The rest of you net-bunnies are probably too young to get the joke or get excited over this, but I am all stirred up to find a whole article by the Big G, whose every word informed so much of our lives ever after. Women my age. Um, that would be Gloria Steinem. (Remember her? Ya little runts?)
This is like hearing from the Pope! That is, If I gave a damn what some (any) isolated old man says, which I do not, and on principle, be you female or male, neither should you.
Steinem writes—and I want you to remember this—there will be a quiz:
Gender is probably the most restricting force in American life
… whether the question is who must be in the kitchen or who could be in the White House.
I am just going to do a dance around that statement, and you don’t get to fuck with it. Gloria said so.
No happy dance, no way. You think things are that much further along than in 1976, when the boldest of us, because it was a Movement, rather timorously proposed that perhaps our husbands might change a diaper? Do the dishes sometimes too? And it took a whole movement to get up the nerve—don’t laugh—because no one ever had. Asked these guys to get off their duff. Not en masse. Not, you can be sure, at home. His castle! And we took a beating for it, emotionally, which anyone knows is how to really hurt a woman. The tide of ridicule rode high.
The Patriarchy, even the puniest of them (and what a boon it was) were still coasting along like so many low-hanging hot-air balloons, still making Money the household God, as well as demanding we all worship at that altar. Issuing forth the same crap accusations if we disagreed as … as has been so recently seen in the latest TechyCrunchDirt fooforaw, wherein the guy in charge was either so hair-trigger or so bloated with entitlement—and isn’t this the first thing men buy with their power?—so beyond criticism, it took him about two minutes to attack, in that time-honored, go for the gonads way, the woman who dared a critique.
The difference, in thirty years, (which BTW, went by in an eye-blink) is that I may speak freely about this asshole and many others. I may also be loathed, hated, misunderstood … But the real difference is that I know now, all the way to my bones and back, that the way a man speaks to you offers a complete characterological study of him—even if it’s more than you wished, or, more often, horribly less. For women do dream, and men, thinking it their duty, do not disabuse us unless or until they find their own motivation to. Meanwhile you can be floating along and then one day, blam.
Does it matter if I tell you this is not autobiographical, that I was in fact the one who blammed him, though no one ever had longer or fair warning. None so blind, and all that.
For those of you who like a bit of science with your tea, Steinem also wrote
This country is way down the list of countries electing women … it polarizes gender roles more than the average democracy.
There’s more to her article, but my god, enough pearls for one day.