For me, one of the many advantages of senior citizen status and semi-retirement is the rediscovery of time. While I presumably have less time to spend on this earth, I am more careful to choose how I use it. I am dedicating this blog post to my sister-in-law Kathy Shields who left us this Fall after a courageous struggle with illness and mortality. My husband lived in a birth family with one older brother and five sisters. (That’s a lot of sibling history and dynamics going on in my book.) Typically, I will only cultivate relationships with a few favorites in my extended family pool. Blessedly, I became acquainted with Kathy over the almost 2 years preceding her death. She was the mother of two young women. She seemed to love and enjoy spending time with her granddaughter. She dedicated her life to educating 2nd Grade students in Fremont, Nebraska. She was hardworking, thrifty, and gentile in her manner with zero swear words in her vocabulary. I learned something about humility and courage in our association. She was completely aware of how even brief human connections can help us grow wisdom and character. I will try to remember and share her contributions to my life’s direction and the daily path I choose.

God bless and keep you Kathryn.

MY 2015 ROAD TRIP

September and October took me on enjoyable personal travel to Florida and Europe. It was comforting to see how maturity on everyone’s part can avoid toxic conflict and unnecessary drama. I greatly appreciate my family’s contributions to a New Age of Tolerance and Civility. I only wish we could roll this program out to and through the media. I am totally disgusted and honestly more than a little afraid of all the hate and vitriol I see daily on social media. The political cycle feeds this monster in a political climate of our own making. Of course, I am a recovering political road warrior myself. I understand how fear and irrational beliefs have always been a factor in political contests. Social media just shines a hot spotlight on all our anxiety and impatience. I try to be thoughtful, tactful and kind. I carefully reflect on my social media presence to be as authentic and constructive as I can. I appreciate that what I consider a strength may be viewed as a crippling weakness. I can live with that. I am proud to wear the mantle of “Little Goody Two Shoes.” I am in fact a do-gooder. I can also be a busy body. I can live with all that too.

                   GO BIG RED Miami 

LION OF LUCERNE c. 1821

TROLLS, STALKERS AND DISAGREEABLE FANS

I hear from more friends than foes on Facebook. I benefit from varied connections I have made. My life is enriched by information and perspectives I glean from Twitter, Pinterest, Instagram, et al. Pinterest helps me flesh out my life story. I share this experience with my favorite cousin Micki. Instagram visually connects me with a sampling of interests, friends, family and miscellaneous persons of interest. Tumblr is a platform for this blog and others I mostly enjoy through photographs. I occasionally look at Google+ for random stuff on science and technology. Snapchat is a new addition where I was delighted to connect with my spouse and a grandson who shares status reports on geckos. The benefits of LinkedIn are not as obvious to me looking in the rearview mirror of my employment history. I still have some professional connections who carefully avoid Facebook, Twitter, etc. LinkedIn provides a snapshot of their journey if they remember to keep it current.

I share content on Facebook daily from numerous sources I find enjoyable, informative or thought provoking. I obviously do not endorse or fact check everything I post. Why would I take on this level of responsibility? I am an amateur blogger and gadfly. I spend most of my time tending little dogs, and looking for updates on grandsons. I enjoy pictures posted by my favorite niece, some first cousins, in-laws and their families. It always perplexes me when a Facebook “friend” scolds me for posting a source or report they find suspect. REALLY? Do your own Internet due diligence people! I am not your research assistant.

I am going to reference my Facebook experience this week to make a few points. I shared a medium.com blog post by David Brock who describes himself as “Journalist. Author. Democratic activist.” His title “Let’s Talk Hillary” shared his opinion that as people get to know Clinton they seem to like her more. Fair enough you say? One of my so-called Facebook “friends” instantly shared the post with his suggestion: “You must be gullible to believe her lies. Not ever going to support her.” I posted a comment denying personal gullibility and clarifying why I personally admire and support this leader, and suggesting it is too easy (implication simplistic and/or unfair) to just dismiss a political candidate as a liar. Not surprisingly, the discourse went further downhill as my gullibility and the candidate’s veracity and ethics were further called into question. A comment reply by some guy I do not know then suggested I was too “thin skinned” when I challenged disparaging characterizations of myself. This is a classic maneuver of the Facebook troll. If I stick up for myself I am obviously thin skinned. I couldn’t be, say, confident, brave, savvy, or professionally trained to spot male chauvinism and aggression. Now I concede that anyone who comments critically on an acquaintance’s (let’s not say friend’s) post is asking for it. We all have defensive and ego saving impulses. Socialized gender roles and bad communication habits can then take social discourse down a frustrating path. I know it is irrational to think my Facebook protestations will motivate personal growth and change in others while I am voluntarily jousting over politics. Having said this, I am still going to call out haters who try to put me and my team in our place. Trying to shame, intimidate or defeat others through vicious accusations is not O.K. with me. I am also finding it hard to defend the shortsighted “Team Spirit” I see when a political partisan promotes their favorite candidate by vilifying a competitor in the tryouts. It’s like shooting some of your team’s players in the foot, while discouraging boosters who loyally support your team’s shot at victory! It’s anyone’s guess which campaigns or interests fan these flames of divisive discourse. The tactics are obvious, but the strategic motives far from transparent. This troubled landscape clearly invites some alternative consideration of gullibility.

    WALT DISNEY PRODUCTIONS “POLLYANNA” (1960)

QUERY: I am pondering if a confessed Goody Two Shoes like me can actually be “too nice?” That was another critique I received this week for criticizing 24 hour news organizations. Using media hyperbole to stoke flames of political character assassination is not responsible journalism in my book. Apparently lots of partisans will give this conduct a pass as long as the attack centers on a public figure they fear or dislike. News reporters and commentators rely too much on press releases and news sources manipulating their coverage. One of my pet peeves, for sure. I want to believe Free Speech in a democratic society can do better.

As always, this reflection takes me back to memorable entertainment from my 1950s childhood. (Actually, Walt Disney’s film “Pollyanna” was screened in 1960.) Based upon a bestselling 1913 novel, it depicted a young orphan remarkably determined to welcome the most optimistic perspective into her life. Why this message resonated with me is curious. I was not an orphan sent to live with a wealthy relative. I may have envied a few possibilities in this scenario. Being nice and speaking optimistically was certainly not my default style. Maybe the Pollyanna message was somehow congruent with my Mother’s instruction on manners?

Blogging 56 years later, my takeaway is that trying to look for the best in everyone and everything helps me more than hurts me. It does not seem to damage those around me. I never regret being kind or polite. Others may choose another path and the consequences. I guess friends and followers can feel free to “rain on my parade” if they must. Just know I almost always carry my umbrella….

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This post will seem too personal and anatomical to some. My motive is not to offend or generate controversy. I just realize that it is probably necessary to share more childhood memories to put my political journey into perspective. I am usually discrete and demure so I am sure my reflections will be pretty harmless, at least by 21 Century standards. This chapter continues my explanation of why I became Another Accidental Feminist.

The easiest “secret decoder” for my personal history and social perspective is to remember that I was born 5 months and 166 days before the 1950’s came into existence. My early childhood years were lived in an Eastern Nebraska town with a U.S. Census population of 3815 growing to 4931 by 1960. My parents were Midwestern Protestants only a generation removed from the latter Victorian Era. The only reliable mention of sexuality before my Puberty was a little booklet I received in 5th grade at the public school I attended. Actually, a neighbor boy had mentioned something a few years earlier but it all sounded preposterous. His understanding of the anatomy was actually somewhat mistaken. This could have been confusing if I had given any credence to what he was saying. Anyway, the 5th grade “reveal” was a jolt to my understanding of gender. One afternoon near the end of the school year, the teacher announced that the boys in my class were to report to the gym. To this day, I have no idea how the boys spent the segregated time afforded to their group.

On the day in question, the girls watched a short black and white film strip. We were then sent home with booklets. The official nature of this communication process was both exciting and embarrassing. My sister and I had not been especially encouraged to initiate conversations with adults in our home. I was not even that good of a listener back then. Because I am somewhat compliant by nature, I did show my mother the booklet and briefly reported the surprising class room segregation and film screening. I would describe my Mom’s reaction as pretty compassionate. I had a sense she knew this all was coming. Mom basically confirmed the truth of the information I had been given without going into detail. She explained that this was a natural part of being a woman. The information I had just been given was generally known by grown ups living in the United States, presumably including my Father. I was not really sure about that circumstance since the boys at my school had all been excluded from the teaching. I have since asked a few adult male friends what they learned on that same occasion. Perhaps, they were also given some pertinent information? To date, no specific recollections have been shared. Guys look honestly perplexed by the question. I guess it was not a such big deal or worthy of note in their lives. Maybe they just went out for ice cream?

This is a 1957 publication but my recollection has more “pink” around the edges.

Mom encouraged me to read the booklet, which I did several times. There were some diagrams of reproductive organs. I had a younger sister, but had never heard anything about biology related to her birth. When the reality of the female process described set in, it all sounded messy, embarrassing and inconvenient. There was apparently a direct connection to pregnancy and motherhood. It was a bit helpful to get this information. The booklet mentioned that fathers also had some role in the reproductive process. This was the official explanation given in a nutshell. I continued to ponder whether the boys in my class were told anything at all. I certainly would not be asking any of them or my Father for details. I had exhausted what my Mother wanted to say. Maybe she knew more. I formed an impression that I would be married some day and my husband might update me on the specifics.

MICKEY MOUSE CLUB

My prepubescent self deduced that at some point in the not too distant future, boys and girls would develop more interest in socializing. I got a sense of what this might look like from watching “The Mickey Mouse Club.” 1950’s T.V. had several boy characters in my age range, but I lost my heart to the older Spin Evans of MMC’s “The Adventures of Spin and Marty.” The Marty character was a rich kid, but Spin was cool and shared working class roots with me. The first year of this serial focused on horses and the evolution of a youthful rivalry into a friendship between the title characters. The next cycles of “New” and “Further Adventures” introduced the lovely Annette Funicello into the mix. Some rivalry came back into the picture. The suggestion that 2 boys would compete for the affection of a girl seemed pretty appealing. Of course, I was no Annette, but who was? Later programs featuring Annette depicted 2 girls competing for the attention of the same boy, which was more congruent with information I had gleaned from entertainment exposure. I experienced both of these basic scenarios as I lived through the 1960’s. The remarkable thing about my own adolescence was that between the 5th grade booklet and high school, I received little authoritative scientific information on human reproduction. I did surreptitiously read a relative’s Encyclopedia Britannica one Summer, but the information was sketchy at best.

OMAHA SOUTH HIGH 1966

Without going into too much depth, the additional information I received on this topic from my family was minimal. The basic goal was unequivocal and easy to remember. Mother just mentioned that she and my Father assumed I understood that a girl should not get pregnant before marriage. This “conversation” occurred sometime while I was in high school, possibly my Sophomore year. There was also a special co-ed Hi-Y group meeting announcing this same guidance. The implication was that self control would be the key to compliance. Of course, the particulars on how one would actually get pregnant or avoid it in a particular situation were never disclosed.  I had picked up some rudimentary information, but it was hardly comprehensive. Sexual behavior and contraception were not suitable topics for discussion even among my best girlfriends.

Contraception was not an option for girls like me. My financially challenged family really had no money for routine health care. I had to wait 2 years to get glasses. My medical examinations and dental care was sporadic and only scheduled when specifically needed for school enrollment. I received 50 cents per school day for lunch. I never gave much thought to any of this. The truth of the matter is I did not hear much about birth control until I married in college. I followed some T.V. news in my high school and early college years – Civil Rights, even Vietnam caught my focus, but the whole reproductive health planning deal did not come to my attention. The FDA approved the Pill for contraception in 1960 and the United States Supreme Court affirmed a married couples’ right to use contraception in Griswold v. Connecticut (1965). These developments did not even get on my personal radar screen.

Some of my classmates faced the consequences of teenage pregnancy. Dropping out of high school was pretty much a given back then. I heard tales of teenage marriages with new dads having to work at low wage jobs providing little opportunity for their family’s future. Celebrity Ricky Nelson from “The Adventures of Ossie and Harriet” seemed to work it out following some initial scandal. He was a rich kid and had resources my peer group lacked. Unplanned pregnancy was risky business for a working class teen in the 1960’s.

Anyone perusing this story for a contrite confession of teenage transgressions will be disappointed. My lack of information on human reproduction did not present any problems for me. I was blessed with one pregnancy in my life that surprised me 5 years into my first marriage and halfway through my law school education. I share all this TMI to introduce a topic central to my political “Herstory.” I lived my early Nebraska life in a bubble of 20th Century naivete and ignorance that did not prepare me for adulthood, gender relations, or political engagement. How then did I evolve into a Nebraska Democratic Party “personality” associated with Feminism?

This is where the story gets a bit interesting, if not fascinating to me. I will get into it more in PART TWO and future blogs, but for now let’s just say it concerns my experiences as a young wife, university studies, Law School, my legal career, Nebraska Democratic Party activists and a certain Lincoln Journal Star reporter.

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