In my very first university class, I read “The Feminine Mystique,” and it cracked something wide open in me. Suddenly, I woke up and could see sexism everywhere. It was like a spiritual awakening that expanded my fledgling female world.  

Unintentionally, I’d landed in the feminist college at University of California, Santa Cruz. I didn’t choose it for the chick solidarity; I simply coveted the individual apartments and kitchens it offered. But that one practical decision ended up shaping my entire life.  

Betty Friedan’s groundbreaking book began as a 1957 survey of her fellow Smith College classmates for their 15-year reunion. Most were white, middle-class suburban women who truthfully admitted feeling unhappy and unfulfilled as housewives and mothers. Their responses led Friedan to broaden her research into the book that is credited with igniting the second wave of feminism — following the first surge that won white women the vote in 1920. 

 

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