so many shattered glass slippers

 

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It’s about TIME.  Well done, TIME magazine for recognizing change makers and bringing them to the forefront. The change makers who chose not to be victims any longer and cast off the shattered glass slippers of shame and fear and are speaking out.  Well done.

Here we are at a time when women can have amazing careers. Not trying to be men; trying to be successful in their own right as women and doing very well at it.  The glass ceiling if not shattered has been hiked up by trailblazers.  And we thank them.

Once upon a time a man could barge into a private office and stand over her desk and fondle his penis through his pants as he ranted at her.  He hated her and let her know it. Seated in her chair with her back to the wall and no way out, the man laughed as he had his say.  And he did it again. And again. The woman told the senior executives about it.  Continue reading

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potato soup

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The smell of potato soup wafts up from the stove as I hold the seven week old baby girl tucked to my chest, rocking back and forth to try to get her to stop crying. And shivering.  She is shivering. With my free arm, I stir and stir and stir the soup with the big broken metal spoon that I found in the cutlery drawer with a few stray spoons and forks and crumbs.  The spoon grates against the pot with each pass through the thin soup. I can’t let it burn; it’s all there is to eat in the house.

I hadn’t thought of the family for years but they came rushing back to me with all the desperation and fear and hopelessness from so long ago.  With a thick, creamy soup simmering on my stove; bacon, onions, potatoes, rich and creamy, I caught a memory as I lifted the lid to check and stir. Continue reading