Why The Equal Rights Amendment Mattered - And Still Does

      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.




   

Say You're Sorry

Welp. It's been something like 36 hours since I returned home from a long trip and I have already had an opportunity to say I'm sorry not once but twice. Once to my husband for calling him an unfortunate name, and twice to my daughter for . . . . .oh, I'll let her tell you.

So let's get down and dirty here. Why should I even bother to say it? "Hey, I'm really sorry about what I just did. It was a mistake and I hurt your feelings. I feel bad." Why can't I just get away with whatever surprise is coming out of my mouth and ignore responsibility for what I say? Because that is NOT the way it works, my friends. And family. And acquaintances. And leaders.

When a person says, "I'm sorry for having hurt you", that person is accepting responsibility for inappropriate actions and words. There is acknowledgement. There is an effort to make amends and to make things right with other human beings. Asking somebody for their forgiveness requires a humbling of a proud heart. If it's done right, there is growth and understanding. There is a promise to do better the next time around. Saying you're sorry makes you more human and yes, more divine.

It's so ironic. We tell children all the time that they should be sorry. In addition, they ought to think of some way to make the hurt they may have caused go away. We could learn a lot by sitting in a nursery class and observing. Children understand. They get it. They know that being contrite will make their little nursery world more civilized.

How healing it would be if government leaders, ecclesiastical leaders, families and friends could say they were sorry. How wonderful if we could all remember that no one is above seeking forgiveness for mistakes.  Rectifying the wrongs. Binding the wounds. Healing the broken hearted.

So think about it. If, like me, you're just as surprised at what comes out of your mouth as anyone else, you will have plenty of opportunities to humbly ask for forgiveness. Say you're sorry. Be sincere. Mean it. Change your behavior. Show forth afterward an increase of love.

I'm going now. I need to call my daughter. Say I'm sorry. Tell her that I love her. And that my offense to her spirit won't ever happen again.

Life is beautiful when things work out, isn't it?

DONE. WITH. THAT.

Hi. It's been awhile since I wrote anything on this blog. I'm not sure why. I still have stuff to say that I really shouldn't tell people. Perhaps I have lost my nerve. Or I decided that no one was listening. Nothing I have to say would make any difference, so why bother?

WRONG. Regardless of whether you listen or not, whether you agree or not, whether you ever speak to me again, I've got something to say. Hang on.

I began this blog shortly after returning from India in 2012. I have always enjoyed writing, though it's a difficult mental exercise and sometimes it's an emotionally draining experience. When I started
stuffishouldn'ttellpeople.blogspot.com, it had a very different purpose and a different tone than the blog I wrote from India. Sometimes, my topics were all too personal and I addressed controversial subjects near and dear to my heart. I'm sure some of what I wrote offended some. That's a risk I took.

It's a difficult thing to really hang yourself out there for all the world to see, especially when there's a chance you are going to be losing friends. Blogging can be fun. It can be therapeutic. It can also be dangerous. Sometimes the comment section can be a hurtful experience.

This morning, I realized that by my silence, I have voluntarily surrendered my freedom of expression. I am still that little girl trying to be all things to all people, afraid of censure, unwilling to churn the waters. . . . . . . . DONE. WITH. THAT.

That changes today.  I'm done with the pretense. Done with disguise. Done with acquiescing. Done with silently standing by while actions are taken in my name that I adamantly oppose.

Spend some time reading a little bit of what I have already written. If you are uncomfortable with it, your options are very clear. Stop reading my blog. If yours is a tone of condescension or condemnation, or even worse, silent exclusion, you are in the wrong place.

I have big fish to fry. Welcome to the picnic. And I don't mind if you take a pass. We will both be happier.

The Dungeon of Dissent

     In 1933, an evil and corrupt regime took control of a wonderful country. When the horror ended twelve years later, fifty million men, women and children lay dead. Germany, the birthplace of Bach, Beethoven, and Mozart, had conceived and carried out mass genocide on such a scale that even now, seventy years later, we are still numbed with shock. How did it happen?

     For such evil to flourish and grow, average people like you and me were recruited. Mass murder was not the work of just a few psychopaths. It required cooperation. People allowed themselves to be deluded into believing that they possessed an inherent God given right to rule over their less worthy and somehow flawed brothers and sisters. As thousands of families trudged wearily to their deaths outside the villa gates, in the gardens ordinary people played silly childhood games with their children, the 'chosen' race.

     Evil people are manipulators extraordinaire. They seize upon irrational fears, unfounded ignorance and centuries old prejudice. They accentuate differences and they isolate and separate those who are different or deemed inferior. Theirs is the politics of exclusion. Shamefully, these masters of confusion, call forth the name of Jesus Christ, the Savior of all the world, as their exemplar and justification for what they do.

     Are we losing our courage to speak up and speak out? Have we forgotten how to use our most precious gift of free agency? Are we fearful when our Christian brothers and sisters question our commitment to God? Are we allowing someone else to approve who is and who is not invited to the table of Christ? When someone insists on interpreting scripture to fit a personal bias, with our silence do we tacitly approve the politics of exclusion?

     Of course I'm fearful. Simply advocating for the right to dissent marks me as 'disobedient' and 'disloyal' in the minds of some. God gave us a brain for a reason. We're supposed to use it. At all times and in all things and in all places. Since the world began, 'exclusion' has been a deadly weapon savagely wielded by Satan. He can buy nations, churches, homes and individual souls by accentuating our differences and separating us from one another.

     I choose inclusion. I choose acceptance. However you may be different from me, or I from you, I choose to enter eternity next to you. Excluding the heart and soul of another is not an option. When the forces of exclusionary practices and beliefs come for me, I won't be hiding. I choose the Dungeon of Dissent.
    

    

How To Raise A Girl.

     I'm no authority on this subject. Is anyone? I used to get sucked into believing that everyone knew more than I did about how to raise a girl.  I threw away parenting books almost as rapidly as I bought them. One day, I filled the trunk of my car with parenting 'help' books and puttered off to a book donation drop. I resolved to never again rely on a stranger's advice regarding my kids. And I haven't.

    I have formed some opinions. On how to raise a girl.

    Girls are not toys. They have formidable talents and intelligence. They are capable, enterprising, tenacious and ambitious. However girls choose to expend their energies, let's make one thing perfectly clear. Girls are not toys. They are valuable in their own right. They were not created to meet the needs or expectations of men.

    Girls have options. None of those options should include dependence upon men or a self image linked to how many men a girl can attract. From the clothes designed for girls, the movies, television, advertising - daily, the message to girls is that attractiveness is their sole important asset. If a girl can't snag a man, she's somehow deficient. Stomp out those messages. Don't let that attitude anywhere near a girl.

     Girls deserve and should receive a complete education in their chosen field. It's the best insurance policy around. Acquiring training and expertise means self determination and self-satisfaction. It also means that a girl is self-reliant. When push comes to shove . . . . . . . wait. Nobody pushes or shoves a confident, self-reliant girl around.

     Girls don't want to be lifted on a pedestal by men and worshipped as a 'goddess'. Girls want to be treated fairly in the workplace, at home, and at Church. A girl who is confident in her own abilities, skills, and intelligence will be equal to anyone whatever the circumstances.

     A girl who knows that she is not a toy weighs her options on an even playing field. She knows she is worthwhile and of infinite worth. She is educated and confident. That's the kind of girls I raised when I threw out all of the parenting books. Good luck to everyone lucky enough to have a girl.

    Oh. And one more thing. Remember that one day your girls will be your best friends.

A Scout is Kind

     The BSA leadership must be thinking that outdoor survival skills are a cinch compared to the mess they are dealing with now.

     What to do. What to do. Either the BSA continues its program of discrimination against gay scouts and leaders and they lose the sponsorship of small businesses like, oh, Intel and United Parcel Service, or they change the policy and lose the support of a majority of their Church sponsored groups.

     Let's be clear. The BSA has struggled for years with Pedophiles. They have paid millions of dollars to settle child molestation claims. A pedophile is a person with a very immature sexual development who prefers children as sexual partners. Pedophilia is a despicable crime and it's against the law. A gay man or woman are NOT pedophiles. But I'll let you do your own research. I'm kind of tired of trying to convince people.

     The BSA ought to offer a new merit badge in tightrope walking. They're trying to make everybody happy with their latest appeasement which will include gay scouts, but not gay leaders. Excuse me? How does this make any sense at all? Do you know any scouts working on an "I'm gay and I want to tell the world" merit badge? Not likely. In fact, it's not likely that most of those young scouts even know they're gay yet and if they have any inkling whatsoever, they're scared and confused. They won't be into 'confessing' it around the campfire anytime soon.

     Which brings us to the problem. Little 'Timmy' is a good scout. He's diligent and prepared. He earns the required merit badges and he becomes an Eagle Scout. He grows up, becomes involved in scouting as a leader, and then the realization hits him. Tim is gay. Under the new BSA proposal, Tim will be excused from scouting. He's no longer welcome.  How exactly is that going to work? Who wants to tell Tim, the Eagle Scout, that he's a deviant and he can't be trusted any longer in the BSA program? Do you? Do you? Or maybe you? Not me. Not ever me. Because I understand the difference between a pedophile and a gay person and I would have trusted a gay person with both of my Eagle Scout sons. How is a person's sexual orientation any of my business? I just want that scout leader to lead my sons out of the forest safely.

     The BSA's wishy-washy position has definitely demonstrated some awesome skills in knot tying. I'm thinking the corporate sponsorships the BSA relies upon won't be backing the 'compromise' anytime soon and Church groups aren't going to be too happy, either. That's called  'Gordian' knot. Which ever way the BSA floats its canoe, it's rough rapids ahead.

     A scout is kind. Remember that. A scout is kind.

    

    

    

    

    

"A City Upon A Hill"

     In 1630, while still aboard a ship in Boston Harbor, the Puritan, John Winthrop, gave a church sermon. He reminded his fellow colonists that their new home ought to be modeled as a "city upon a hill", watched by the entire world.

     This week, just a few miles from Boston Harbor, a horrific act of violence was perpetrated on innocent people. Among the dead was an eight-year old boy. Just weeks ago, this little gap-toothed boy, in a tender photograph, held a hand-lettered sign of his own artwork. It read simply, "Peace".  The sign was his personal eulogy to the dead children and teachers of Sandy Hook Elementary.

     Today, in a most memorable act of cowardice, the United States Senate rebuffed reasonable, sensible efforts to pass legislation that would have begun moving us forward in the effort to curb the violence that clutches at our throats on a near daily basis. The Senate's arrogance is breathtaking. Ninety percent of Americans are in favor of some form of gun control legislation.

     What must John Winthrop be thinking of his "city on a hill"? Is the world still watching? If they are, what do they see?

     Today, nearly 400 years after Winthrop's sermon aboard the Arabella, our children are no longer safe at school, in theaters, at malls, or at athletic events. Evil permeates our 'city on a hill' from every direction. Troubled husbands shoot their wives and children, young adults gun down one another in our streets. The 'city' has become a blood-soaked, blood-thirsty, revenge-seeking cesspool of cold, cold hearts.

     Many have decided that the best way to fight violence is to respond with "an eye for an eye".  They will arm themselves with even more weapons. They will bathe their fears in paranoia. They will ignore the suffering and grief of our neighbors.  They will publicly carry their weapons and threaten to kill anyone who questions their value system. They have forgotten that our commission, as John Winthrop understood it so well, is to be a "city on a hill".

     Winthrop's hopes and dreams were that by escaping the old world already overcome with cruelty, we would become a different kind of nation and a different kind of people. Our 'better selves' would be guided by principles of compassion, kindness, and love for our neighbors. Winthrop saw the founding of America as a rare opportunity in a new world to create a new Country founded on eternal principles.

     Sadly, the lights of our 'city on a hill' are dimming. We cannot let them go out entirely. On Monday, amid the confusion and the fear of the Boston Marathon bombings, people were filmed running TOWARD the explosions. They had no idea if their lives were still in danger or not. People already in the first aid tents were seen ripping out their IVs in order to make room for the seriously wounded. As long as we have those people in our midst, there is hope that our 'city' may once again shine brightly.

     Perhaps our United States Congress was watching those unselfish acts of courage and brotherly love. They needed that courage today. Sadly, for today at least, the lights of Congress went dark.