The kinder, gentler world we knew once…

This is what the world looked like in the 1970’s.  You’ll notice that the brotha’s and the sistah’s and the brothers and the sisters and the hermanos and hermanas are all dancing together.  This is the moment when Second Wave feminism came to my Junior High.  Just like Caroline Kennedy’s.  I can’t imagine that it was any different back east than it was out here, no?

It was also the time of a convergence of various movements.  Black Power, Chicano Power and Feminism.

Girls weren’t allowed to wear pants to school then, did you know that?  We had to fight for that right by petitioning our schools.  We won.  We wore embroidered Levi’s that we made ourselves, not the fake jeans you see now with machine embroidery.  Our older sisters were working on Roe v. Wade.  Remember?

I don’t want to hear any lies about how we all didn’t dance together once, because we did.

Santana, Al Green, Barry White, Aretha, Chicago?

Here is what is wrong with this particular election.  All these groups who once were brothers and sisters, all these groups who once danced together have fractured apart.

It disgusts me to hear Hillary Clinton accused of “pimping” her daughter Chelsea on TV.  Sickens me.

It’s just as bad to read this, from “Something Within” about Maya Angelou being called a “ho.”

http://www.somethingwithin.com/blog/?cat=58

You’ll really want to read to the last paragraph, because that’s my question too.

What a disgusting culture we live in now, isn’t it?  I never thought I’d see the day that “racism” would rear its head again, but that day is here.  I’m seeing it towards white people, black people and worst of all Latinos.  I never thought I’d see the day in this country that people were going to be deported.

We live in times of utter cruelty and vulgarity.  Can you imagine what the rest of the world thinks of us?

The reason that I want Hillary Clinton to win is because I know she remembers the better, gentler times that used to be.  She remembers the fight to even be able to wear pants and the struggles of women of all colors.  That’s probably why she said “I’ll wear the pantsuits…” once she is the president.  Like me, she is going to understand the complexity of all the issues at hand because we are women, and we think differently.  Not like some cheap male newscaster trying to bash her daughter down in a thinly veiled attempt to hurt Hillary.

Today in the Los Angeles Times there is an op-ed by Meghan Daum called “Chelsea’s rant control.”

A worthier read is Robin Morgan’s essay which you can find here at womenspace in wordpress.

http://womensspace.wordpress.com/2008/02/03/good-bye-to-all-that-part-ii-by-robin-morgan/

or here, from the Women’s Media Center.

http://www.womensmediacenter.com/ex/020108.html

In the days of the picture above people thought about how they could help others.  They had a slogan then, and it was “Power to the People” — this meant all people.  That’s why their hands are raised.  That’s the gesture that they made then.

Which candidate cares more about the people as a whole?  I think that’s Hillary Clinton.  She does have a proven record, doesn’t she? We should be very proud of both Hillary Clinton and her daughter Chelsea right now.  We should be proud of who we were as tail end Baby Boomers, who knew how to dance together once.

If you want to know about feminism, watch the film “Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants.”

That is a great way to learn about Second-Wave feminists.  Heterosexual feminists.  My generation got married, got divorced, raised children alone, suffered domestic violence, had abortions.  Unlike the Third-Wave, we didn’t believe in stripping to pay our way through college.  Most of us would have shuddered at that thought.

Little sisters, you have a long, long way to go.  You’ll find out.  But know, you always have bigger sisters watching.  There are a lot of us right now, and we come in all different colors.

I’ll bet you are going to see the Second-Wave start stepping forth about now.  We have a lot to say.

It’s just sad how we splintered isn’t it?  Remember what you fought for, once.

Remember when we could call ourselves friends.