At the risk of hearing a chorus of “OK, Boomer,” I declare myself as a septuagenarian an embodiment of women’s history (white women, that is) in America. It’s all right — most of us accept the title with affection. There’s a surprising appreciation among the “young’uns” for the music, culture, ideas and attitudes that motivated so many of us in the 1960s. They are experiencing similar circumstances to ours, as those men who still think power and control are their birthright are attacking cultural, legal and economic changes that offend their sense of entitlement.
For centuries, American women were treated as “the weaker sex,” unsuited for the challenges of higher education or the rough-and-tumble of politics, sports or competitive employment. The men in charge declared that too much exertion, either intellectual or physical, would harm our delicate lady parts, keeping us from fulfilling our primary role as child-bearers. They saved these protective sentiments for wealthy white women, of course — others were useful for low- or no-wage physical labor.
Women of the 19th century fought bravely and endured repeated failure, physical violence, ostracism and imprisonment to win the right to vote in 1920, finally giving them a direct voice in determining what societal roles suited them. It had taken almost 150 years because they were fighting not just against polite gender norms, but a rigid class structure that also included pervasive racism. President Theodore Roosevelt wrote that white women were committing “race suicide” by going to college, and that a race is “unfit to cumber the earth if its men do not work hard and its women breed.” There’s a vocal segment of the MAGA movement using similar language right now.
Fifty years after the passage of the 19th Amendment, I graduated from college. We daughters of the Rosie the Riveters — women whose work was essential to winning World War II — knew about our mothers’ accomplishments and felt the injustice of their being fired from “men’s jobs” after the war and sent to the suburbs. But as both sons and daughters of white veterans got access to a college education through the GI Bill, a world of possibilities opened up and spurred decades of progress in women’s rights.
Millions of women and our self-assured male allies fought in the 70s and 80s in courts, polling places, schools, gyms,and even in their own homes against norms and barriers that prevented women not just from achieving their dreams, but from even understanding such dreams were possible. As a senior in high school in 1966, I was laughed at by my otherwise stellar English teacher for suggesting I’d like to be an investigative reporter. Girls didn’t do that kind of thing, and no one would hire me if I tried.
The Title IX Act of 1972 was a watershed. It states that “No person in the United States shall, on the basis of sex, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any education program or activity receiving federal financial assistance.” From that flowed a fountain of reforms. My mother finally got to hold a credit card in her own name and own a car, a house and health insurance. Women could finally serve on juries in all 50 states, make their own reproductive decisions, and not be fired for getting pregnant. They could finally take legal action against sexual harassment in the workplace and hold husbands and partners accountable for abuse.
Dire predictions ensued: boys’ and men’s athletic programs would be devastated by reduced funding. Women would replace men in schools and jobs. They would delay marriage to pursue careers. Society would collapse. Only the assumption of male privilege was harmed: efforts from Women’s Lib of the 60s to the Me Too movement of the 21st century have advanced our ability to live both more independently and more securely.
MAGA men strenuously object. Their loudest spokesman is Secretary of War (a made-up title that only highlights his insecurity) Pete Hegseth, who preaches that it’s only because of “woke” policies that women have advanced in the military when he was unable to. His solution is to return to a time when men who were afraid to compete with women could define women’s “place” and build discriminatory systems to keep them there.
One hundred and sixteen years ago, feminist ally W. E. B. Dubois wrote, “There is no force equal to a woman determined to rise.” Ten years later, suffragists won my grandmothers’ right to vote, making my mother’s generation the first in America to be born with that right. With political power, they won the economic power to be self-sufficient.
In our daughter’s lifetime, women have accrued enough power to rise in many areas of achievement and to hold men accountable who abuse their power. Our granddaughter is the third living generation in our family benefitting from the liberties others fought to secure. We intend to continue that work together.
Jean Lewandowski is a retired special needs teacher. She lives in Nashua.