ALSO IN THIS POST…
Who was Pauli Murray?
Latest on WOMEN MONEY POWER, the book
When I decided a few years ago that I was actually going to embrace the challenge of writing a sweeping account of female economic empowerment in America, the obvious first question that arose was where to begin. As I write at the start of one of my chapters, “searching for the original feminist—the person who actually started the fight for female economic empowerment in a meaningful way—would be like disassembling a Russian doll with a seemingly limitless number of figurines inside.”
One possible place to start was World War II: a time when women entered the paid labor market in huge numbers, effectively shifting the social norms, mores and parameters of the working world, in some cases literally overnight. Of course in order to actually understand the origins of American feminism, you have to go much further back—to the 1800s or 1700s, and arguably even before that—but in terms of a reasonably defensible chronology, the 1940s to the present day seemed as good as any.
I also knew that I desperately wanted my book to be narrative-driven. That means, I wanted it to be a story of human lives and real characters, replete with foibles and flaws. I fundamentally believe that as humans, the thing we care most about is other humans’ emotions and experiences, and indeed, that’s why I became a journalist. Based on all of this, I therefore quickly decided that in order to tell the true story of the working women of World War II, I had to find someone who had actually been there. A quick calculation informed me that it was feasible, and so the first mission of my book reporting journey began.
I started, where any journalist might, in a newspaper archive. This was the dark depths of the Covid-19 pandemic, but many archives had thankfully been digitalized. I searched for anniversary celebrations for “Rosie the Riveters,” commemorative events and memorial services. And lo and behold, it didn’t take me long before I found a local news report from Pennsylvania, featuring some commentary by a woman—well into her nineties—who I immediately knew I would like. I can’t remember exactly what Mae was quoted as saying, but I think it was something about women never having been given ample credit for serving their country. It was smart and sharp and eloquent and just angry enough that I knew she’d been a fascinating conversation partner.
I eventually tracked Mae down in a place where so many old people ended up congregating safely and responsibly during the pandemic: Facebook. I’d anticipated that I might have to coax her a little bit—convince her to talk to a strange journalist with a British accent—but how wrong I was! Within a day we’d spoken on the phone twice and before I knew it I was at Trenton train station, masked up and scanning the parking lot for a red pick-up truck and its nonagenarian driver.
I don’t think I’ll ever forget that October day that I spent with Mae in Levittown, a planned community in Bucks County northeast of Philadelphia where—as I write in the book—each house resembles the next, save for a varying array of political flags and garden gnomes that flank the front doors and porches. By the time Mae had pulled her truck into the driveway, she’d already told me all about her eight great grandchildren and three great-great grandchildren. She’d already told me that her life so far has spanned the terms of seventeen presidents. Franklin Delano Roosevelt, she concluded after some consideration, was probably her favorite.
She made me chicken salad sandwiches and coffee. I forgot I was a vegetarian. We drank cans of Coca-Cola at her kitchen table and then in the garden. It was an unseasonably warm afternoon. Mae showed me dozens of photo albums and scrap books that document her life from the time when she was a teenager building Boeing aircraft in Seattle. She showed me a paystub from 1944. She gave me a bandana and cotton face mask she’d made out of the traditional red and white polka-dot fabric we’ve come to associate with the iconic figure of Rosie the Riveter. “You’re a Rosie too now, she said.” I thought I was going to crumple with flattery.
From the moment I first saw her in that parking lot, I knew there was no way Mae wasn’t going to form the basis of the first chapter of WOMEN MONEY POWER. She embodies everything I think of when I imagine a Rosie the Riveter: the grit, the courage, the humor, the persistence. She’s fearless and pissed off. I’m not going to tell you how she feels about Donald Trump. But I’d imagine by now you have a pretty good idea.
Mae and I have stayed in touch since that first meeting. We email each other. I kept her updated on all things book. She’ll be 98 in a few weeks. Save for a few aches and pains, she’s thriving. I feel deeply privileged to be sharing her story because it puts a human face on an era that was so defining for the feminism movement and for female economic empowerment more broadly.
We’ve all seen the tote bags and bumper stickers adorned with the image of the beautiful coiffed Rosie, flexed bicep and rouged cheeks, ready to take on the enemy. How often have we actually considered the woman behind the caricature? How often have we thought about the experience of being tasked with keeping the economy ticking over at a time of national crisis, and then unceremoniously being reduced to an age-old stereotype just a few years later? How often have we considered what it might have felt like to perform critical paid labor, and then be told that our only appropriate duties are actually in the home?
I hope that you’ll enjoy reading Mae’s story as much as I enjoyed hearing it from her and then writing it. The book’s out in the U.S. in just over two weeks, on March 5. It’s out on March 14 in the U.K. and elsewhere. Mae’s chapter is entitled “Was Rosie the Riveter Robbed?” I’ll let you decide the answer to that.
Paying Tribute to Pauli
By now I think you know how much, in the process of completing the book, I enjoyed researching some of the people who dedicated their lives to empowering women. Mae was one of them. Pauli Murray was another.
Murray defied convention in almost everything she did to advance the causes of civil rights, feminism, and sexual freedom. But she never earned celebrity and has, to a great extent, been written out of history—which may well be testament to how threatened people in positions of power felt by her ability to spotlight the inequities that existed under their watch.
Murray was a mentor to Ruth Bader Ginsburg and a friend to Eleanor Roosevelt. She collaborated with A. Philip Randolph and Martin Luther King among many others. She co-founded the National Organization for Women (NOW). She was a legal scholar, an activist, a poet and—in later life—the first Black person perceived as a woman in the U.S. to become an Episcopal priest.
In June 2022, the The Yale Club of New York City unveiled a portrait of Murray in its lobby: a long overdue tribute to one of America’s true unsung heroes. (Murray was the first African-American to receive a J.S.D. degree from Yale Law School.) Last Wednesday, I had lunch a friend invited me for lunch at the Yale Club and I saw the portrait up close for the first time. It's stunning.
WOMEN MONEY POWER: The Book
Two weeks and one day to go and needless to say my fingernails are in bad shape.
I’ve been busy recording podcast episodes this past week and look forward to sharing more.
Earlier this month, I had the pleasure of joining Annette Young on her fantastic show The 51 Percent, broadcast on France 24. We talked all things WOMEN MONEY POWER and why statistics only ever tell part of the story of progress or, indeed, of setback.
Watch the full clip here or below (from about 4:10!) and please appreciate my makeshift TV studio and especially my framed Shirley Chisholm campaign poster that makes an appearance in the background.
Events
On March 4 (6pm), the evening before publication day, I’ll be reading from WOMEN MONEY POWER at the lovely Corner Bookstore on Manhattan’s Upper East Side. Drop me a note if you plan to attend. I’d love to see you there!
On March 26 (6pm), I’ll be speaking about the book at Dear Mama Coffee, next to Columbia Business School. I’ll be in conversation with Anushka Salinas, the President and COO of Rent the Runway. It’s free to attend but please register here!
Stay tuned for more New York City-based events…
I’ll also be in London in April. I’ll be doing an event on Monda, April 8, in central London. More details very soon.