Any guy who tells you Adam’s descendants are inherently superior to Eve’s is one of two things: drunk or delusional. Or both. C’mon, man. How much more proof do we need that it just ain’t the case.
Brawn never has impressed me nearly as much as brains. Speaking of which, did you know 70 percent of U.S. high-school valedictorians are girls?
From Susan B. Anthony to Rosa Parks to Ruth Bader Ginsburg, every so often we’re reminded anew of fearless female fortitude in the face of male insecurity and fear, which can come clumsily cloaked in unbridled, and at times immoral, arrogance.
When universal suffrage was codified by the 19th Amendment – a scant century-and-a-half after the birth of America — it wasn’t because men magnanimously bequeathed that sacred right to the gender who birthed them. It was because women, who had had enough of inequity, wrenched the right by sheer force of will and wit.
In 1987, March was designated Women’s History Month as a tribute, but its creation also evokes societal guilt about their malign treatment since time immemorial. A special month of recognition is nice, but it shouldn’t be necessary. The tribute should be ever-present in our souls, woven into our fleshly fabric.
I’m reminded every day, by the presence of my wife Elyse and daughter Eliss, how fortunate I am to bask in their womanly warmth and light. It is a gift.
I never got to grow up in the presence of my mother. A catastrophic aneurysm blind-sided our family in a flash, taking her when I was nine years old. Yet I feel her beatific spirit inside me. And I know that I am stronger for it.