There is so much I want to say about Gloria Steinem—most of it personal. How SHE so largely shaped ME. How when I was the first and only female journalist in my first newsroom, I thought about her writing about her shaky voice and her shaking legs. Just like mine. Except I wasn’t undercover as a playboy bunny. I wasn’t required to show up for work nearly naked.
I was, however, also grabbed, pinched, made fun of, mocked, and underestimated. My all-time favorite experience happened after I had to cut a sportscast short to make room for major breaking news. That’s the time a former professional football player shoved me into a corner, yelled at me in front of all the people I managed, and then continuously hurled his fingers so hard into my chest my head repeatedly slammed into a wall, and I woke the next day bruised from the top of my collarbone to the bottom of my sternum.
He wasn’t even reprimanded. Today he’d be fired.
I thought a lot about her back then. She’s largely why I became a journalist. I read Ms. Magazine. Felt less alone.
While living in the West Indie,s I often reflected on her seminal piece she wrote about “first blacks, then women.” I followed the logic. It made sense at the time. This was long before we coined the term intersectionality.
While Cesar Chaves became the face of the United Farm Workers (UFW), I think it would be fair to say Gloria and UFW co-founder Dolores Huerta created the blueprint for it. Piggybacking women, blue collar workers, blacks, Asians, and other oppressed minorities on the back of what became one of the largest successful protest movements in history.
Gloria opened her home and her credit card. Delores united Philipino workers and Mexicans who, until that point, had been the major picket line crossers. Together they helped push through the five-year boycott that changed the working conditions of thousands of mostly migrant workers.
Interesting that a woman as strong as Delores, a 95 year old woman who to this day still protests unfair working conditions, kept a 60 year old secret about her own abuse BECAUSE she is female. It wasn’t until six months ago she publicly told the story of Chaves raping her. Twice!
No. Women’s rights are not second or third or fourth. We are members of all groups. Of all nationalities. Our struggles are theirs. And vice versa.
Gloria became an expert at raising multiple causes at once.
Men called her a lesbian to try and shut her up. She never denied it. Not once. Why? Because she said if she was it was nothing to be ashamed of. So why bother?
I had the great privilege and honor of meeting her more than once (and I use the word “meeting” loosely). The closest I ever got to her was sitting at the same table during the 1984 democratic convention. We were cold calling voters during some down time.
I was FUMING that she supported old man Mondale when fresh, young Jackson was CLEARLY going to become our nation’s first black president that year. (Anyone else remember being that young?)
At the same time, I sat slack-jawed, astonished that the now infamous Gloria Steinem was picking up a phone and asking total strangers to donate money, if they needed a ride to the polls, if there were any concerns they wanted the democratic party to address. (This is how I learned to ask for money without sounding like an asshole. More importantly, it taught me the need to ask those we serve what they need. What they really need and how we can help them.)
I went to several of her book signings, got to interview Rosa Parks at a convention Gloria attended but I was unable to chase her down. Same at the first Women’s March. I almost got to go on a lesbian cruise with her, but stupid covid ruined that. I never got to thank her face-to-face for her articles, her books, her speeches, and her actions that shaped my life.
I thought of her every time I needed to straighten my back. Everytime I needed to strengthen my voice. And every time I needed to soften it.
I thought of her every time I had the opportunity to mentor another woman. To help pull her up as Gloria preached. (I’ll be honest, this was not easy for me. I was in a competitive field with only so many “women slots.”) But I did it. With a twisted stomach and a smile. Another woman had done the same for me once and honestly, I would have followed her into war before I would have tried to take her job.
Gloria knew the secret. At our base, women are good. We are kind. We are smart. And we are tough as nails.
God I’m going to miss her.
Photo courtesy of social media
