Open Letter to My Daughters and Nieces:
I owe you all an apology. When you were babies, we told you that you could grow up to be anything you wanted. When Daughter #3 said she wanted to be a Zamboni driver, I assured her that she could be the greatest one ever. I just didn’t mention to her that the odds are good she’d be driving that Zamboni unpaid 133 days per year—to make up for making only about 2/3 of the pay of the average man doing a similar job.
Back when my generation tooled up to University on our dinosaurs, we had it all figured out. We had the vote, so we controlled our political future. We had the Pill and Roe V Wade, so we controlled our reproductive rights. We’d never heard of Aids, nobody marched for breast cancer, and penicillin cured STDs, so we would live forever. We were going to…
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