Getting a Job

by Gabby W.

I remember just a couple years ago watching Jackie Kennedy’s White House Tour just made me want to have her life. I was in awe of how she could accomplish any job that she wanted to. I remember seeing her walking down the hallways of her luxurious home wearing her double pearl necklace. She was elegantly powerful. She was so independent and smart, and you could tell that she knew that because of the way she walked down the hallways. She looked so confident and happy. Looking at the way that she lived compared to the way that I lived was so different; she could do anything that she wanted. Jackie Kennedy was older than I was, so I saw myself being able to do the same thing that she was doing in the future. At the time, it ached to want something so badly and know that I never could have that life. Just two years ago, a strong woman was something that everyone dreamed of being but not everyone could achieve.

A protest for women's equality

I remember later that month that I first learned about NOW, the National Organization for Women. It was a group of women who protested for equality in the workforce between women and men. The movement was to allow women and men to have the same jobs as men, to be promoted, and to get the same pay. This excited me. I made it a dream of mine. I had bought myself this book called The Feminine Mystique. I educated myself about this movement and I loved the idea of being able to get out of the house and go into an office. I decided that I wanted to be powerful one day, like Jackie Kennedy; however, I would want to work in an office and be equally as elegant and powerful as she was. This became a dream of mine that I secretly kept inside me for a year or so.

Keeping this secret of wanting to work burned. I felt as if I were doing nothing, just rooting for the women who protested in the streets and held rallies. Therefore, one day I decided to go to one of their hearings near my house, in Pennsylvania.

Going out in the middle of the day to listen to that hearing made me feel rebellious, as if I were betraying my fiancé, Thomas, who was very much into the ways of women staying at home to cook and clean. Even though I felt bad going to this hearing, I felt a rush when I left. I felt that I could make a difference in the way that women were treated when looking for jobs. Seeing all of these other women around me made me feel that I was not alone; I felt that we were an army that supported one another.

When everyone started to leave, there was a desk that read “Become a member and participate” in blue letters on a small white sign. I walked up to this desk and stood behind the line of three women who were also curious about what was on the paper that was being handed out. As each of the women finished signing the paper one by one, I got nervous and was unsure whether to stay in the line or not to stay, not knowing what I would get myself into. The same question kept running through my head: Do I really want to do this? I had to make the decision to stay in line or to walk away. However, I did not think quickly enough because I soon found myself with no one in front of me.

I took two small shaky steps forward and stood an inch away from the desk. I looked at the woman behind the desk. She was about the same age as I was; she had short brown hair and beautiful eye makeup that looked like the eyes of Elizabeth Taylor from the movie Cleopatra. As I took in a breath to say something, the woman spoke and stuck her arm out and said something. I was no longer nervous and was overwhelmed with the background noise of all of the women still leaving the hearing and the feet shuffling on the sidewalk.

“What?” I shouted.

“I’m Lisa. Are you going to be joining us?” the woman asked more loudly.

“I’m not sure. I think so.”

“That’s great.”

She handed me a paper and told me about where the protests were to be held and how to get there. She said that all new members get a free trip to the protest and a free stay at one of their homes that is nearby. I was excited by this news but I was afraid of what Thomas would tell me when he returned from work.

I kept this news to myself for two weeks, and it hurt to keep it in. I hid the fact that I would be joining NOW and that I would be leaving for several weeks to go to the protest in the streets and at rallies, hearings, marches, sit-ins, and legislative sessions. I hid this until two days before I had to go.

I sat him down on the opposite side of the table. That day the breeze had seemed to blow through the house, but now everything seemed still. It was silent, minus the sound of the ticking clock and the occasional cheer of the children who were playing outside. I was nervous as we sat down; I had never felt a summer day feel so cold.

I told Thomas that this is what I wanted and how badly I wanted it. I told him about going to the hearing and about wanting to go to DC for several weeks. I told him that I would be back and how I would have a better chance at being more successful in life and being equal in the workforce. I was so passionate when I told him about the dream that I had. I told him everything from the very beginning, from watching Jackie Kennedy’s White House tour to going to the hearing. All of what was going on around me seemed to disappear. I started to see myself being able to go to work at a good paying job, wearing a business suit, driving myself to work and coming home to dinner that had already been made for me. My heart was racing as I told him these things. Then I looked up, hoping to see the same passion that I had in his eyes, too.

However, I saw something different. All I saw was a blank look. It looked like he was speechless, trying to figure out if I had gone crazy with all of my far-fetched dreams.

Looking at him made me realize that my dreams were like a maze, and I had gotten lost in them, just to find myself at the end with nothing there. This broke my heart, knowing that I could no longer move any farther in my dreams and that I would have to continue making the same food, ironing the same clothes, watching the same I Love Lucy shows again and again. Having the same routine every day, not having a chance to go outside of my house and get a job.

This brought me to tears. It made my heart ache, but nothing could have prepared me for the words that he was about to say: “Get over it. Women are meant to stay at home. That is the way it should be. Don’t get your hopes up.” I could not believe that he had the guts to say that. “Just get over it.”

Those words felt like a stab to the gut that could not be fixed with a first aid kit. Those words tore my heart into pieces that could not be sewn back together. Those words kicked me down. I had jumped wholeheartedly into his arms by telling him about the movement, but it felt as if he had just let me fall. I had expected to be supported with smiles and warm hugs, but he was still sitting on the other side of the table with his hands in his lap, wondering what was wrong with me. He did not realize that the words that he had just said punched me in the stomach and made me feel like I was in the middle of the ocean on a small paddle boat with nothing in sight. I had never felt so alone and distanced from someone who was so close to me. My dreams of this movement were crushed.

Thomas had already left to go to work the next day. I felt that all the things I had said to him last night had already washed away from his memory. Even though he did not agree with me, I had already made my decision. Weeks ago I had bought the tickets to DC, and the tickets were for today.

My motivation was back, and it made me feel like there was thunder and lightning inside of me. I felt powerful. I knew that going to DC to be a part of the movement would be the first step to picking up the pieces of my broken dreams. I wanted equal rights in the workforce. I knew that this would change my life and the lives of many other people.

I began to pack my things. As I put each item in my bag, the realization become more intense that I was about to leave my life and my loved ones. I felt the stress of everything more and more by the time my things were all packed. I felt that I was carrying one hundred fifty pounds. This made me feel so weak that I collapsed onto my bed, feeling as if I could barely breathe. I looked up at the light, then quickly shut my eyes because of how bright it was. But when I closed my eyes, I saw Mrs. Jackie Kennedy. Walking around her home, she was so powerful for those few seconds. I lay still on my bed.

Closing my eyes helped me see my motivation and the reason to move forward. I realized that to take the weight off my shoulders, I would have to leave Thomas behind. I felt a thousand miles away from him, and I had not even left. I knew that I had a group of women from NOW waiting for me in DC, and a husband waiting to come home to a hot plate of food. I felt like a flag hanging from the middle of a tug of war rope being pulled from each end, waiting for a side to pull me one way, but I was stuck.

Several years ago, a strong woman was not a reality that just any woman could achieve.