The Next Chapter

I was six years old in 1970 when the Women’s Liberation Movement began to get heated. I heard about most of what was going on in distressed tones; bra burnings, women who were angry at men, Gloria Steinem was a “ man hater ” and the onslaught of the Equal Rights Amendment had begun.  In the home I grew up in, my father praised my mother as much more valuable to my life than he would ever be. I listened to his counsel, watched my mother closely and never felt inferior as a young girl in the world.  

I had a happy childhood. I was given opportunities to learn for myself with few rules.

I remember one day walking home from school for lunch. I was in the third grade. That day I was wearing a favorite skirt, blouse and red tights. I noticed that a boy from my class, who I did not like,  was walking rather fast behind me. He stayed at an even pace with mine and finally ran to my side. He said nothing but looked at me and then he proceeded to shake me and push me to the concrete sidewalk, tearing a hole in the knee of my red tights. I rushed home, very sad, to my mother. Her comment to me was, “Oh, he probably just likes you.” Afraid of walking back to school, I begged my mother to drive me. She allowed me to walk back and face my fears. He was nowhere to be found but he was in the principal’s office when I arrived back at school.  In one day I had become stronger. I determined then, that I never wanted a boy to “like me” like that again. Today I can still remember his name and see his twisted face.

When I was in high school my father traveled with his job quite often. I was never sure if he was out of town or upstairs in his room. My life was all about me so his schedule was very far down on my list of “things to know”.  I happened to be home on a Friday night when he came through the front door. I was in complete torture mode that I had been somehow unlucky enough to have no social plans for the night. An even greater affliction was that the only TV show that was on was the Love Boat. My dad walked into the house, dropped his bags and walked into the den where I was sitting. He took the 45 record he held in his hands and put it on the console stereo, turned it up loud and called for my mother. I watched as she came into the room, smiling at my dad as he stood with hands outstretched in an offer to dance with her. He had purchased the song  “Joanna ”, by Cool and the Gang. My mother’s name is Joanna.  They danced there while I followed their movement around the room. Today I can still see their young faces, as they laughed and danced. I learned something about how a woman should be treated from their example that night.

Right after high school I was living at home while attending Memphis State University. I had to pay for my own schooling so home was a way to save a lot of money.  I remember my mother asking me if I would help her study for her final exam. She too was back in school, getting her Master’s Degree. I read from her spiral notebook with handwritten notes and quizzed her on lipids and fats and body functions. My mother had been a stay-at-home mom my whole life. In fact, to this day she has never had a job outside the home. She has been a leader in our community and in the church. In fact,  during the process of state ratification for the Equal Rights Amendment, my mother led a group of women to the Illinois state capital to be sure it did not pass. She had read, studied and understood the law was hurtful to women. I still know very little about the amendment, but have heard my mother say it would have been to women’s ultimate detriment if it had passed. What I do know is that my mother believes vehemently in the advancement and equality of women. From her,  l learned that women should pull together and not divide based on social, cultural or religious differences and that we look out for one another. I also came to understand that it is vital to always be learning and growing.

A few years later, I married after nine months of dating. We were both twenty-one. We had a queen size bed frame, one mattress, a dresser, our clothing and one car...oh and my 35 mm camera. Neither of us had a college degree. We moved far away from both our families and went to work. Both of us worked during the day and then at night we cleaned office buildings together for Service Master. When I was tired from my day at work he would go alone to clean the offices. When the urinals at the Power and Light building were extra gross from the linemen that day he would clean them for me. Each night we would get home, eat some inexpensive meal and watch the Rockford Files on TV. While there was nothing glamourous about our lives, we sure had a lot of fun. We had our first daughter a year and a half later. In ten years we had five kids...on purpose. He and I banded together to provide a happy home. We worked harder than ever before. Being a mother is the best decision I ever made. 

With each new addition to our family, my husband got a promotion that doubled his salary. He got his Bachelor’s Degree in 2004 and his Master’s Degree in 2010.  For my 30th birthday he paid for me to take a photography class at Memphis State University. Today I have my own photography business.

Please do not misunderstand and believe that my life has been without it’s tremendous challenges. I have had many.  Sometimes, during those days, I forgot who I was. 

 Still... My entire life I have felt capable and empowered as a woman. Much of that feeling has been sustained by the courteous and kind men in my life. I did not feel diminished because my career choice was full-time motherhood. Once, when I was asked to be a keynote speaker at a conference, they asked how I wanted to be introduced. My response was, “Tell them that I am a Mother.” I have not felt slighted or cheated ever because I was a woman. I believe that being feminine is a greater tool of empowerment than being a feminist. If someone reacts adversely to my choices, as silly or unsophisticated, I count them as sadly unable to listen to another side.  

Ten years ago, you would have found me most mornings in a water aerobics class with about fifteen other women who were old enough to be my grandmother. At first I found them fun and sweet but with time I saw their immense wisdom and listened and they became my friends. These were women who had lived in different ways with many varying experiences. In their advanced years these women had learned how to blend their lives together in deep friendship. They showed the sweetest compassion for one another and they had not gotten “old” or quit living life. Though I have lost touch with them, these women are showing me what is ahead for me. 

Most of all as I approach the next season I know there will be other women who will be there to teach me and show me the way. I understand through all seasons of my life that I am immeasurably loved, by a God who knows the value and importance of my life. For I am His daughter and with that knowledge I can always find my way.