Okay, everyone knows about Marie Curie and I admit that a famous female mathematician doesn’t leap to my mind, but in my last post I explained that from my perspective, the truly important point for women is the array of choices that we have, more so than in past generations. During my 22 years in the Army I learned to do things that I hadn’t thought possible, especially in the first few years when men were still trying to absorb the fact that women were coming into previously restricted military specialities and assignments. I watched other women do the same and while not all were successful, it taught me some valuable lessons about stepping well outside your comfort zone. However, the doors that could have been opened to me had we understood it when I was younger were math and science. Interestingly, my older sister was inclined to science and good in math from as early as I can recall. Despite the fact that we were in a small town, there was a female science teacher in junior high school who saw that desire in my sister and nutured it from the beginning. (My older sister was also perfect, but that’s another subject.) I was neck-and-neck with my sister academically until I moved from basic arthimetic. When I struggled with algebra, the standard phrase of, “girls aren’t supposed to be good in math”, gave me the out that I needed. I was smart, but not in that and hey, when would I ever really need geometry? My sister was winning science awards left and right, acing trig and calculus, but I could talk rings around her with literature.

I kid you not that she went straight through from first grade to her PhD in Biochemistry, or maybe it was Cell Biology, and let us say that my path included as little science and math as I could get away with. The truth though is that while sure, some people are more obviously inclined to math and science than others, the fear, and therefore reluctance, that most children/adolescents have with regard to math and science can be fairly easily overcome with proper teaching. Now, I am not going to enter into the debate about the shape of our schools, and the education of children in general, because that is a multi-faceted subject. My point is that we still culturally immediately accept when girls don’t want to do math and science. A number of organizations and programs have developed to combat this inclination and if you don’t know about the work of Danica McKellar, former television star (“Wonder Years” and “West Wing”), who has authored books like, “Math Doesn’t Suck”, and become a major advocate for girls overcoming their fear of math, please visit her site of, http://www.mathdoesn’tsuck.com

When we consciously or unconsciously promote the idea that, “math and science aren’t for girls”, we do not only a disservice to girls, but also to ourselves as we lose our standing among other nations with regards to these disciplines. Not all mathematicians are scientifically oriented, but all scientists and engineers need math. Since I don’t have an artistic flair, had I become an engineer, I would have gravitated to the civil engineering side and implemented plans that others designed, but none of that was possible when I wasn’t willing to go beyond fundamental arthimetic. Would I have been better for it? I don’t know, but I love it when I watch Kari Byron on “Mythbusters”, or see interviews with women working in robotics, astronomy, etc.

So if you are in a position to influence a girl/adolescent who is certain she can’t “do math or science”, take some time to find out why and perhaps you can help her overcome the fear – even if you didn’t choose those subjects. I am not saying we don’t need artists, musicians, literature majors, and so forth. I am saying though that we may be closing doors that can be opened wide to lead to other paths.

This is actually going to be a three-part post because it would be entirely too long for a single one. Let’s begin with the admission that as a Baby Boomer, my life view has modified since I was eighteen. I had a life plan laid out that was a good plan and it’s difficult to know how things might have been for me had I kept to the plan. In reality I had two plans, neither of which I followed, although both had me remaining in small towns in Louisiana in a professional capacity. I was in that generation of women who anticipated having a career outside the home and balancing all that came with that – the “I Am Woman, Hear Me Roar” of the Helen Reddy song, and I indeed embraced the sexual revolution. No drugs other than alcohol, but I am straying from the point.

I set upon a different path though, one that caused me to be an inadvertent pioneer in the Army. While my “groundbreaking assignments” seem mild now compared to what women are doing, I can genuinely claim to have mentored some of those women. Along the way though I have encountered women who are so stridently feminist that they cannot see accomplishment unless it falls within their narrow definition, and on the other end of the spectrum, I do know women who are convinced that women have no place outside the home.

What I have come to embrace is that liberation in this, as in so many other things, is about choice – genuine choice. Are there still people who perpetuate a “glass ceiling”? Sure, but from my personal experience, they have significantly diminshed in number. Girls and women today have extensive opportunity from a career perspective if that is what they choose to do. On the other hand, if you look at childcare, commuting, and other work-related expenses, it sometimes makes economic sense for a woman to choose to be a stay-at-home mother rather than having/continuing/returning to a career, if that is what she also wishes to do from an emotional aspect. Neither position is intrinsically superior to the other, and it is when we try and claim so that causes acrimony among “the sisterhood”.

Genuine choice from my definition is that girls and women recognize the incredible range of options they can pursue. Some will be vastly more difficult than others, some may well run counter to cultural, familial, or social expectations. I firmly feel that it is my role as an older woman to help show girls/younger women that it is okay to step outside those barriers if they wish to do so. If they prefer to remain inside those expectations, that’s okay, too, as long as it is a choice freely made.

So here is a salute to women through the ages who have been warrior queens, who have made leaps in science, who have made aviation history, who have served as prime ministers of countries, and those who have cared for scraped knees, baked cookies, and kept a household together. Let us remember that there is room in the sisterhood for us all.

I try to stay away from politics and religion as such in this blog, but where personal philosophy crosses over can sometimes get muddled. And as I explain in the Welcome Page, Charlie’s Corner Cafe is a place where you can slip in for a short time or linger for as long as you like – it’s a 24-hour kind of place. Depending on your age, it may have been a while since you sat around with your preferred beverage and some good friends discussing philosophy. It was Ayn Rand’s birthday yesterday and no, I am not a member of the institute, but I also want to acknowledge both what an influence Atlas Shrugged was on my life and express my personal opinion that Ayn Rand (like Abraham Maslow) is often misunderstood in an attempt to “sound bite” them. That discussion, however, is way too lengthy for this post.

The thing is this – I discovered Atlas Shrugged when I was 18 (could have been 19) and even as a reader, I was initially daunted by the 1000+ pages. In truth, the individual who suggested that I read the book had been more intrigued by the intricacy of the book than by the philosophy and so I wasn’t prepared for what I was to find. At that stage of my life, I was emotionally roiling with rebellion against the kind of person that I was supposed to be. For anyone who has grown up in a small town (or a neighborhood that might as well be a small town), you know exactly what I mean when I say that having someone to help me with my frustration was difficult. Within the pages of Atlas Shrugged, however, I found that voice of individualism that I was aching for. I was a literature person mind you with a standard, although Eurocentric, grounding from Sophocles to Steinbeck. Existentialsim held a certain allure and yes, I read Jean-Paul Sartre in French, but did do Simone DeBeauvior in English. It was Rand though who touched me most, who provided me with that, “Yes, I am not alone in these thoughts”, moment that can be so crucial to forming one’s philosophical outlook. Well, laying the foundation, because I am not about to claim a fully formed outlook at that age. Needless to say, I followed up as quickly as I could with her other works and to these day I can’t recall how many copies of Atlas Shrugged I gave as gifts, or how many times I’ve read the book. (No, I haven’t seen the movie yet and am reluctant to do so since I’m unsure of how well it translated to screen.)

Notwithstanding some of the simplistic aspects of a book written in 1957, if you have never read Atlas Shrugged, I would urge you to do so. If you haven’t read it for several years, it might be time to brush it off, or get it in audio format if that is better for you. By the way, deep into the book there is a 20+ page speech delivered by a charcacter and it was probably my 5th or 6th reading of the book before I tackled that entire thing.

So, belated Happy Birthday Ayn Rand, and thank you for the role that you played in my life.

The manner in which the homeless situation is approached varies by state, county/parish, or perhaps even by town. In Homestead there is a wonderful organization called the Chapman Partnership. It was founded by Mr. Alvah Chapman, the former President of the Miami Herald and Chief Executive Officer of Knight Ridder. He was convinced that there was a better way to approach the homeless in Miami-Dade county and the organization that he subsequently built is a testament to what private-public partnerships should be. That, however, is not the precise point of this post. The Chapman Project works with multiple government agencies (all levels) and has an average stay of approximately sixty days before an individual or family is able to move into some type of more permanent housing.

Among numerous interesting aspects of the Chapman partnership is that they also accept a wide variety of donations. The Director of Volunteers and Community Liaison explained that they try, as much as possible, to help people with basic household goods. It was one of those things that I hadn’t really thought about, but I got it. You are homeless and now moving into an apartment or house. Doesn’t it make sense that you will need furniture, household items, etc.? While many charitable organizations accept donations and have thrift shops (which is a good thing), the Chapman partnership is able to funnel appropriate items directly to the same people that they help place in housing.

As some of you may recall from previous posts, I recently lost a very dear friend and  I have been assisting her family with moving things. Much of her clothing, unopened food, and other items were contributed to Chapman. I look around our house and know that if I would get myself energized, there are things that we could also contribute. Many people continue to struggle in today’s economy and cash contributions to charities and other non-profits are understandably down. So, have you been considering down-sizing, or at least finally tackling that storage area/garage/basement/attic? Sure, you can do a garage sale and quite frankly, you might want to seriously consider having an expert appraiser come out depending on what you have. But let’s say there’s that old set of pots and pans you haven’t touched since you got the non-stick ones, and why do you still have two extra coffeepots? There is a bookcase crammed with books you haven’t looked at in years, and you’ve never really liked that lamp very much. While charitable organizations almost always perfer cash, serviceable goods can be important, too. Do a kind deed for others and trim some of that stuff you know you need to. Check on-line or make a few calls in your area and see what groups could benefit from the items that you can easily part with. Trust me, you’ll be glad you did.

It’s funny the things that we put out of our minds that stick with other people. During our recent mini family reunion in New Orleans, my sister brought up the time I decided to get my private pilot’s license. That was in the period of my single parenting days with a toddler and I was assigned in Abilene, Texas as an Army ROTC instructor. While there was no Army facility, Dyess Air Force Base was the home to a B-52 Wing that transitioned to the new B-1 bomber. I made some great friends in what we called the “Corner of the Bar Social Club”, and yes, some of the characters in my first novel, Orchids in the Snow, were inspired by that group. I digress, however.

Being around all those pilots and being in West Texas with wide open spaces led to my desire to take pilot training. It was something that had intrigued me and seemed like a logical thing to do. I did enjoy it – there is an absolutely exhilarating feeling as you lift from the runway, soar at 1,000+ feet over the countryside, and touch down correctly. That first solo flight you take is a truly great experience, although as I progressed in the training, I realized that I had a couple of weak points – like navigation and airport procedures. I talked it over with one of my Air Force friends and quietly asked if he would consider giving me a few extra tutoring sessions. Not that I couldn’t have had those with my instructor who was quite good, but this part I wanted to keep private.

I had to be gone for several weeks to Fort Riley, KS, as a member of the ROTC summer camp staff and while I was with my Army buddies, I mentioned all of this to one of the guys who was an aviator. He looked at me and put it into perspective. “Charlie, not everyone can do this. If you’re not comfortable with it, walk away.”

Ouch! You mean, quit? I wasn’t a quitter. I was an intelligent person. I had a plan. I could do this. Except he had a good point. I could do this, I could overcome the intellectual aspects with a little extra work, more focus. I could pass the tests, do better on my next cross-country flight. Then I paused and genuinely reflected on my abilities, and I knew he was right. I did not have whatever it takes to possess the level of confidence that you should have with flying. The moments of sheer pleasure when in the air were laced with other moments of concern that I had been pretending were less intense than they really were. Wasn’t I going to take a lot of kidding from my friends who not only could fly small Cessnas, but who also easily maneuvered the most sophisticated bomber in the world? Quite possibly, and in the final analysis, taking a ribbing was infinitely better than continuing down an incorrect path. And so, with only a few requirements remaining, I walked away. I assured my instructor that it wasn’t him, and actually my pilot friends weren’t the least derisive. They agreed with the guy who had told me it wasn’t for everyone.

Did my “failure” personally sting? Oh yeah, and then I chalked it up to another good life lesson. Trying new things just doesn’t always work out. I don’t regret the time and money that I spent not achieving my goal – it never hurts to stretch yourself even when the end results may not be exactly what you wanted them to be. I don’t recommend quitting at the first “speed bump”, but there are times when it is best to admit that you aren’t able to do something.