I was raised in an era where women yakked on the phone with their neighbors while smoking and feeding their latest baby, who bawled in a rickety high chair. They talked about men and clothes and food and kids and rooted for the bra burning women on the news. Then they hung up the phone and went back to scrubbing dishes and floors and dirty kids.
I lived in an era that was changing for the better for women. As all revolutions go, it takes time.
But, I wanted to be better than men, not the same. Does that sound egotistical? Perhaps. But, I realized, I don't want to be a man. I just want to be treated with respect and have the same opportunities as men.
It never meant that I want to go into combat and kill someone I don't even know- aim a weapon at another human being simply because men in suits decided it was the best thing to do. I am too old to go to war, but, I know I would never have picked up a gun and aimed it at the so-called enemy. Never.
I also came from the era where students volunteered their time in Veterans hospitals. I saw what men and women (nurses) looked like after coming home (they never really came back) from the reality, the savage reality of seeing dead children, men and women- limbs and torsos blown across the landscape.
Allowing women into combat situations is not equality. It's resorting back to old and barbaric times.
We haven't come so far, after all.
Pondering Life There is no discipline here, no need to wear a uniform. Just a girl with a blog, who's kind of weird and tries to understand what makes the world go round.
