By Anna 

It started out with one day, March 8, and blossomed into a month of feminist misery.  womenshistory

Segregating a month out of the year as an excuse for public (and private) schools to talk specifically about what women have done in the world’s history is objectifying.  The pontification of Walt Whitman in “Song of Myself” is feministic.  He is “maternal as well as paternal” because he understands the equality due to all.

Though I respect the goal (and agree that women’s roles should not be ignored) of minister and teacher of women’s history, Jone Johnson Lewis, in the “hope that the day will soon come when it’s impossible to teach or learn history without remembering these [women’s] contributions,” it won’t be possible if the majority of U.S. history teachers are white men.

Throw us a bone so that we will sit in silence like we did when the drafters of the constitution left us out, or when we patiently waited to vote or when we opened our vaginas to life and disease (infections, monthly shedding of our vaginal walls, etc…) and yet we are given one month.  As if the white male majority in Congress needed merely to shut up the bitching wife, who demanded she be heard.

In the words of matriarch Margaret Fuller, “inward and outward freedom for woman as much as for man shall be acknowledged as a right, not yielded as a concession.”

When one month gives me equal pay, gives me respect in coed sports, gives my husband paternity leave (which some jobs allow, though it is not law like in Spain), gives me equal opportunity to education (only 23 percent of women complete a bachelor’s, whereas 27 percent of men do), keeps me above the poverty line, gives me equality in the church and gives me the White House, I will stop this rant.  One month isn’t justifiable; it’s offensive and pejorative.