Ladies of a Certain Age ~ for those invisible powerful, dynamic, vital women

Small, diminutive, petite, US Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Gingsburg doesn’t strike me as a woman who burned her bra back in the 60s and 70s, demanding equality.

But, watching the 2018 movie RBG as I sat on my couch with tears streaming down my face, it dawned on me how much I owe this woman my gratitude for what she has done for me and all Americans.

Since she fights for gender equality, I feel we all owe her our respect.   Personally, I would like to see her face on a $100 bill!

The tears came, the memories came, and the concern came.

The tears were for me and a host of American women who never had the constitutional right for equality in this country prior to Ruth Bader Ginsburg and the millions of women who did burn their bras, demanding fairness and recognition.

Suddenly sitting on my couch, I was propelled back in time to 1981. I learned that day a man was killed when the heavy equipment he was driving careened off a mountainside, just 40-miles from my home. He was working for the Union Oil Shale project near Parachute, Colorado. My former husband, and the father of my three children, then age 7, 9 and 11, was frequently on that project. Actually, almost every day he was at some construction or mining site because he sold heavy equipment.

I will never forget the terror of that day.  I was standing in my living room thinking if that man had been my husband what I would do. How would I take care of these kids? Thank goodness, I did have a job, which required the MBA I had by then; but, it was not enough.  I knew what my first steps had to be. Get a credit card in my name. Get my name on the accounts of the utility companies – sewer, electric, gas and water. Get my name on the checking and savings accounts. Make sure my name was on the house mortgage.

You see, back then, women were just being allowed to have their name, along with their husbands, on these things. Ladies, that was less than 40 years ago!

It occurred to me my married daughters, who are approaching age 50, and my teenage granddaughters and grandsons, do not know how hard it was for a woman to be recognized as an adult. I wanted to call them and say, “Please watch RBG with your children.” I think their response would have been a disgusting, “Oh, Mother!”

I looked back on my life and noted a few common occurrences I wonder if they know about. Without recognizing these, how can they appreciate their independence?

I was not allowed to wear pants to school, except when it was snowing or very, very cold. Then, I would wear wool pants to school, but had to take them off before class.

I was required to take home economics and sewing and was not allowed to take shop.

I could not participate on any high school sports teams because there were none for girls.

I could not be a caddy at a golf course, because only boys were allowed.

When I graduated with a BS degree in marketing from the University of Colorado, I brushed up on my typing and shorthand skills to get secretarial positions, the only jobs as a woman, I was qualified for.

When I wanted to change jobs, I had to look in the “Help Wanted Section for Women” in the classified section of the Sunday newspaper.

So, on this day of celebrating our freedom, July 4, I say “Ladies, we have much to celebrate!”

But, here’s a couple of zingers –cherry bombs, if you will. First, we have to keep fighting for our rights as we age. What that means as ladies-of-a-certain-age is to stand up to the prejudice, injustice, intolerance and discrimination of older women in America. We have as much value as anyone and as much right to be here.   I say don’t placate me, don’t negate me, don’t ignore me like you have done to the millions of older American women before me. The second one is just because we are ladies-of-a-certain-age doesn’t mean we get to ignore our muscles and bones and bodies. I had to face the fact that if Ruth Bader Ginsburg was working out, I had no excuse not to.

Copyright – Elizabeth J. Wheeler, July, 2019