Though I hated learning how to type in junior high school, my teacher announced to the girls in the class that they would need this skill, and she was right! I went to work right after high school in 1947, but luckily or unluckily, because I was the editor of my high school newspaper, the printer (linotype!) created a position for me and hired me. It sounds important, and it was unusual. I traveled to many high schools in New York City helping faculty advisors and students prepare their school newspapers, which meant I worked in the office with close contact to the shop. Everything was done manually; typed copy, 2 sets of galleyproofs, one for corrections, and the other for pasteup layouts, photos,  and headlines, then corrections on pageproofs. Eventually, the printer, who produced all of the materials for theNYCBoard of Education (manuals, tests, instructional materials, minutes oflicensing interviews, contracts, rules, etc.) used me as a gofer to deliver andpick up proofs at the Board, and as a file clerk in the office.

Eventually, he saved money at his union shop by hiring a NYTimes proofreader to train me, and when the proofreader left, my work  increased to include proofreading tax & property liens printed by that company, but I could not join the printers’ union because I was a girl. My longer  working hours prevented me from attending evening classes at a college. My salary didn’t increase; only my hours did to match the shop and office schedules.

 From that time on, I held many jobs in all kinds of businesses, and my typing was most important. We had manual typewriters, used carbon paper,  a switchboard which all of us had to learn how to operate (to relieve the fulltime operator),and of course, we had to dress appropriately: girdles (though I was slim) or garter belts, stockings, gloves, hats, no slacks, of course, and our shoulders, arms, and knees were covered, too. Men were in charge and women cleaned up after them. I never mastered stenography, instead learned Speedwriting, but, luckily, my writing ability came in handy, so most of my "bosses" relied on me to produce letters, reports. In one job, I learned how to use theGray Audograph dictation machine because my bosses, 2 quality control men in a new textile company, Burlington Mills, used technical terms in their reports.

Later, at a non-profit fundraising job, though a secretary (and that position encompassed many duties), I arranged conferences, dinners, sent out invitations & brochures, maintained contributors’ mailing lists, collected & recorded contributions, sent receipts, and even wrote copy for a radio program. And, because my boss was not a fluent writer in English, he relied on me to prepare all written materials. Did I mention being charming on the telephone and in person to our volunteers and supporters?

Everything was done manually; women never rose to any position above "their station," and salaries were based on our being single or having a husband "who supportedthe home," a delusion, but it permeated commercial and non-profits, to our detriment.

Because I had strong organizational skills, I had many responsibilities; I learned how to use whatever machine an office provided; at first, each job was a challenge, then it became a dreadful routine. Office politics, the smell of messy ashtrays,  lack of any power to make decisions about my work, being forced to listen to office gossip (there was nowhere to escape to), and the pettiness  irritated and bored me; though I attended night college,  had my own studio apartment, there was little personal time. Transportation to and from work was on the NYC subway.The only lucky thing was that I could sew and could copy anything I observed,so I had a great wardrobe without spending too much on clothes, but we woreheels in those days, and I liked leather goods, so handbags & shoes were agreat expense.

Throughout that time I pursued my education, but when I married, and we needed  income to survive (my husband worked full-time & was a graduate student, as well) I worked at night again in offices, during tax season typing income tax reports on waxy stencils for accounting companies, did statistical typing in other offices, and eventually worked for an encylopedia company at night, so that I could be home during the day taking care of my 1st child. My last daytime office job was at magazine distributor, and I was called a "correspondent" which differed from the pool of typists who sent outautomated letters. The work was repetitive for all of us, and the male executives were really salesmen who could not write  letters or keep records. My job helped pay the bills, but it required very early morning hours,a long subway trip, and placing my son in a full-time nursery school, something hard to find and disapproved of by many. I had no family to  help me, and my husband & I struggled to keep ourselves financially afloat.

Eventually, I ended all that, had a 2nd child,  earned an academic degree and then a 2nd degree, and then a doctorate, and began teaching while rearing 2 children.

As soon as I could afford it, I purchased an electric typewriter for my home; my junior high school teacher was right. I have always relied on typewriters & now computers.

While Betty Friedan "in her wisdom" advised married women to fill the void in their lives by going to work, I had already faced those obstacles she never mentioned: low salaries, lack of respect for my brain, the necessity to please male bosses,and the ability to endure boredom and to languish at a typewriter at the beck and call of those perhaps less qualified. In all the offices I worked there were no female executives, sometimes a supervisor, but her job was one step above the secretaries. I had no illusions about office work: it was to earn a living, not for personal fulfillment and all that nonsense Friedan proposed. I’ve always believed that she had someone to type her work, because she never wrote about the nitty gritty of office work. 

For some time,  rigid feminists insisted we never use "ladies," because it reminded them of old fashioned views of women at lunch or as dependent on men or as perfectly behaved social creatures; now the word "women" has connotations. Women is used to distinguish from "Girls," a term my generation and later ones rejected. When a man uses "girls, I want to throw "Boy" at him and make certain he understands why—it is demeaning. And, it is insulting to grown men in racial terms.

  Also, in office and factories manager/bosses referred to male employees as men and female employees as girls. As an adult female, I do not want to be called "girl," do you?

 Since language is not only historical & social, it is also highly political, and de Beauvoir, it is a semantic problem  in translation, and has other connotations.

We’ve moved far from the question on class, but these terms also indicate the speaker’s class, as well as the listener’s. 

S, who is to say?????? 

I’ve never practiced saving the world; I try to bring change with one person at a time, and I have  needed the care of many nurse’s aides, because of fractures and living alone. In each case, I examined their pay checks to make certain that the payroll administrators, who sit on their rumps all day polishing their nails, paid the workers adequately, and it is never adequate—no benefits, and if they work ‘round the clock they don’t get paid for the night, because they get food. So, I help each woman, and I’ve done it many times, to explore possibilities of going to college or a training school, and I keep in touch with them, and one calls me every Xmas to tell me of her progress. We tease each other, because she has joined the middle class, and as a single mother from Nigeria she can support herself and daughter well.

 Frankly, and, of course, you don’t know me, I am a professional who earned 3 degrees by working at awful, often mindless jobs, and attended collegesl at night, as my mother an immigrant garment worker did to acquire English long ago, and I have been self-supporting from the age of 18, and even when married, which means I didn’t hang out only with middle class women whose parents paid for their daughters’ college educatioon to prepare them to work in professions. I don’t trust the doctors, lawyers and CEOs to represent  working class women because they don’t know any unless they are their maids. Of course, there are the trickle down results, as you mentioned, and more opportunities for women in professions now, but I was distinguishing or trying to distinguish our use of the words "career" and "work," the former implying that women employed out of the home is a recent phenomenon, and we do know better! And these 2 words reveal a class bias.

I, too, am dismayed by the conclusion that the history of women’s work outside of the home began in the 1960s. What about nurses and teachers when we were children? And what about secretaries, clerks, cleaning women,dressmakers, maids, nannies, cooks, file clerks, bookkeepers, file clerks, factory workers, waitresses, telephone operators who worked to support themselves and their families? Why diminish their work? It is tiresome to read and listen to those who suffer from self-congratulations on the great strides made by women post 1960. Did they also invent the  sewing machine on which many women worked to earn a living?  

The word "career" isn’t magical to those of us whose antecedents, like us, worked at whatever it took to earn a living. Betty Friedan did not invent the term. She was a college educated, middle class woman who probably had a woman do her typing at work. I haven’t mentioned field hands, have I, and farmers’ wives who worked alongside their families to provide the necessities.

Is it only semantics or is it "attitude?" 

Thank you, Phyllis. Actually, few ever compare my experience with the American story. I was encouraged to write this statement because I had read yours, and had to laugh how you and your father discussed finances, and how to manage them. That was familiar to me. Whenever I mention the ten cents my father charged me for  a check, friends are horrified, but I always understood that I had to pay for extras or personal preferences, and that I had to use money carefully. In those days, children were not given cash to spend as they wished, but my parents relied on me to make decisions early, and because at 8 I was fluent in Engish (finally lost my accent), I spoke on the telephone for my father when he had to order supplies for the store. He also taught me how to balance his business checkbook.  Also, my mother, who worked in the store, relied on me to make important (but few) purchases for our home by the time I was 11, and to escort my grandmother to the doctor to be her interpreter. I mention all this, because children of immigrants grow up quickly. However, because I had no siblings, I didn’t have to take care of younger children in my home, which was customary.

The high school I taught in for 17 years had a population where there was no majority, and as a college advisor for 8 years, I made certain that immigrants were well served, especially girls who had not been encouraged to apply to college. In any case, because I was grateful for my education, I wanted "to pay back" all it provided for me. I wasn’t saving the world, but working with young individuals, one at a time.

For me, this question is simplistic, because class has never been isolated from other distinctions, such as religion, race, community, culture. As the firstborn American of recent immigrants, in the 1920s, all my early memories revolved on who we were and how we survived.  For example, my first years were spent in an all-immigrant community where my parents spoke their primary language, as well as their public languages. Within our group, there was a majority of factory workers, some owners of small businesses, as well as employees. My father lost his job at the beginning of the Depression, and we lived on savings until he bought a store in a more assimilated neighborhood where I learned that my "foreignness" was a great issue, and where those of my own background treated me as an alien. Because of the diversity in that tenement community, I lived among working/unemployed/poor/Black/white/Jewish/Christian(mostly Catholic & Eastern Orthodox) families, and I realized that it was necessary for me to learn English to cope with an unfriendly, and sometimes hostile environment in public school, as well as among my neighbors. Residents carried within themselves  distinctions in education (in the old country),class (in the old country, as well as in the U.S.), and who owned or worked in local stores, and those who entered the garment factory system to supportfamilies. Earning a living was paramount. My parents’ education in the old country did not prepare them to be storekeepers, and in the 2nd community, where we lived for many years, my parents did not mix socially with neighbors, for they were our customers.

Unlike the present generation, we were not exposed to television and daily reminders of wealthy people, but we were conscious of our relationships to employers, those who were native speakers of English, those who had accumulated money to enlarge their businesses, and those who had employees. And, eventually the more prosperous families moved to “better” communities, and purchased single or two-family houses. As for us, “we never made it to Flatbush!” We never owned a home or a car.

I consider myself very lucky that I always knew who I was, and was never overcome by envy or anger about who I was not. Because I was an only child, my parents provided security  and material goods, as my friends with many siblings would claim, and what we had were shelter, food,clothing (which my mother and I sewed) and savings, because my parents were pragmatic, and always worried about the inevitable emergencies. I learned arithmetic on my father’s manual cash register, and I was always conscious of money worries and responsibilities, because my mother and father worked together in our store and supported my paternal grandparents when their store failed.

Unlike my peers, I received an allowance, and was responsible for making decisions about spending it. I bought books, material to sew clothes, magazines, but I knew my limits, and if I wanted to order something by mail, my father charged me ten cents for the check.

School made an American of me, and my teachers, some from my own background, who were hostile to my  religious observances (taking  days off from school for holidays) taught me to behave, speak, and express myself in a more suitable manner, such as  always being conscious of the milieu, not using gestures while speaking (the American model). And, when I went to work after graduatingfrom high school, my Jewish last name was an excuse for employers not to hire me, and it was not a covert action on their part.

A long time ago, a friend from India said that being poor in his country was very different, for the poor only knew the poor. However, we, the immigrants, and the children of immigrants,  always have a double-consciousnessof our "position," an awareness that the predominant culture does not possess. And, we do not think of ourselves as "the advocates of the unfortunate," because  we were among those who had to help ourselves. It was a daily lesson and goal.

My childhood prepared me to cope with class, social, religious, and racial diversity from the moment I was born; my later immersion in art, music, theatre, dance, literature andhistory prepared me to live in the world, not in that narrow American view of emulating or envying the white moneyed upper class, and patronizing the poor;  worldwide travels as an adult expanded my view that every society has its distinctions and values, based on inequities, discrimination, and political power.

And, when I married a man from a British colony, who had grown up in a tropical village without electricity or running water, and I lived with his family as a young mother, I knew that I could survive anywhere.  There was no hierarchy in my worldview. And, to this day, I do not associate only with those who share my racial, religious, economic, or educational background.

As for the differences in class, again I feel fortunate, because it did not shape my inner world when I was very young. And, because my husband & I began teaching in public schools in our late 30s, and were part of a diverse group, my children and I do not consider racial, religious, ethnic, or class differences as obstacles to overcome; they are the essence of who we are and were. Before teaching, I held many jobs to support myself, and to acquire 3 academic degrees, like other "minorities" in this vast country. I have never relied on race, family history, inheritance, or status to reach my goals.

However, it was much harder for my daughter who had to work while attending 2 Ivy League universities where her classmates "lived on their dividends." My son,  a musician,  performed all over the world, and also has that “double consciousness,” so within my family, we have all the strains and issues of class, opportunity, ethnic diversity, and more. 

Present times now reveal how misguided were those who wanted to rise in class by borrowing excessive money to build “estates”  to emulate “the Ralph Lauren landed gentry,” and I feel great pity for them, because they believed in the illusion of entitlement; however, I do not identify with them, and my children do not identify with them, because it was all a myth. The hierarchy of class which Americans used to minimize has blown up in their faces. And now we all experience financial dangers because of that delusion.

I agree. I’m appalled at how often people eat in movies, make rude sounds wrapping and unwrapping food, and I wonder how many meals they require. Eating in the street is abominable! Wherever I go, someone is eating. However, because I live in NYC, I can walk everywhere; when I visit suburbs, I’m aware that walking is a alien enterprise. Except for dog walking or getting in and out of cars, the population does not walk. Parents drive their children to all their activities.Some young people rely on their bicycles, bt it doesn’t seem American to do it.

I do envy those who learned to ride a bicycle when young, and in Manhattan,  men and women try to use bicycle lanes, but drivers are not respectful of the traffic boundaries.That is why Amsterdam is such a charming place; the buses accommodate baby strollers (I was so impressed that I took photos of the interiors when I visited family there), and portions of food overseas are moderate. What I enjoy the most is the walking in Europe.

In the US, I call walking "the virtuous endeavor," because most people speak of it as though it is a duty, not a pleasure. I don’t dress in gym clothes to take walks; walking is part of my daily existence, and whenever I am housebound, I feel antsy. 

I don’t think we have to emulate other nations, but we can certainly improve upon our own habits. No, my gym memberships languished, and I enjoy cooking and savoring meals, but I balance how I do it, and walking has kept me fit from childhood until now at 80, and I mean on a pleasant evening, I walk miles from Times Square theaters to my downtown home.  I call myself a "tourist in my hometown," because I enjoy looking at the pedestrians, cars, neighborhoods, etc.I don’t consider it a necessary chore—-always a pleasure..

I’ve written about my Medicare coverage (since 1995) on another question. I am very satisfied with it, am part of a large group, and also have supplemental insurance. However, Part D, which I did not join and wouldn’t have except that my union made a deal so that when the donut begins I pay 3 times more for my drugs, is dangerous to seniors. Some have to cut down on important medications because they cannot afford them.Though I’ve saved for emergencies, without Medicare, I’d be broke.

Before penalizing those who pay for and are covered by Medicare, control the pharmaceutical companies that reap huge profits from our hard-earned money, and cut administrative costs.  And, instead of referring to "government coverage" as something derogatory, learn about other systems in Germany, Japan, Great Britain, and other countries, and learn from them. And, we have much to learn.

 Don’t accuse us of are robbing our children, and all that stuff. And, don’t destroy what is beneficial. 

I recommend reading the newly published "The  Healing of America" by T.R.Reid who compared  medical programs in 10 countries, and then those who have more discretionary money than people like me will understand the necessity for universal care and how it can function well for a nation, not selected citizens. None of these plans described in the book exclude people who have prior conditions, and countries like Japan have an increasingly larger population of seniors, who are covered, to their satisfaction.

In the U.S. both Social Security (which wealthy people can use for cab fare) and Medicare have been positive experiences for those of us who worked during our entire adult lives, paid into the system, and now benefit from these plans. If there is a financial problem, propose changing the financial setup, but do not dismantle these programs. 

Yes, Medicare has been a boon for us. Don’t minimize it or destroy it. If you can afford private insurance, then go for it! Many of us can’t. 

Dorothy! Great you wrote that! I did, too, earlier. This stereotyping of our generation is tiresome, and on this website it is alarming, as though all these young and not so young chicks will never grow older. They are so worried about aging, and of course, our presence makes them nervous. However, I do resent their patronizing us and telling us who we are. 

Margo, I reach 80 in a few days, and still "have my marbles," and so does my daughter’s mother-in-law, who is 89, and as do many of our contemporaries. Another still does substitute teaching. And, those of us who live in NY are active, do  and see everything and everyone. Please, no stereotypes.

(Perhaps Mom is focused on quality of visits, not quantity; that’s something to think about, eh?) 

It’s sufficient that on this website  one of the famous ones wrote that older people prefer male news commentators! Give me a break, and don’t blame our generation for the stereotyping again. The emphasis on chit-chat instead of news offends anyone searching for news, and legs, boobs, charm do not impress us. I respect those who do the job. Barbara Walters, charming as she is, and a very hard worker, never handled hard news. The emphasis on personalities leaves much to be desired. Cutesy & legs  never worked for anyone at any time.

As for the 80+ mother who claims her children are not visiting often; she may feel increasingly vulnerable, and that I understand. When we’ve outlived our usefulness, there is  sense of loss. Perhaps all you young ones haven’t reached that stage, so I assure you it’s often painful. And, Dad can’t be a reliable witness, because he has his own agenda! 

 As for the boor, the husband who has to be right and does it proudly in front of his boorish son and friends, I pity the wife, because he is a jerk and more. If a private talk doesn’t alert him, I know what I would do but don’t recommend it to others. Years ago, my closest friend was married to  this kind of man for 35 years (until his death) who  wouldn’t even permit her to have an opinion, and if she and I were going to a movie, he’d tell us which to see, and did not permit discussion. But, I’m not passive, so I told him to go to the movie, and that I prefer choosing  one for myself! These guys are awful and not worth any attention, so perhaps walking out of the room might achieve somthing. Otherwise, a loud chat might convince him that his behavior is disgusting and a poor example for his charmless son.

And, years ago I gave a New Year’s party in my home for 30 guests and their guests, and almost everyone called or wrote that having the boor in the room almost spoiled the party.  So, perhaps, if the wife has guts, she could make a scene by apologizing in front of his friends that he is being rude, and ask them to please forgive him. That would create  a thunderous reaction, I suspect. The guy thinks he’s super masculine, a terrible affliction!

My response was so long that I omitted the payment scheme. Yes, I do read my statements from Medicare and check the bills carefully. However, in NY many doctors have not been satisfied with Medicare’s payments to them. What I’ve noticed, and some doctors I’ve known for years claim  that manpower changes in their offices have reduced their incomes.. Years ago, their receptionist took care of billing, and everything else. Now, doctors rely on another employee or a company, which adds to their costs. Also, they pay for insruance to cover liabilty, and so on. And right now, despite the recession, landlords are raising rents. One doctor relocated to Arizona (he said for no parking problems), and another has had to move his office to another, because the owner of the building was so greedy when the new lease came up.

 The amount paid to the surgeon who operated on my dominant hand was really not compensatory for his work; if I had no Medicare, I know I would have had to pay him twice or thrice as much, and he truly deserved it. So, of course, I gained from having the coverage.

 I also have dental coverage from another plan, but there are many procedures which are not covered, so I end up paying for them, but I can’t complain so far. I remember the days whe my parents had no medical coverage, and now I realize that if I had none, my savings would be wiped out. 

Phyllis,

I was about to write the same response. I, too, am in a teacher Retirement group and have Medicare as my primary coverage, as well as supplementary coverage, and the doctor who requires monthly visits for a patient to receive appropriate prescriptions is milking the system and should be reported. I require have several maintenance drugs which the doctor DOES NOT PROVIDE, and with his prescriptions I order them online from the company that does. I take occasional medications for specific medical problems, and my doctor writes a prescription for the specific dose. There are no deals with any doctors for these prescriptions.

 On the whole, Medicare has provided excellent, and though my doctor tells me I’m in excellent condition for my age, I’ve had my share of miseries; a TIA (mini-stroke) treated with overnight hospitalization, but no medication, and my pressure settled because my doctor is conservative about presecribing drugs; several serious fractures, requiring surgery, emergency care, and I had excellent doctors and post-surgery care. I won’t go into the litany of my sorrows, but I am grateful for the treatment, regular mammogrphies, biopsies, colonoscopies, diagnoses, treatments I’ve received without additional costs since I retired in 1995, and wish the same for others.

As for doctors’ billing higher than what Medicare provides, it is not dishonest. The doctors do not receive high payments for what many of them do very well. For example, after 2 surgeries on my dominant left hand following a serious fracture, cast, and physical therapy for months, my surgeon, the head of the Hand Surgery Dept. of our local hospital, received a pittance for his expertise—and that fracture was complex, because it was bilateral and involved my right wrist, as well. I do not consider his being overpaid, and I regained full use of both arms and wrists, and my left hand. 

There are doctors who do not accept Medicare patients, because of its low payments to doctors, but there is no shortage of competent doctors who do. The only additional costs I’ve had have been for anesthesia ( usually charged under most plans), and some minor hospitalization costs. I cannot complain at all, for my breast surgeon, family physician, opthamologist, and other doctors  accept Medicare—no problems!