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WHISTLE BLOWER | POLITICAL OPINION
The Sky Really Is Falling!
Pshaw! That’ll never happen
When I was in school I had to wear dresses. Pants weren’t allowed, and the dress was to be no higher than two inches above my knees.
When I wanted to take Shop in high school I was laughed out of the Principal’s Office.
When I was 18, employed full-time, making plenty of money working for the United States Army, my father had to cosign for my car.
When I was 19 and got pregnant, there was no choice.
When I was 20 and a single parent, my father had to cosign for my apartment.
When I was 21 I wasn’t hired because married women came with baggage; you know, daycare, sick kids, another pregnancy… a risky hire.
When I was 22 I had to gather enough evidence to divorce my abusive husband: bruises and broken bones. Fun times.
When I was 23 and my boss ogled my breasts as I walked past, or patted me on the ass, I didn’t even blink. I was a risky hire.
Women protested, fought back; we marched in the streets, burned our bras, demanded better pay.
Hard-won gains included bodily autonomy, purchasing power, no-fault divorce, and better pay. Girls were taking…
