Skip to main content

Reimagining feminism: Lest we forget



In the 1970s, Ottawa Journal women's editor Betty Sarsfield led a protest in front of the newly-minted National Press Club of Canada in Ottawa.

She and fellow women journalists picketed outside the press club because women -- still -- were not allowed to be members. They could be signed in and drink, eat, dance and play with the boys, but they couldn't be card carrying members of the club.

I was shocked when Betty told me the story when I arrived on the scene in the late 70s.

As a child of the Sixties, I had been hand raised on feminism ideals. I knew the feminist mantras by rote. I embraced the romance of it all. I became a true believer.

Obviously, I was living in a dream world created by Mad Men.

"You've come a long way, baby," the television screamed while women in bouffant hairstyles smoked their own elegant cigarettes.

Women on my television were burning their bras, taking pharmaceuticals to make still their babymakers and shedding their garter belts for panty hose.

So why shouldn't I have expected an emancipated world for women working on Parliament Hill?

We could do anything, couldn't we?

But as Betty Sarsfied discovered, there is real and there is Memorex.

Here in Ottawa, it was still an old boys club.

Parliamentary Hill was being run like Hef's Playboy Club. Women were still secretaries who picked up the booze and the laundry on their lunch hours while the boys had three martini lunches.

The world had not changed. Only the rhetoric.

I was reminded of this yesterday when I asked my Facebook community whether feminism had changed their lives. I was following up on a blog I wrote a few months back about Gloria Steinem, in which I mused that feminism really hadn't changed my life all that much.

My point was that, for many of us, we had our consciousness raised only to have it shattered on the rocks of life. We were simply little boats fighting against a tide.

It's a personal view, and I wasn't sure if anyone shared it.

But obviously, I had hit a nerve.

This week, my post went viral, with thousands of hits. Where were these readers coming from? I didn't know if the readers liked the post or not, so I wanted to find out for myself.

I went to the Facebook court of opinion, to the friends and colleagues who had much to say about feminism, and life on Parliament Hill in the old days.

Here's what Christine Hearn, a former Parliament Hill television journalist, had to say.

If we hadn't fought like hell, there would still be very few women in journalism, law, etc. I'm just that much older than you that I remember when women were tolerated in the Press Gallery.

There were only eight women out of about 220 members when I got there. There was always one woman on the executive, no more. I ran for President and lost to Senator Jim (Munson) by two votes.

There had never been an elected female president. Marjorie Nichols took over as president after someone died. There's still a long way to go, especially in politics, but I think we sometimes forget how hard we had to fight in the early 70s to get any respect at all.

Remember...When you applied for a job and were asked if you were on birth control so you wouldn't get pregnant? When the floor director routinely made raunchy comments while counting down to air? And many of the politicians were very free with hugs and pats and inappropriate comments.

Suzanne, a former NDP staffer:

Remember when the women's washroom at the press club was the janitorial closet by the elevator?

Remember when there was a cat-house functioning on the hill, run by MPs of different parties?

Remember MPs and Hill officials hiring their girlfriends, firing staffers to make room? Remember having to wear girdles so as to not jiggle and excite the weaker sex?

Remember when getting married meant you had to quit working? When getting pregnant lost you your job?

Seriously, anyone over fifty could not forget how feminism made a difference. We need a motto like in keeping with the sentiments expressed by our veterans, "Lest We Forget".

I suppose we can say that we've come a long way since I bought my first NDP t-shirt which read: "A woman's place is in the House of Commons."

The numbers don't lie. We've come a long way from low angle ass shots of Iona Campagnolo jogging on Parliament Hill. Even in Prime Minister Harper's conservative and patriarchal government, there are a handful of powerful women. Women have been speakers of both the House and the Senate, they have been governors-general and lieutenant-governors. Not to mention, chief justice of the Supreme Court.

Today, there are lots of deputy and assistant deputy ministers who are women, band leaders in the aboriginal community, union leaders and news anchors. Even the National Press Club Foundation has a woman as president --nearly forty years after Betty and her merry band became squeaky wheels.

Successful and driven women have finally reached their paygrade.

But I also live in a neighborhood where two Muslim lovers were shot dead in a car in an honor killing. We have countless single mothers raising their children in poverty while men skip out on their obligations as husbands and fathers. We have a shameful record on the treatment of women and children freezing in the cold on reserves while the government reacts by sending in auditors instead of aid. And more women than ever work in ghetto jobs in this country.

Feminism has changed the world; there is no doubt and we should be forever grateful to the pioneers like Gloria Steinem and Betty Friedan in the U.S. as well as Doris Anderson, June Callwood and Judy Rebek here at home.

But feminism has done little to help the plight of average women who, because of circumstances, culture or bad choices, continue to live marginal lives in despair without hope and opportunity.

I'd say feminism changed the face of Parliament Hill in a very short period of time. But it will be decades, if ever, before its goals are realized for many women, here and around the world.

We just have to keep trying.

As Suzanne says: Lest we forget.

Feminism set the bar. We just have to figure out how to help more women reach it.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

What Bell isn't telling you about Fibe TV

Update: This week, we switched back to Rogers after spending far too long using Bell's crappy television service. For those with Bell, read and weep. For those considering Bell, think twice even if you hate Rogers. RS I've always been an early technology adapter. I had a Betamax. That tells you everything (if you're over 50 at least). My first computer was a "Portable". It weighed 40 pounds and I had to lug it around town on a gurney. I've been through probably 15 computers in my lifetime. Apple is the best. It's also too expensive so I have a piece of shit HP, the one I'm writing this blog on. I've had cable, internet and now Netflix. American Netflix . That's how far ahead of the curve I am. I get all the newspapers for free. How? I disabled my cookies so they can't track me when I'm on the newspaper sites. Even the New York Times hasn't cottoned on to that trick. Hahaha. That will be a fifty buck consulting fee. Bein...

Ashley Simpson: Please sign this petition to help her family

Those who read this space regularly know that my family is frantic with worry about my cousin, Ashley Simpson , who has been missing 40 days now. Both her boyfriend and her landlord reported that she had left with no money, no car, no resources from her Salmon Arm, B.C. home after a domestic dispute over money. Since then, there has been no trace of her. The RCMP now considers this a homicide investigation, but the family has not heard any updates from them in more than three weeks. Just after she disappeared, her father, relatives and friends set out from St. Catharines on a long trek to B.C. to find her. They all left their work, and their lives, intent on finding Ashley who had always kept in touch. It was completely out of character for her to lose touch. Her parents have been consumed by worry. They have been unable to work, and are having a hard time functioning. As a result, they are now relying on donations from family and friends to keep the wolf from the door...

The strange case of Greg Etue

I got out of the daily news reporting game, I'll admit, because I didn't have the stomach to cover the many sad stories that came across my desk. I remember clearly once when I had to call an RCMP sergeant after his young son blew his head off with the officer's service revolver. "Please," he pleaded. "I really can't talk right now." "It was your gun, is that correct?" He slammed down the receiver. I was ashamed of myself. People have a right to some privacy in difficult times like that. I also used to hate having to go to the door of a dead child's home and jostle the competition for a picture. Really, it felt more like ghoulism than journalism. That said, I still believe that these stories must be told in an honest and forthright fashion with all the facts and none of the flourish and emotion that is all the rage in reporting these days. Over the past two years, we, in this community, have been treated to a lot o...