is the title of this powerful and wonderful piece of writing by Pulitzer Prize winning columnist Connie Schultz, who, yes, also happens to be married to wonderful progressive Senator Sherrod Brown of Ohio.
She begins with her childhood, in a passage too beautifully written to excerpt, and then after setting the stage with that, offers this:
I grew up in a time when a woman who owned her own newsstand was famous because she was so rare. Aunt Louise was unmarried, which the grown-ups tirelessly pointed out as the reason she could do such a thing. What else did she have to live for?
I share this story from my childhood to illustrate just how long I've been waiting for something I could imagine at such a young age. There are so many women like me. We were born in a time when most of the country believed that white women should be sequestered at home, but we dared to believe we would grow up to be evidence to the contrary. I emphasize the privilege of our race because so many women of color never had the option to stay home.
Plenty of good people support Bernie Sanders, but his bullies are out of control. I am so over them. I no longer care when they accuse me of voting my gender. How interesting that they think there's something wrong with so many women who want, for the first time in history, to see themselves reflected in the most powerful person in the world.
What Schultz has to say to the “bullies” is of course equally applicable to another notable bully, the presumptive nominee of the other party, with the language he has used about women in general and how he has already tried to demean Hillary Clinton.
Schultz talks about her working-class roots, and is quite blunt about those who might say that her supporting Secretary Clinton makes her part of the “establishment” — a term I note that Senator Sanders used towards several important groups addressing women’s issues that chose to support Mrs. Clinton rather than him.
I note that most of the nastiness I have experienced on Facebook and on Twitter has come from males, most of whom are white, and most of whom are not that young. Since I am a white male of upper middle class background, with a good education and many choices in my life, some might think I have little grounds to push back.
And yet — I think of what my own mother went through to build her legal career, starting with prejudice against her for being the daughter of a Jewish immigrant mother, and including her being female in a profession that was still dominated by men.
I think of the talented mothers of my schoolmates, few of whom were in the 1950s and early 1960s able to fully use their gifts in professional careers, because society still did not fully accept that, despite how well educated and skilled they might be.
I think of the incredibly gifted women with whom I went to high school, some of whom had to fight to build their careers.
I think of some of the female students I have taught over the year who wondered what kind of role they could have in government, whether society was willing to accept them in roles most people thought of as male roles.
We now have women in Congress, but our female participation in the national legislature pales compared to that of other nations.
African-Americans rightly felt proud that Barack Obama was elected twice to this nation’s highest office. But it was not just African-Americans. Many of us old enough to remember the virulent racism against which American society had to strive during the 1950s and 1960s, and clearly in the recent campaigns and the current one, we are seeing how prevalent it still can be.
I look at Kentucky and West Virginia in Democratic primaries of 2008 and 2012 and note that in the earlier races a White woman was very much preferable to a Black man with that funny name. Now it seems any white man is preferable to a highly qualified woman — that is a comment not only about the primary but about the likely results in the general election in those two states.
So perhaps the writing by Schultz resonates with me because I have lived through now approaching the end of my 7th decade on Monday, and seen the changes — the inclusion of people of color, of women, of LGBT folks — that mark a major development, a maturing of our society.
Were Hillary Clinton not the most qualified person in either party to run this cycle, it might be a different story. But she is. She is one of the most qualified and prepared ever to seek our highest office.
Which makes the words of Connie Schultz really resonate for me.
So I will push fair use, and end as she does, with her three short paragraphs:
There was a time when I got worked up over those voices of superiority telling me who I am because I don't want what they do. I couldn't care less now. My roots are my legacy, and I don't owe anyone an apology or explanation for who I am.
When I was 11 years old, my dad told me a little girl could grow up to be president.
Forty-eight years later, I believe him.
Peace.