In 1968, the Phillip
Morris Company introduced Virginia Slims, a cigarette aimed at young,
professional women. The idea was that female smokers would embrace the idea of
having their own brand. A Virginia Slim cigarette--being thinner and slightly
longer--was supposedly more eloquent looking when held in a lady’s hand. It
also produced less smoke. These attributes, the company felt, that would make
it more appealing to the fairer sex.
Other than height and width, there was
little to distinguish this brand from the other cigarettes. But that’s true of
a lot of products. To encourage consumers to purchase your product rather than
a competitor’s offering requires marketing and advertising. To that end, the promoters
of Virginia Slims used the slogan: “You’ve come a long way, baby.”
Well, I can say it was a pretty good one. It
stuck in people’s mind—or least mine. It implied, correctly I’d say, that women
in the late ‘60s had come a long way in being their own person, having jobs,
being independent, and having a voice in matters.
But that said, longstanding cultural, social
and economic obstacles remained in place back then that still prevented many women
from being on par with men, not to mention their being the victims of unfair
treatment, put downs, and pressures on them to conform to an acceptable role
model.
So here we are in the year 2016. The status
of women in our society and the opportunities available to them has come even
further since the Virginia Slims’ motto was coined, although those longstanding
obstacles, while not as daunting as they once were, still exist to some degree.
The nation even has its first woman
nominated by a major political party for the office of President—a milestone
that was a long time coming.
Yet the possibility, the very idea of a
woman being elected to this position, has its detractors—their objections based
not so much on her beliefs or qualifications (all fair game for political
criticism) but more so on her gender. A woman, any woman in their estimation,
is not up to the task.
* * *
IN
ORDER TO JUDGE PROGRESS, OR THE LACK THEREOF, IT HELPS TO GO BACK TO THE origins
and then measure the distance. So, where and how did women’s rights become a
matter of public discourse in America?
History offers a lot of possibilities, a
lot of threads that can be followed backward, but events occurring in the 1840s
would have to be included. During that time frame, a number of women in
America—many of them involved in the Abolition Movement and other reform
efforts and having a religious fervor—sought to exert more control over their
lives. They chaffed at the fact that in the eyes of the law and through the
pressure of the existing cultural norms a woman was under the control of their
father or husband with few rights of their own. Any active participation
outside the family or the church was frowned upon, and even with the latter
institution, their involvement had its limitations. For instance, women
speaking against slavery in public to a mixed audience of men and women were
criticized by otherwise sympathetic ministers “for stepping outside their
proper place.”
State statues and common law during that
era prohibited women from inheriting property, signing contracts, serving on
juries, and voting in elections. Women's prospects in employment were also
limited. The occupations that were open to a female worker were mostly
service-related jobs, and even then women who held these positions received
less compensation than men doing the same work.
One of the landmark occurrences that began
to change this situation—as we know in retrospect--was the meeting of Lucretia
Mott and Elizabeth Cady Stanton. These two women—both of them abolitionists—were
introduced to each other at the 1840 World Anti-Slavery Convention in London.
Besides being against slavery, they soon found another common cause. It seems
that while the men who organized this event were involved in the noble work of
ending human bondage, these two women and other ladies in attendance were
barred from the convention floor.
The friendship
that evolved from this meeting, and their shared indignation at this and other
acts of discrimination, would eventually lead to their holding a convention in
a chapel in Seneca Falls, New York eight years later on the matter of women’s
rights. The two-day affair took place on July 19-20, 1848 and drew around 100
people, with two-thirds of them being women. The sole African-American in
attendance, a man, was the famous Frederick Douglass.
The organizers advertised it as a gathering
“to discuss the social, civil, and religious condition and rights of woman.” A Declaration of Sentiments, Grievances, and Resolutions,
written by Stanton, was presented to the convention for consideration and
debate. The preamble mirrored the opening paragraphs of the Declaration of Independence—only two
words were added to the document’s most famous statement. Instead of saying
that “all men are created equal,” Stanton wrote “all men and women are created
equal.”
Most of the grievances and resolutions addressed
the various social and institutional barriers then in existence, among them the
lack of educational opportunities, the “monopoly of the pulpit” by men, and a
lack of access to the professions and trades and other economic opportunities.
Interestingly, the only resolution that
resulted in much dissent was the one advocating that women should have the
right to vote, and by extension have a voice in the formation of laws and
public policy. A number of the attendees felt that including this contentious
political proposal would hurt the chances of gaining support for the other
resolutions. Those other (supposedly
less volatile) propositions, they argued, would have a better chance of gaining
acceptance and support from the general public if the matter of suffrage was
left out.
It
was Douglass, in what was described as an eloquent speech, who counseled the
delegates that they should include the right to vote in their list; that doing
otherwise was accepting their disenfranchisement and that the world would be a
better place if women were involved in the political sphere.
Having passed these resolutions, the
organizers then sought to publicize them and seek their enactment. They
obviously did so with their eyes wide open. The closing paragraph stated: “In
entering upon the great work before us, we anticipate no small amount of
misconception, misrepresentation, and ridicule; but we shall use every
instrumentality within our power to effect our object. We shall employ agents,
circulate tracts, petition the State and national Legislatures, and endeavor to
enlist the pulpit and the press in our behalf. We hope this Convention will be
followed by a series of Conventions, embracing every part of the country.”
The immediate reaction was both favorable
and, as they anticipated, derogatory. These conventions did, as hoped for,
become annual affairs up until the Civil War and within a few years the ‘right
to vote’ became a central tenet of the women’s movement.
As we
know, Women’s Suffrage turned into a protracted struggle. Leaders saw an
opportunity at the end of the Civil War as Congress considered the 14th
and 15th Amendments that extended citizenship and voting rights to
the freed slaves. Those lobbying efforts to include women in the provisions,
however, were unsuccessful.
There was progress in the latter part of the
19th century and the early years of the 20th century as
several states—most of them in the West—granted this franchise. But it was not
until 1920—seventy-two years after the meeting at Seneca Falls--that the 19th
Amendment to the U.S. Constitution was passed and women could now vote—and by
extension could hold elective office. Of the women at the 1848 Convention who
signed the document, only one was still alive at that late date. Unfortunately,
she was not well enough to exercise this long denied right.
Many of the other grievances outlined at this
first gathering also proved to be difficult challenges to overcome. Even when
laws were passed giving women more rights and even as social norms became more
inclusive, attitudes have persisted that support subtler forms of
discrimination--the double standards that have existed when it came to jobs,
wages, education, economic opportunities, career advancement, physical looks,
and behavior.
The belief that women “should know their place” or be
“submissive to their husbands” has its adherents. Even now we hear that a woman
might not have “the brains, the stamina, or the proper look” to be president.
* * *
WHILE THIS
HISTORY OF WOMEN’S RIGHTS IS INFORMATIVE, AND WHILE IT HELPS PROVIDE a better understanding of the issue (past and
present), the view is often (for men anyway) seen from afar. More enlightening is when the
consequences are brought closer to home, when the unfair treatment and
discrimination happens to someone we know. When this sort of injustice happens,
then the issue gains more meaning.
Such
was the case for me with two incidents that involved my mother. Each of them
occurred many years ago. They were (in my view) examples of the obstacles and
double standards that women have faced, and too often still face. Having
witnessed them first hand and now reflecting on them these many years later, I
believe their telling can serve as a good history lesson for current
discussions about sexism and gender equality.
It
was in the mid-60s, after us kids had gotten old enough, when my mother, June,
decided to look for a job. She had been an employee at Citizens Insurance in
Howell (her hometown) after high school graduation. Once she got married and
came to Fowlerville, her time was occupied as a homemaker, farm wife, and
mother.
She
was a go-getter. Each spring she would plant a large garden with green beans,
tomatoes, cucumbers, green peppers, and other vegetables. There was also a
nearby sweet corn patch, a pear tree in the front yard, and we went to various places
to pick strawberries, raspberries, and peaches. She’d also order a case of
blueberries.
The end result was that from early summer to
late September, she did a lot of canning, jam making, and freezing of these
fruits and vegetables.
I was enlisted to help weed and water the
garden, pick the berries and peaches and pears, husk the corn and snap the
beans, and otherwise assist as instructed.
She also did a lot of sewing, making many of
the outfits for herself and my sister, along with helping with farm chores or
driving the tractor when needed.
She attacked the challenge of finding a job
with the same energy. I remember her getting a typewriter and sitting at the
kitchen table, polishing up on that skill. She soon began applying for positions
and was hired as a secretary to the personnel director at a factory in Howell.
Her reason for seeking this employment was
that we could use the extra money. Which was true—most families, then as now,
can stand a few extra dollars. But I think she had an ulterior motive; that she
wanted to get off the farm and try something new. This speculation is not to
suggest that she felt there was anything lacking in being a farm wife and
homemaker, but her personality sought a different challenge.
And the reality was that many of those
tasks on the farm and in our home did not end with her new (paying) occupation.
Many of them were simply shifted to the evening hours and weekends.
A
woman with a job, including those married to a farmer, was certainly not a
novelty in those years. My grandmother along with several other area ladies
enjoyed careers in teaching. Others worked as cooks, bus drivers, and
custodians at the school. There were women who had jobs on the assembly lines
of area factories or who were employed as secretaries at various businesses
(like my mother) or served as cashiers and clerks at stores. Still others
helped run the assorted family businesses, with a few women even owning their
own establishments.
What you didn’t see much of back then were
women who were doctors, dentists, attorneys, realtors, company executives,
ministers, and school superintendents.
Having this job, along with the extra income,
proved to be a fortunate circumstance for my mother and our family when, in
1967, my father experienced heart problems and then died. My grandparents
invited us to remain on the farm and suggested we move our dairy herd to their
place. Under this arrangement, Mom would keep her job while yours truly—sixteen
years old at the time--would continue helping with the farm work.
It was a generous offer, but my mother had a
different idea. She was ready to leave the farm, and her dream was to own her
own home and, in doing so, have a measure of independence. The cows would be
the means of accomplishing that goal. Part of the plan she formulated was for
me to milk the cows in the morning and then head to the house to clean up and
eat. She, meanwhile, would wash the milk equipment while my sister and brother
would feed the calves. Each of them would then take turns bathing and otherwise
getting ready for school and work. The same division of labor took place in the
evening.
There were, of course, lots of other work to
do on the farm; tasks I was familiar with since I’d been doing them for the
past few years, taking on more responsibility as I got older.
Mom’s first necessity was to pay off the
debt my father had accumulated—nothing out of the ordinary when operating a
farm, but a financial hurdle that stood in the way of her goal. She then
started saving money for the new house. She bought a lot for $1,000 in the
subdivision north of town from George Finlan, our uncle, and then began plans
for the house.
The herd was soon offered for sale, but with
the caveat that all of the cattle had to be purchased together. There were
around 20 to 25 head as I recall. That proved a problem since most of the men
who came to look at them wanted to cherry pick the good ones, or did not wish
to offer as much money as my mother wanted (or more likely needed).
I remember that the four of us faced a few
challenges in this quest during the ensuing months. Money was tight and soon I
was putting gas and a few other farm expenses on credit until enough cash
became available. We did not have a lot of oats and corn stored away for cow
feed, and, until it was finally fixed, the pick-up I used had a problem. After
going two or three miles, it would often quit running, requiring that we wait
until the motor had cooled before we could get it re-started and resume our trip.
The school officials and our respective teachers got used to my brother and
sister and I being a few minutes late.
One unexpected threat to the plan came when we
heard through the grapevine that the health inspector had been telling others
that “there’s no way I’m letting a woman and a teen-aged boy run a dairy farm.”
We did not regard that as an idle
comment. Anyone who grew up on milk farm knows that the health inspector was a
powerful person with his ability to shut you down and dump your tank full of
milk.
To say that this was unfair would be an
understatement. I regard it more so now than I did back then. We weren’t doing
anything different than when my father was alive. In fact, the equipment—washed
by my mother—was probably cleaner. As for my milking the cows, I had been
helping my father since age 13 and, during his illness, had been doing the work
myself.
We
survived those various challenges; in part due to my mother’s resolve, but also
thanks to the helping hand of family and friends and a couple of men in town
who let us run a tab higher than might have seemed prudent. As for the
inspector, I don’t know if someone talked him into waiting or if he realized
that my mother was eager as he was to see us done with milking cows, but he
never acted on this threat.
The
following summer we sold the cows, along with the farm equipment, at an
auction. I took care of the cows that final morning in our barn, and the next
day started milking cows at my grandparents’ place. The only difference—and not
a small one—was that I didn’t have to do it in the mornings, only in the late
afternoon. I was elated: No more getting up each and every morning at 5:30.
Also that summer my mother was able to hire
a builder to start construction of the house. I think it cost around $18,000.
She reduced the overall expense by painting all of the walls and staining the
wood work. While I was not privy to all of the details, I know that she did not
save enough from her job or the milk check nor obtain adequate funds from the
auction to cover the entire cost of construction. As far as I know she did not
seek a bank loan. I’m guessing that obtaining a mortgage would have been
difficult, if not impossible, given her financial circumstances—with only the
weekly wages of a secretary and the fact she was widowed with children.
Whatever difference existed was covered by my
Grandma Horton. I know, because once a month Mom would hand me an envelope with
a check—Grandma’s name being on it--and instructions to give it to her. Grandma had been among those who had urged my
mother to stay put. But once Mom had made her choice, Grandma (as she had done
and would do in many other family matters) came to the rescue…One woman helping
another woman to realize her dream.
* * *
AS FOR THE OTHER INCIDENT, I DON’T REMEMBER
ALL OF THE DETAILS BUT A FEW years later the owner of the factory where my
mother worked passed away. His sons took over the operation and decided to
streamline operations and cut costs. Mainly
the latter. As a consequence, a number of people had their employment
terminated, including the gentleman—my mother’s boss—who was the personnel
director.
In the ensuing re-organization, Mom was
given that position. However, the secretarial position was not filled. She was
expected to handle the amount of work previously done by her and her boss. And,
her pay was less than what the male personnel director had received.
Well, she was of a generation (growing up
during the Great Depression and World War II) where a man receiving more money
than a woman for the same or a similar job was a norm, but also where employees
were loyal to the firm and, for the most part, sought to be good team players.
Despite not liking what had happened to
her boss (who along with his wife had become good friends), she accepted the
new opportunity of being the director and sought to be a good employee. In
fairness, the streamlining was probably necessary, although painful for those
who lost their jobs.
But the changed policies of the new regime soon
tested her loyalty, and the pay discrepancy irritated her. Eventually she left.
As it turned out, she enjoyed a soft
landing. Given her experience, she was hired by United Parcel Service and
worked in the company’s East Lansing office. The company provided paid health
insurance to its employees, so her job was to handle the claims submitted by
these workers.
With this changed circumstance and with the
death of my sister a couple of years before, she decided to sell the house and
buy a place in Lansing. She wanted to be closer to her work and probably a
change in scenery, but also (I knew) she once again sought a new challenge. It was in the mid-1970s, inflation had
resulted in much higher property values, and she realized a tidy profit. She
gave a cut of it to my brother and me. Our shares, she said, for what we’d accomplished
a few years before.
* * *
WHEN
I REFLECT ON THIS PERSONAL HISTORY, JUXTAPOSED WITH THE LARGER panorama of
women seeking their rights that began in earnest during the 1840s--an effort that is still ongoing--I
think of that gesture made by my mother. Indeed, there is much we can
accomplish by working in unison, whether as a family or a society, and each of
us deserves a share of any reward.
True,
we are not all alike, but we all have the right to participate, to take our
chances, and to pursue our dreams. Whatever limitations exist, they ought to be
those of talent, ambition, and personal choice--not restrictions erected by
those harboring a prejudice; obstacles maintained by those whose only intent is
to prevent, thwart, and exploit.
“You’ve
come a long way, baby.” That’s true for women, but also for many of us men.
Yet, while a good measure of progress has occurred, there’s still a distance left
to travel. Together, we can get there.
No comments:
Post a Comment