Hear Me Roar

When I was a young girl my mom would make me and my sister help her make our brothers’ beds after she had washed the sheets. It was easier for us to climb up on the top bunk and the boys were nowhere to be found. I thought it was a travesty that the girls in the house were expected to make the beds of three capable boys. I was mad the entire time and would ask when the boys ever helped make our beds (never). Mom just wanted the job done and told me to stop my complaining and get on with it. In 1972 when I Am Woman by Helen Reddy was released, I was the ripe old age of 15 and instantly knew that I had heard my call to arms. I grew up on that song and so did my outrage at what women had to contend with on a daily basis. When I got my first adult job in Chicago I remember arguing with my dad and brother at the dinner table about the fact that the office secretary was like a mother to every man in the office – reminding them of appointments, to bring their umbrella, that the report was…