Happy Birthday to Me!

I turned 49 long years old today. Which seems a lot closer to the big 5-0 then 48 seemed. Go figure. Fortunately, most of my fabulous women friends are older than me and rocking on, so I'm fine with the "old" age phenomenon.

An article in Ms. Magazines talks about the "fuck-you fifties" and says:

Thirty- seven million doses of what Margaret Mead named “postmenopausal zest” make quite a potent brew.

We older women still have a lot to do and there's a certain confidence in knowing that younger women are strong activists who not only don't need our guidance, but prefer to make their own plans, thank you very much!

Last Friday night I attended an event at the U of M to support efforts to organize a union for graduate student teachers and research assistants. It reminded me so much of my childhood. After her divorce, my Mom went to graduate school while raising three young children on her own. We were dirt poor and crammed into a tiny two-bedroom apartment. As kids, we didn't realize how bad it was. Although I am damn proud of her for toughing it out through some extremely difficult times, I don't wish that kind of life on anybody else. Going without food, clothing and health care for years at a time has lousy consequences. She took a job after finishing her coursework and before completing her dissertation because she was offered a job and was just "tired of being poor," as she tells it.

There is a culture of academia that makes it very hard to form a union. Even with all the shit my mother put up with, she still never considered herself a "worker. In fact, when I finally dropped out of college to pursue a career in the printing trades, she told me how worried she was. Her reason? She knew I was an extremely intelligent young woman and she couldn't see how I would be able to interact with intelligent people if I entered a skilled trade. Prejudiced? Sure! And wrong. But a telling example of how academics view the outside world as well as their own.

Pinko Feminist Hellcat has appointed her ministers and I am from now until forever the Minister of Ephemera. I love feminist "competition" -- you win by participating! Send your ephemera my way, in c/o Fly By Night, for your official stamp of approval!