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Joe Biden Hugs and Kisses. My Generation Yawns
Your generation hates us for it
This is a tough one for me, because I sincerely love the fierce courage of the women of the generations after mine. I’m from a generation so far back it doesn’t have a name. I was a teenager in the Fifties. Those “Happy Days” that weren’t.
Those days when sexual predation in its many forms was a given; something every one of us, as girls, as women, knew not only that we had to guard against but would have to endure. It came at us every day in every way, from wolf whistles, to lewd comments, to copping feels, to outright assault.
We were seen as objects, as Domestic Goddesses (or “domestics” for short), as lesser human beings because we weren’t as strong, we weren’t as smart, because we had wombs that could explode into babies at any inopportune moment.
We were never seen as equals.
I didn’t spend the years between then and now oblivious to the sexual revolution — I welcomed it — but because of who I was and the generation I came from, I looked at it with different eyes.
I was a charter subscriber to MS Magazine and loved that it was there doing what it was doing, but I didn’t buy their constant burning rage. I tried to understand it, but for the most part I was watching from the…
