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Bryn Mawr College, a small liberal arts women’s college, was in the early 1970’s a hotbed of feminism: Kate Millett and Adrienne Rich were scholars-in-residence there. For extra-curricular activity, we students bought speculums and hand-mirrors and explored our own vaginas. We were fearless young women who thought we could do it all, we could have it all. An early Suffragette president of the college said that marriage was a "…loss of freedom, poverty, and a personal subjection for which I see absolutely no compensation." She was often quoted as saying, “Only our failures marry.” Actually it was a misquote; what she said was, “Our failures only marry,” but who cares? The first version was the one seared on our brains.
When I went to the 2nd year reunion, I was the only Mawrter in my class who was married. Classmates didn’t know what to say to me. They invited me back for the 10th reunion to speak on a panel; I represented the point of view of wife and mother of three children. I wasn’t asked to say anything, and no one asked me questions. I was simply Exhibit A.
It upset me more than I wanted to admit. When I got home I told my husband, and he was sympathetic but, being party to the crime, what could he say? I gnawed on my discomfort for years. I wasn’t moved to attend any more reunions.
For the 20th reunion, my mother, a graduate of 25 years earlier, and my daughter, looking at colleges for herself, decided to go together. So I did, too. I was 41 years old and sandwiched by my kin.
At a break-out meeting of my classmates, the conversation zeroed in on life choices and consequences. The room was full of professionals, doctorates, and directors, sitting on the floor, perched on arms, and filling the windowsills. The conversation zeroed in on life choices and consequences, and there was a high level of tension. My class for the first time spoke as a generation, one in a sequence of generations, and the women were expressing the frustration of not being able to have it all. Of having had to make choices, and there was some second guessing going on. A woman said quietly, “I can’t have children now. Those of you who got married and had children while you were young, you were the smart ones.” My eyes got big and I glanced around the room. There was no cynicism, no rebuttal, only silence.
Finally, a woman who was single and a professional, spoke angrily, “I blame it on Bryn Mawr College! It was a conspiracy so that we wouldn’t have heirs and we will leave our wealth to the College!”
Since then I haven’t been back to another reunion. I’m quite certain I would enjoy meeting and seeing women who have led interesting lives, and I’m sure they would ask about mine. For some reason that I don’t want to poke with a long stick, I think I’m just too busy living my life.