In 1973 I landed a great job. I was hired to work for a major publisher to travel through a large sales territory to sell college textbooks to professors in universities and junior colleges. It was the early days of the Women’s Movement and Equal Opportunity Employment. I was the first woman in Texas, and one of a handful of women nationwide to do this.
My male competitors said they were worried I’d get easy sales because I was female. I considered that an insult to professors and to me. I told them, “If I don’t know my books and how to discuss them, I won’t get the business. It’s same as you.”
Other things about being female became apparent over the next few years. I couldn’t get good service in restaurants, not even chain restaurants, because “women don’t tip.” So I started warming up food on a hotplate in my motel room.
Many motels were hesitant to give me a room for five straight nights, so I began showing my business card so they wouldn’t think I was staying there to “set up shop.”
One hotel valet called my room when he got off work to see if I wanted to go out. I politely turned him down, but the second night he called I told him if he called again, I’d have his job. That worked.
I was 24 years old and a marriage behind me when one provincial professor asked me “What does your daddy think about your being on the road this way?” I told him my father was glad to see me successfully out on my own. End of discussion.
Tired of having to carry a lot of cash on my trips, I applied for a credit card. By then I had a nice savings account, a company car, a decent salary (though lower than my male counterparts’) and good benefits. I was given a list of requirements to qualify for a card and I checked off the ones I fulfilled, which was most of them.
I was turned down and given another list with even more qualifications, including having the same job for five years. So I put on a business suit and visited my bank manager, who could easily search my checking and savings accounts, but he turned me down.
Four years later I got a credit card when my new husband co-signed for me.
I went on to have a 25-year career with lots of successes. Things got better for the women in the publishing business, but still there were obstacles to overcome. I never forgot the trails I had to blaze for the women who followed me. The pain and outrage remain to this day.
Why am I telling you all this? Because the overturning of Roe v. Wade abortion rights brings it all back. There has been a great deal written about overturning Roe, and how it will affect so many women’s lives. But here’s the bottom line truth: That decision is the patriarchy saying “You can’t.” You. Can’t.
The Supreme Court decision to allow the states to make their own laws about women’s choice in this personal matter, and the immediate piling on of many state legislatures, is not solely about women’s choice regarding abortion. It’s about all women’s rights plain and simple, telling women what’s right for them, and carrying it to the extreme.
Is there a control over women more profound than forcing them to carry a child they can’t afford, is the product of rape or incest, could endanger their lives, or is a child the woman is not prepared for at that time in her life?
Utah Rep. John Curtis, during his recent candidate debate with Glenn Wright, said, regarding the dominance of men in the Utah Legislature making abortion law, “I wish, as a man, I didn’t have to make this decision.”
Guess what? You don’t. Women do not need the patriarchy making decisions for them about their futures.
They do not need patriarchal bank managers unilaterally deciding if they’re worthy of a credit card, nor do patriarchal men need to wonder what my daddy would think of the kind of job I have. Grown women can handle their own business, and it is not anyone else’s to control. If we need help, we’ll let you know.
Meanwhile, the so-called benevolent patriarchy needs to become a thing of the past, and the upcoming election can provide that much-needed remedy.
Caralee Woods lives in Kane County, where she is interested in observing local politics and the wide variety of birds that frequent her bird feeder.