The Accidental Feminists

I was born on a Monday while my father was golfing. He always took great pride in telling me that. My dad was a salesman --- self-made and self-willed. My mother was a resourceful home-economist and clandestine industrialist. I can still see the two of them dancing to Que Sera Sera across the linoleum floor of our newly built suburban track home. They waltzed through moon landings, Camelot, free love, and the breaking of the genetic code. From my staircase view between the balusters, I witnessed the heel turn of the gender gap and the ‘hug and sway’ of a cultural revolution. “What do you want to be when you grow up Patricia?” It was the $64,000 question of my childhood. I always had the urge

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