Tag: Betty Friedan

For Ellie Greenwich, Who Really WAS Leader of the Pack, With Thanks

Ellie_GreenwichWhen our kids were little, we used to sing.  All the time.  And early on, many of the songs they loved were written by this woman:  Ellie Greenwich. She was a tough cookie I think.  She was also one of the great song writers of her generation.  Ever heard Be My Baby? (“Bee my, bee my bay bee, my one and only baybee…”)  Chapel of Love? (“Goin’ to the Cha pull and we’re gonna’ get ma a a reed”) River Deep, Mountain High ?(“Do I love you my oh my, river deep, mountain high” that was Tina Turner.)  Ever hear of girl groups?  Then you’ve heard of Ellie Greenwich.  There’s a reason she’s in the Song Writers Hall of Fame.  She died August 26, the same day as Senator Kennedy, so I’m a little late, but I have a lot to thank her for.

Freshman year we lived in a dorm with a big porch facing Seelye Hall, the main classroom building.  We’d put our stereo speakers in the windows over the porch and blasted  whatever we liked at the time, especially in the spring, as the snow melted and spirits rose.  One of our classics was “Leader of the Pack.”  All of us, the Gang of Four as we were then, could re relied upon, for no reason, to belt out “Hey there, where’d you meet him?”  to which another would reply (in song, of course, and I know you know this) “I met him at the candy stoh – ore.”   It sounds so silly, doesn’t it?  But it wasn’t.

The tribal music Greenwich gave us was alive with the spirit that was all of us, before the War tore everything apart, when we just had fun and our minds were full of ideas and ambitions, and songs, and romantic daydreams, and songs, and learning how to be grown ups (slowly) and songs.  And her songs were so universal, so full of a love of living and living for love – way before we even heard of our sister alums Gloria Steinem and Betty Friedan.  Somehow, as things became more serious, Doo Wa Diddy Diddy Dum Diddy Doo didn’t flow off the tongue so easily.  That’s why I was so glad when a Broadway musical, Leader of the Pack, opened in the 80’s and gave us another chance – and a great cast album, full of many of her greatest songs.

My own favorite is all tangled up in a memory.  It was a sunny fall day and my six-year-old and I were walking down a street someplace in the Village.  And we were arm-in-arm.  And our walk had a rhythm – right feet at the same time, left feet at the same time, just the two of us.   And the rhythm?  It came because, together, crossing the nearly 30 years between us, together, we were singing –Da Doo Ron Ron.”

Not quite this great, but not bad, either. So thanks Ellie. And the rest of you – see for yourselves.

BLOG AGAINST SEXISM DAY: CAN YOU BELIEVE WE STILL NEED TO DO THIS?

Superwoman_2 March 8 is Blog Against Sexism Day – and as I began thinking about what to write, this is what came out:

Once I met Betty Friedan – actually more than once – but the first time was at the 1967 National Student Association convention.  It was obviously a turbulent time: the Vietnam War was everyone’s obsession – at the conference and in the world outside; the Civil Rights movement was moving toward racial separation, Ramparts Magazine had just revealed that the CIA had been funding NSA and lots of other student activities. 

Betty_friedan_bw_3I wrote about this on the Ms. website when Betty died, so I’ll just repeat it here: She spoke about inequities in pay, power and sense of self between women and men. I was irritated. Didn’t she know there was a war going on? Didn’t she know how many kids went to bed hungry? Didn’t she know about racial injustice?

During Q and A I asked her "How can women worry about themselves when there is so much more abject misery in the world? " I asked. She drew herself up as only she could, looked me square in the eye and said "My dear, don’t hide behind the poor."

Fist_2 She was right, of course.  Over the years — I just realized that it’s 40 this year — we’ve struggled and grown.  The consciousness raising groups of the 70s were just that: they genuinely raised our awareness of the vast disparity in pay, rights and attitude between women and men.  The world today is unimaginably different.  But not finished.

There’s a sad split between old school feminists like me and younger, equally committed women.  I don’t feel it personally but see it as a real political loss – we should be working together and for many younger women the groups of my generation seem staid, old and disinterested in their younger sisters.  If we’re fighting sexism we shouldn’t be fighting each other! 

Beyond that, pay equity is closer but not all the way there; many major businesses and executive jobs still sport major glass ceilings, working mothers at all levels still have real problems – more in the hourly kinds of work than white collar.  Divorce, domestic abuse, child custody and support — all of these issues are still without resolution.  And in many areas, like abortion and federal protection of rights, we’ve slid badly under the current administration.

What gives me hope though is to think of my sons and the sons of my friends, and of the young people who share our lives in our community.  These men wouldn’t dream of assuming certain tasks belong to women; wouldn’t dream of treating a female colleague or employee with less than appropriate dignity and can’t imagine another way to live.  Systemically we still have a lot to do, but I do think that as we move forward these sons of feminists, raised with respect to respect their moms and sisters, classmates and friends, will not only de-fang sexism but also provide shining examples of how much better life is without it.  Amen.