Feministin am Rande des Nervenzusammenbruchs

I'm afraid I may have caused a disturbance in Betty Friedan's grave recently. I let ignorance run rampant in my classroom. I left at the break, claiming I couldn't stand listening to it anymore. Although that was true, the larger reason for my departure was the fact that I was ashamed.

I was ashamed that I let a 20-something man say America needed a "men's movement" without saying anything in response. A woman in her late 30s said the women's movement had splintered because feminists were too unwilling to concede anything in their fight; I let that pass, too.

I sat there while more 20-something men spoke with apparent authority that the movement failed because its leaders had been unable to deny their biological clocks.

And I sat there as a young woman asked, "Well, what is there left to fight for?"

I was speechless. I didn't know where to start or whom to start with. The verbal volleys just kept coming, and I couldn't formulate anything in the moment but an emotional, sputtering response.

So fassungslos müssen die Professoren 1968 über den beharrlichen Widerspruch der nachrückenden Generation gewesen sein. Weiter geht es mit dem Artikel hier.