Rules of Behavior for a Feminist, 1965 -Now

today I am not sure how I got here. Google seems determined to give me a Gmail account I do apparently have but have never used. Whatever.

So much I could talk about. I think I will choose the subject that I am a feminist. An elderly one. At age 9, I objected when my father took my elbow to cross the street.

"Why are you doing that?" I asked, wresting my elbow away.

"A gentleman always takes a lady's arm to cross the street," he said.

And I replied, "Then I am not a lady."

That has worked for and against me ever since.

At 18, I was at a dinner party with family friends and one of the older men commented, after something I said, that "I thought like a man." I was flattered. Only later did I hear the bon mot by a woman I don't remember who quipped, "Which one?"

I wanted to be a journalist, and my parents supported me. In 1965, when I graduated from college, most newspapers would not accept a woman to do "real news." They were "society writers". But I interned at the Fort Worth Star-Telegram in the newsroom, and they hired me.  I was an anomaly. I still remember the day when the male reporters clustered in a corner and one marched up to me and said,"We aren't going to change the way we talk because you are here."

"Fine," I told him. "I will probably learn a lot of new words." And I smiled.  They relaxed. And I did, indeed, learn some new words. And I loved the camaraderie.

There WERE no rules, social or business. So I made my own. I pretty much still use them.

If a man opened a door, I smiled, unless I was competing with him and then I tried to get there first.
If a man was carrying packages, I opened the door for him, and expected the same if I had some. Socially? I went first.

If we went out to eat, I didn't go first. I went in line. We were equal, and that was fair.  At a table, whoever was ready first. After work? Social rules and I went first.

Car doors? At work, my problem. Socially going out? My date opened the door.

I saw no reason not to be equal at work. I saw no reason not to go with social mores at play. I was a pioneer, and these were MY rules.

Pay? At the time I was hired, women were hired at $70 a week, men at $80. I came in at $90. Sorry, but I am still proud of that. I did pretty well in my internship.

I read something recently about a modern woman who felt obligated to take the door a gallant male opened even if it cost her steps. Uh-uh. I ALWAYS thank a man or woman--often at my age now they are young people--who offer a hand. And if I refuse, I always smile. I tell them I appreciate them and for whatever reason,  I'm not accepting, and I say thank you. Because they are trying to do something good. And we should always reward that effort, even if we don't utilize it.

A feminist needs to be so secure in her boundaries she can be friendly even if she's not gonna do what they want.

Forgot about marriage and child care.

I am stunned when I still meet professional women who ALWAYS take off when the kid is sick instead of trading off with the father. My sons had a dad who would work with me on the relatively few times our kids were sick. We would alternate days, or even share days--he had court in the morning, I had a meeting in the afternoon.  Most couples still aren't doing that.  I think they should, but then, my marriage didn't last all that long. I don't think that was the problem, though.
The Glass Ceiling exists. Too few women are reaching top positions.

Despite all the changes in society, and work, I am amazed at how many women are still asking for a little more gruel in the bowl. We are better than that.

It is a different society, in many ways.

It is funny that the rules of behavior I crafted individually still work so well today.

A day to remember

Yesterday was a memorable day.

I bought a house. And my car is NOT totaled. A great deal to do.
I went to a meeting last night with a lot of folks older and much younger than I, and the common trait of all seemed to be awareness of others, and an eager air of curiosity and looking forward. Or maybe I am projecting, but I am too comfortable with these folks not to share a lot of common ground.

My car will be ready in a couple of weeks, and I will begin a new life. There is something to be said for taking out a 30-year loan in my sixties. I most certainly did not encounter age discrimination, gender discrimination, or any other kind.

As I signed my name over and over yesterday, I thought of my dad, considered so liberal and forward thinking because he made a loan to two sisters widowed in WWII without requiring a male relative's signature. In 1948, he let them sign their very own selves to buy their candy shop, Ma-Lee's, and set up in Ruidosa. New Mexico. They did smashingly. Best divinity and fudge I have ever tasted. (sigh) It was a great business.

Yesterday three women--me, the bank officer and the title company representative, sat down to do a little business ourselves. It was a sweet taste of the present and the possibilities for women today.