Page 64

I am on page 64, got a respectable long paragraph, managed to get all my book titles in there. Its in the newly published thick book called “Feminists who have changed America” by Barbara Love. I guess this is as far as a writer like me can go- this is the pink ceiling.

The years covered starts with 1963-1975(University of Illinois Press), the Second Wave. When I entered this time, I was 30 years old: right on the doorsteps of my Second Destiny.

I still had many clothes from that period, because I wear velvets and silks and they don’t age. I wore everything from those times, turquoise silk shirt, green velvet pants, and a scarf from the 80s. I treat my clothes well, the good pieces are like a precious diary that tell the stories of my life. They are kept safely in my closet. I have the first t-shirt of the first Spiral Dance in L.A, circa 1976; the first t-shirt for my first festival I have produced. These are not just clothes but records.

At the Montclair Women’s Club, we had a celebration produced by Margie Adam and Bo Price. There were 300 women, many of them in the new book, many friends, most of us had white hair, some of us were hardly recognizable.

“Hey Z, you look the same!” some women said, but I know they have checked my name card first. There isn’t anyone who can defy the hand of time. I was still happy getting the compliments. But I answered, “Yes, fat don’t crack.”

As it happened I sat next to Holly Near. Holly’s voice has gotten even better, and it was always bells in her throat. Now she could carry a stadium without a mike. She was singing a new song, reverent today, about the war. A new verse, she has written, and sang with that magnetic voice. Margie Adam, oh she has never looked more handsome, now there is a woman who has not gained an ounce since the seventies. Glorious in her triumph, she sang the last Hymn, We are in it for the LONG HAUL. Chilling, spine-tingling to know that somehow it’s us. We have signed up and never let go, didn’t tarry, kept it up and now we are feted as pioneers.

It’s a strange thing to be part of a phenomenon. It’s a generational thing. This group of boomers somehow took it upon ourselves to change the status of women for the better, and got away with it. I have introduced Women’s Spirituality into the American psyche, replaced the old jealous and possessive god of the bible with a Great Mother who has ten thousand names. It’s spreading so well, I have no idea how many little woman “cells” there are who gather together with food and prayer and light candles to the Queen of Heaven. May there be more than I can ever count.

To the over 2 thousand women pioneers whose names are in this book, Blessed be! Well done!