX (the banning of sex discrimination in any educational program or activity) but I was fighting for it just the same.
When there were chores to do around the house, I couldn’t understand why I had to do the indoor cleaning while the boys did the outside the house chores so I cleaned really fast so I could do the outside work too. I know, I was pretty strange kid looking for more work to do rather than less, but I was proud to do the work of boys and prove that it could be done by a girl. I certainly didn’t know about the 1968 EEOC rule making sex-segregated help wanted ads illegal, but I was fighting for the same.
When I went for my first job interview, I was told by a manager of a toy store that there were no more cashier jobs left. I don’t know why, but the way he said it made me ask if there were other kinds of jobs open. He said stock work and immediately said I wouldn’t be right for the job. I insisted that I could do it since I had done my brothers chores growing up. He gave me a chance and I stayed with it for 1 year. All the while the boy stock clerks would hurl the heavy boxes at me while unloading shipments. I had black eyes and bruises all over, but I never cried or complained about it. I was stubborn and wanted to show that a girl could do the work. Had I realized that in 1964 Title VII barred discrimination on the basis of race and sex, I would have no doubt filed a complaint with EEOC. But I wasn’t aware of that at the time, I just knew that I was being discriminated against and wanted to do my part in proving them wrong and wouldn’t let them force me out.
Perhaps if I was born in a different generation, I would have followed the protocols of whose jobs belong to what gender, but having my formative years during the era of bra burning, marches in Washington, D.C., and Billy Jean King, it all changed the course of my life and how I viewed my place in it.
My mother was of a different generation, she was born in 1918. She was raised to get married and have a family. A woman’s place was in the home. A good woman didn’t behave badly. She didn’t question her place. When I was nearing college age, she thought I was crazy to want to go to college. She said over and over again, just get married. She couldn’t understand why I wanted to be a union organizer; couldn’t I be secretary like the nice girl across the street? It took years for her to be proud of my choices. But I understood; she had grown up during a different time.
Many young women of today, having had their formative years after the women’s revolution have taken for granted what has been accomplished. They naively think that workplace discrimination does not exist. They believe that the glass ceiling isn’t there. They believe that when they speak in business meetings their voice will carry equal weight with that which is spoken by male colleagues. They believe they will be judged by their work and not their gender. They believe that the struggle for equality is only needed in third world countries and not their own. They believe that their wages will be no different than their male counterparts; that if they chose a female dominated career it will pay as well as those which are mixed or dominated by men.
When I think back 30 years ago, when I was young and 17, I was no different. I don’t even remember National Women’s History Month being created. Probably because I had grown up during the years of the Women’s Revolution and had already benefited by their struggles and hard work to achieve equality. I took it for granted that it meant something bigger than my day’s events muddling through my high school hallways.
I have changed since then. I can remember the commercial about taking home the bacon and frying it up in the pan. I wanted to be that woman back then, now I guess I am that woman, but except I'm too tired so I’d rather dial in for pizza.
Now that I’m older I can appreciate the struggles carried on by women before me and I recognize that there were still struggles to be had. All has not been accomplished; equality may be written on paper but not necessarily in the hearts and minds of the powers that be.
Women’s organizations, such as ours, are in Albany and Washington, D.C. carrying on the battle cry of our foremothers. We are still fighting for equal value in the workplace. We are still fighting for paid family leave. We are still fighting for reasonable costing, quality childcare. We are still fighting for equal access in the political arena – be it in our local government, state government or national government. We are still fighting to break the glass ceiling. We are still fighting for the Equal Rights Amendment to be signed into law.
No doubt we have come a long way baby, but complacency will not only stop the movement from moving forward but may turn it back.
It is our task to continue the work of our foremothers. It is our responsibility to teach our daughters, nieces, and grandchildren that they have a responsibility to change the world around them. Even more so it is our obligation to teach our sons, nephews and grandchildren in such a way as to foster equality, respect of women, and value for our differences.
We ourselves must be aware our achievements and conscious of the strides we still need to achieve.
Each of us is a woman of history and we forge the history of tomorrow together. Our work is not over, it has only just begun.