It is possible women have been lied to all along; there is no such thing as a glass ceiling.
In the time since my grandmother’s birth in 1906, women were headbutting some force, that is for certain. We were allowed into the military, and shortly after, granted voting privileges. We were allowed to earn our own living, and we might yet one day be guaranteed equal pay to do so. We have fought – and continue to fight for autonomy over our own bodies. And in my life time, we have been allowed to open bank accounts and lines of credit without a man co-signing our debts and co-owning our assets.
Don’t tell me the ceiling is glass. It would have shattered years ago under the swell of women rising. It is granite and the first head to break through was never going to do it with lipstick straight and every hair in place. This is hard, dusty labor.
Early in the election cycle – when we were all still allowed to hope for better than what we’ve already had, I wanted a different kind of President. My chief complaint about Hillary was and still is that she is no different than any of the seven men who’ve occupied the oval office in my lifetime , or really, the 19 since my grandmother was born. Her scandals are no more egregious than Nixon’s, Carter’s or Reagan’s – to name a few. But her experience is greater than Coolidge, Hoover, FDR, JFK, GW Bush, or Obama – to name but a few more. I understand the philosophical difference of political opinion where Hillary Rodham Clinton is concerned, but I reject the fallacy that she is too corrupt and not experienced. All things being equal, scandal and experience would remain ignored in a male candidate. One need only look to her opponent’s own active investigations, trials, business failures, and lack of even the most basic civic knowledge for proof.
I stand by what I’ve taught my sons and daughters: gender is no reason to vote for a candidate. But on Wednesday, it is why we will be celebrating.