When I was 14, my parents divorced. That simple statement cannot capture the trauma — it was like a bomb went off in our family, shattering everything and everyone.
My mom was left with five traumatized children, ages 14, 13, 12, 11, and 10 — and one toddler foster child. Can you even imagine that?!
Married at 20 with her first child (aka me) ten months later, my mom was a mom — that was her job.
My mom’s babies.
She did not finish college, had no particular skills, and was ill-equipped in every way for life as a single parent.
The world did not make it easy for her.
The electric company would not let my mom put the account in her own name — she was a woman. My uncle had to put the account in his name.
She was denied jobs because of gender, including one at International Harvester — hold that thought.
Without a husband in the home, she could not be a foster parent anymore — and so when Robbie left, after a year with us, she lost that part of herself.
The priest at our parish told her she could not take Communion anymore — because of a divorce she did not want or initiate. She lost that part of life as well.
There is a moment burned into my mind of that day when she put her head on the counter and just sobbed, telling us she wanted to kill herself.
Understandable — and terrifying and traumatizing. All of it. For all of us.
My mom and an aunt.
What she eventually did to be okay during that terrible time when our family imploded was instructive and inspiring. She started swimming laps every night. She learned how to change the oil in the car. She joined a class action suit against International Harvester and was part of a settlement that created change. She saw a therapist.
My mom also got a job. She was hired to bottle a product that created a strong, shiny surface on wood. She would come home covered in the stuff.
Mom.
It was a carcinogen. She developed breast cancer a few years later and died at 45. Choices — and lack of choices — have consequences.
Perhaps you can begin to understand why gender equity issues matter so much to me. Perhaps you can also understand why — in spite of not being encouraged to attend college — all three sisters in my family have graduate degrees. Those degrees and the independence they allow us are part of my mom’s legacy. Her suffering mattered.
Me and my two perfect sisters.
Women STILL are paid less than men. We are STILL treated differently in the workplace. Women are STILL denied opportunities because of gender. Yes, we have made progress — painful and slow process — but we are not done.
There is a role for all of us in nurturing the next generation of women. We need to create and hold equitable spaces for girls, encouraging the qualities and traits they will need to be mighty, strong women who have choices — real choices — in their futures.
Me at 15
We need to be examples of what is possible for them, offering contrast to cultural messages that devalue and objectify girls and women. We need to use the power of our collective voices to ensure organizations and institutions have representation at all levels, and offer meaningful and honest opportunities to girls and women.
I hope my granddaughter understands the power and possibilities represented in her name…
…but my commitment is not just to girls in my immediate family. I want ALL girls to grow into women with choices. REAL choices. I want ALL girls to know they are strong and mighty, full of potential and possibilities.
And all that is to offer an introduction to this…
…but the post is too long for today, and so you will need to check back for the rest of the story.
Have a wonderful Sunday!