Finding My Way (Or Trying To...)

So, as I write this, I am now officially without a job. I haven't been without a job since I was a teenager, and frankly, I don't like it very much. I'm not the kind of person who is eager to retire: I actually enjoy working. In fact, my professional life has long been a major part of who I am as a person. Whether I was a deejay, or a music director, or a radio consultant, or when I reinvented myself and became a college professor, these things all helped to define my identity. In radio, I was that person making a difference for my audience by playing the songs they liked; and I was the friendly voice they heard when they tuned to their favorite station. Later, as an educator, I was that person making a difference for my students by teaching them, mentoring them, and training them. I not only taught whatever the subject was, but I also taught critical thinking, and respect for differing points of view. And I ran the school newspaper: some of my student interns went on to get good jobs in media.  

And then, the university where I worked decided to get rid of a bunch of us, in a move that was ostensibly about budget-cuts. These things happen. I understand that. During my years in radio, I was fired on several occasions-- stations changed ownership, and the new folks wanted to bring in their own people. In this case, there has been a budget crunch and the administration believed that firing more than two dozen professors was a way to save some money. But knowing the reason (whether I agreed with it or not) didn't make it any easier. The bottom line is I'm now unemployed, and that's not something I was planning on, nor something I was looking forward to.

I don't know about you, but I function best when I know where I'm supposed to be and what I'm expected to do. Thus, not knowing what the next thing is for me is very disconcerting. It's also very worrisome, given that, as I've mentioned in previous blogs, I'm 77. Still young and cute, still active, still energetic, but 77. I sincerely don't know if other companies are going to see me as someone with a lot to offer-- someone with many accomplishments who still has much more she can achieve. My fear is that they'll see me as someone who might require a higher salary, or someone who is (gasp) too old, and they will simply gravitate towards folks who are younger.    

A couple of weeks ago, a student of mine told me that someone on Reddit had posted an old photo of me, the one in the studios at Northeastern in 1968, when I became their first female deejay. I'm rarely on Reddit, but I went to check out the site and thank whoever had posted the photo. And while I was there, I found a Rush fan group. I'm not a member of many fan groups (no time, usually), but I saw a post that I thought I could contribute to, and so I joined. Needless to say, some folks didn't think it was really me, but once they realized that it was, we had a nice conversation. It took my mind off of how I was feeling, and that was very helpful.

But the experience reminded me of how grateful I am to the folks I chat with online-- whether it's the people I play Wordle with on Twitter (I refuse to call it X, and I know I'm not alone), or the educators I help to support through charities like Donors Choose, or the fans who respond when I post something about Rush, or those who respond when I post something about politics, or media, or baseball-- and yes, that includes everyone who reads my blog. I have no idea what is going to happen next for me, and that isn't easy to deal with. But I feel a lot better knowing there are people online (some of whom I've never even met) who reach out to me on a regular basis. In difficult times, in insecure times, in times when nothing seems to make sense, I know I'm not going through it alone. I've said this before, but it needs to be said again: to all of you who are part of my extended online community, I appreciate you more than I can put into words.

The Fifties Are Calling (and I Don't Want to Answer)

I still fondly recall the day thirteen years ago this month when I got my PhD, at age 64. (Some folks had said I'd never do it, that I was "too old," but I showed them!) Meanwhile, around this time of year, undergraduate students are eagerly awaiting their turn to walk across the stage and get their diploma. Some graduations feature a famous commencement speaker, while others do not. Depending on the era, the speaker might be greeted with protests and boos, or greeted with cheers and applause. I got my BA in 1969, during the Vietnam War era, but to be honest, I don't recall who the commencement speaker was. Nor did many of my social media friends recall who theirs was: commencements can be very long, and the focus for a lot of people is getting that degree and going home. (In the end, I called the college library at Northeastern University, and they located the name: it was then-senator Ed Muskie. But I'd be lying if I said I remember it.)  

I do remember how excited I was to get my degree-- I was the first woman in my family to get one, at a time when women's career options were slowly expanding. I was still told to be a teacher, or a nurse, or a secretary; but I wanted a broadcasting career, and I fought for the right to have one. As many of you know, I spent four decades in radio. Along the way, I introduced the listeners to lots of new artists (including a certain Canadian rock band named Rush), I met some major celebrities, and I saw some amazing concerts. Unfortunately, I never got equal pay with men, nor did I always get equal respect. That was a common experience for women in the 60s and 70s: many guys were still not pleased that society was changing, and they made their displeasure known by treating us dismissively, or patronizing us, or just being rude. It took time, but I'd like to believe I earned the respect of the majority of the men I worked with. I'm still in touch with some of them to this day.

So, imagine my surprise when I heard about the commencement address that pro-football player Harrison Butker gave at Benedictine College recently, the one where he told the young women in attendance that they had been sold a "diabolical lie" about feminism, that a woman's true vocation is being a wife and mother and supporting her husband's goals, and that his wife Isabelle only achieved real happiness when she abandoned her dream of a career and embraced her God-given role as a homemaker; in fact, he said that was when "her life truly started," because she accepted what "God's will" was for her life. He also encouraged the male graduates to be "unapologetic in your masculinity," because, he said, it is men whose job it is to "set the tone of the culture."

I had to look at my calendar to make sure it was still 2024, rather than, perhaps, 1954. Okay fine, everyone has the right to their opinion, even one that some folks might regard as controversial. And I am in no way opposed to women being housewives or moms: these are noble professions, and having a career outside the home is not the right choice for everyone. But that's my point-- it should be a choice. From the talk Butker gave, I doubt that his wife really chose; he expected her to be a traditional homemaker, his interpretation of Christianity said that this was God's will, she agreed with what he said (as a good wife should), and that was the end of it. Since I don't know either of them, I don't know if she is as happy as he told the audience she was. I also don't know whether his advice was well-received by the young women in the audience, the ones he basically told that their degrees didn't matter, and that in God's eyes, they were future sinners unless they rejected feminism, and rejected any career other than housewife.   

When I was growing up, that's what the culture's message was to women. My mother wasn't allowed to go to college because the common wisdom was that "girls don't need a college education; they just need a husband." And having a career was presented as an "either-or": either you have a career or you marry and have kids. But you couldn't do both. Then, gradually, society changed, and these days, you can. However, some folks evidently miss those "good old days" when the men went out to work, and then came home and watched TV, while the women cooked and cleaned and raised the kids. I remember those days: while my father helped my mother with some of the household chores (something few men of that era did), I was always told that he was "the head of the house." I had no idea what that meant, but it didn't sound fair, or equal, to me. My mother accepted it, of course, but I often wondered if she ever wished she'd been allowed to go to college, or if she wished her life had given her more options.

I'm glad I had the opportunities my mother did not. I'm glad that I was able to have the career I wanted. And yes, I did get married-- a lot of folks from the music industry and radio attended my wedding, and one of the photos ended up in Billboard magazine. But it worries me that there are some men who believe they know what God wants for women, or who believe it was a better world when men ruled and women obeyed (cheerfully, of course). Frankly, I don't think either men or women should "rule." I think they should be partners and friends, and work together to make the world a better place. And in this graduation season, I do hope we can give female graduates a better message than "be a homemaker, because God said so." I used to be a chaplain, and I think I know my scriptures, and the Bible contains stories of women who held a wide range of roles in their society: wives and mothers yes, but also judges, prophets, teachers, and businesswomen. So, congratulations to all the graduates: may you find the right path for you, whatever it is. And may you continue to have many options-- including the right to choose what your future holds.