In October of 1978, The Equal Rights Amendment granting fair and equal compensation to women in the workplace was narrowly defeated. With just two states left to ensure ratification of the Amendment, three states including Utah and Arizona voted 'No' and consigned equal rights for women to the dustbin of history.
Why did it matter? Why did it matter to anyone except working women? Here's my 2 cents and it's worth every penny.
1978 was a much different social environment than 2015. Women, for the most part, stayed home and raised kids. It was 'Ozzie and Harriet', 'My Three Sons', and 'I Dream of Jeanie'. The people I admired and trusted deified the likes of Phyllis Schafley and her 'Eagle Forum', and demonized pesky 'bra burning' feminists like Gloria Steinem.
I have always been bothered by the role I played in helping to defeat the ERA. I was a young, typical housewife with two babies already. My ecclesiastical leaders and the Church I belonged to were staunch opponents of the ERA. My Church played a formidable role in the state politics of both Utah and Arizona. As a young wife, I wanted to do the right thing. I wanted to be seen as an obedient follower. I was Moldable. Malleable. Gullible. And Dumb.
I have been wanting to get this off of my chest for a long time. When I consented to the use of my name in the signing of blanket opposition statements and mailings to government officials, when I stepped onto the bus headed for the Capitol Building in Phoenix for an anti-ERA rally, I was wrong. When I was tutored not to let anyone know that I belonged to a concerted, powerful Church-sponsored campaign to defeat the ERA, and I agreed to that deceit, I was wrong. Let me repeat that. I was wrong.
I am sorry. For every woman still working at 70 percent of the pay scale that her male counterpart earns doing the same job, I am sorry. For every divorced, single, or widowed woman counting on a fair paycheck to support her family, I am sorry. To both of my well-educated daughters, who STILL face sexual harassment and discrimination in the workplace, I am sorry. To every single woman who has faced painful, agonizing decisions requiring that she return to an uneven playing field called the 'workplace', I AM SORRY.
There are a myriad of reasons why women have returned to the workplace in ever rising numbers. When they get there, they still face hurdles that my generation should have had the courage to overcome for them. I am sorry. To my daughters, my seven granddaughters, and all the young women whose lives have touched mine, forgive me. When I should have stood alone, I was afraid and naive. My soul, my heart, told me that the defeat of the ERA would have long lasting consequences. I was young and anxious and scared.
It will never happen again. I am a FEMINIST. And I'm not ever getting on the bus again.
Why did it matter? Why did it matter to anyone except working women? Here's my 2 cents and it's worth every penny.
1978 was a much different social environment than 2015. Women, for the most part, stayed home and raised kids. It was 'Ozzie and Harriet', 'My Three Sons', and 'I Dream of Jeanie'. The people I admired and trusted deified the likes of Phyllis Schafley and her 'Eagle Forum', and demonized pesky 'bra burning' feminists like Gloria Steinem.
I have always been bothered by the role I played in helping to defeat the ERA. I was a young, typical housewife with two babies already. My ecclesiastical leaders and the Church I belonged to were staunch opponents of the ERA. My Church played a formidable role in the state politics of both Utah and Arizona. As a young wife, I wanted to do the right thing. I wanted to be seen as an obedient follower. I was Moldable. Malleable. Gullible. And Dumb.
I have been wanting to get this off of my chest for a long time. When I consented to the use of my name in the signing of blanket opposition statements and mailings to government officials, when I stepped onto the bus headed for the Capitol Building in Phoenix for an anti-ERA rally, I was wrong. When I was tutored not to let anyone know that I belonged to a concerted, powerful Church-sponsored campaign to defeat the ERA, and I agreed to that deceit, I was wrong. Let me repeat that. I was wrong.
I am sorry. For every woman still working at 70 percent of the pay scale that her male counterpart earns doing the same job, I am sorry. For every divorced, single, or widowed woman counting on a fair paycheck to support her family, I am sorry. To both of my well-educated daughters, who STILL face sexual harassment and discrimination in the workplace, I am sorry. To every single woman who has faced painful, agonizing decisions requiring that she return to an uneven playing field called the 'workplace', I AM SORRY.
There are a myriad of reasons why women have returned to the workplace in ever rising numbers. When they get there, they still face hurdles that my generation should have had the courage to overcome for them. I am sorry. To my daughters, my seven granddaughters, and all the young women whose lives have touched mine, forgive me. When I should have stood alone, I was afraid and naive. My soul, my heart, told me that the defeat of the ERA would have long lasting consequences. I was young and anxious and scared.
It will never happen again. I am a FEMINIST. And I'm not ever getting on the bus again.
