We All Turn Into Our Mothers

We all turn into our mothers.  There.  I’ve said it.  In a few days I will turn 70.  I hear mom coming out of my mouth more and more these days.  She’s been gone almost three years now and I sometimes stop and wonder if turning into her is a good thing or a bad thing.

Here’s what I know for sure.  I wouldn’t have been such an ardent feminist had she not pushed me starting at an early age.  There was never a question of whether I would go to college.  The choice of “where” I would go was up to me, but not “if” I would go.  I chose a college that had only recently started to accept women (Colgate).  I picked it because the male/female ratio was awesome….although it was interesting to sit front row center in classes and learn to deal with profs who said “good morning, gentlemen” to start the class…..  I never had a female professor in my four years there.  

Mom pushed my dad, a corporate executive in the satellite engineering industry, to hire a female Director (….a Black woman!) over the objections of his peers (Dad: She’s the best one for the job but the men who would report to her may have a problem.  Mom: That’s THEIR problem then, not yours.  Or hers.).  He promoted her….and this was in the late 60’s.  One of mom’s arguments was “What if she was your daughter? Would you want her excluded from the role because of her sex?”.  This pioneer, a Black female Director, did a great job, as we heard over dinner many times.  

When the company that hired me after college was found to be paying me 30% less than my male counterparts, mom pushed (and pushed and pushed) me to “do something…you have to do it for my granddaughter”.  She called me almost daily to give me the phone number for the EEOC.  At the time, I worked for the same company where dad was a senior executive.  I didn’t want to risk hurting his career but he told me to call the EEOC and “nail these people to the wall”.  Mom had turned him into a feminist, too!

So, turning into my mother means that I am a feminist.  That’s a good thing.  I am also not inclined to put up with political nonsense (thanks, mom….) or stupidity.  Are those good things?  The jury is still out, but I am who I am.  (With apologies to my daughter….it doesn’t bode well for you!)