newjerseynewsroom.com

BY SUSIE WILSON

NEWJERSEYNEWSROOM.COM

SEX MATTERS

Iconic feminist activist and writer Gloria Steinem will be in Princeton this Thursday, September 15, for a fundraiser to benefit the Planned Parenthood Association of the Mercer Area and Planned Parenthood Affiliates of New Jersey. Steinem has been a strong advocate of reproductive freedom as well as other social justice issues for the past 40-plus years.

I was surprised to learn that Steinem is making the rounds of Planned Parenthoods at age 76. Somehow she and the feminist movement—except for Ms. magazine, which I’d seen over the years—had slipped off my radar screen. I knew that the woman with her smoky aviator glasses and cloud of hair had written several best-selling books about the second-wave feminist revolution she ignited.

I concluded that the Congressional threat to Planned Parenthoods’ federal funding—on hold for now—had once more caused her extraordinary activist juices to flow for reproductive freedom. I applaud her decision to redouble her commitment and lend her celebrity in their behalf.

A friend’s words over lunch earlier this summer caused me to think more deeply about Steinem. I mentioned to the younger woman, a TV journalist I deeply respect, that the famous feminist activist was coming to town. Did she want to hear her speak? Without missing a beat, she leaned across her Greek salad and said,“Of course I’ll come: Gloria is a hero of mine.”

Her words startled me, and I found myself thinking: “Why didn’t I call Steinem a hero of mine? When did I miss the boat—and why?”

So I decided to watch the recent HBO documentary about Steinem, "Gloria in Her Own Words," because I had a lot of catching up to do on her life. The film made me wonder why I hadn’t followed Steinem eons ago, because her ideas are essential for women’s freedom and well-being. In self-defens—and in thinking back to the ’50s and ’60s when Steinem started making a name for herself—I was only listening to her with half a brain. While she was advocating for feminism—which she defines as “full social and economic and political equality for women with men”—I was engaged in supporting the work of other political and social leaders, such as Robert Kennedy and Marian Wright Edelman, who were fighting to reduce child and family poverty.

I’m not sure I even understood in my 20s and 30s what feminism was and how it applied to me. As I always say when explaining myself, I went to an all-girls school, an all-girls seven-sisters college (Vassar), and an all-girls camp. After college graduation, I got a good job in journalism. I thought I didn’t need feminism or a leader five years younger than myself. I guess I thought my world was pretty much my oyster.

I did have a friend on the magazine at which we both worked who kept asking why the male reporters were paid more than the female ones like us. I also realized that some of my college classmates with good credentials had ended up in the typing pools of major advertising agencies or large corporations. Still, I didn’t think their problems were mine.

I was quickly caught up in the first part of the Steinem documentary, when she says that women in the ’50s were expected to be “mothers and wives of executives.” Yes, I thought, that’s the message I came away with from college: Marriage is what is expected of me.

Steinem says that she agrees with Holly Golightly, the character played by Audrey Hepburn in the 1961 film Breakfast at Tiffany’s, who says about marriage, “You can’t live in captivity; people don’t belong to other people.” Later on, Steinem says, “We are becoming the men we want to marry.” (She did eventually marry. Sadly her husband died two years into their union.)

No one ever told me that I could combine marriage with a career. Had I been paying attention to Steinem, I might have felt more confident when I did marry far later than my peers. I really believed that being married and having children were the true definition of success for women of my generation, and Steinem showed me the wisdom of being skeptical about the stereotypical roles imposed on women.

Steinem also shares her views about abortion in the film. She is very direct about her own abortion, saying frankly, “I had an abortion at 22 ...Why, if one in three women needed an abortion, is it a secret, why is it criminal, and why is it dangerous?” At another point, she jokingly repeats the phrase, “If men could get pregnant, abortion would be a sacrament.”

I still cringe when I think that in 1973, when the Supreme Court handed down Roe v. Wade, legalizing abortion, I initially missed its impact and the ensuing battle that over the decision. I didn’t catch up with it until years later when I became involved in sex education and saw it as an opportunity to educate young women about their reproductive choices.

Steinem also takes on the charge that feminists are “angry women,” and that a woman who “aspires to do something is a ‘bitch.’” She explains that people who attack feminists usually refer to them in some negative sexual way: the suffragettes, she says, were attacked as “sexless,” and supporters of women’s liberation in the ’70s were accused of “penis envy.”

Yet some of what I considered extreme tactics used by the second-wave feminists of Steinem’s movement, such as so-called “bra burners” or women who forthrightly attacked mem, made me uncomfortable. I was brought up to keep my anger under control, and the idea of being an “angry woman” scared me.

I didn’t have the Steinem’s courage or her remarkably calm demeanor when handling personal attacks. One of the most difficult moments of the film was an excerpt from her 1990 appearance on Larry King Live. A caller told Steinem, “Your movement is a total failure, and you caused the downfall of our beautiful American family.” The caller added that she hoped Steinem would “rot in hell for what you started.”

“I learned early to use anger constructively,” Steinem told King, admitting that she was once too thin-skinned. Her anger led her to start Ms. Magazine, which the TV anchor Harry Reasoner predicted would be a failure. (To his chagrin, the first issue sold out in a week, and it continues to this day.)