The rotunda carnival was the same today with lots of crazy-making people and all the little fasters all in a row. For some reason, or no reason, we have been sitting in the exact same order every day. I am the last on the left which puts the elevator to my right. Throngs of people pour past me, most of them with food and drinks. We have placed ourselves precisely where and when people are on a mission for their lunch. I can smell it all, right down to the dill pickles.
And so we sit. The crowds buzz around us with their opinions and judgments, always just loud enough for us to hear clearly. They seem to be in two distinct groups. They hate us and think we are actually mad and wicked or they think we are sainted. Neither of them is true which leaves me feeling isolated and sad. It isn’t that I want them to know who I really am, but I want them to know that we are women, ordinary women. We are their sisters, aunts, mothers, wives, teachers, nurses, neighbors who are unrecognized and disregarded first class citizens. We are the seven who are here and the rest of us, the millions of us, are at work in factories, in hospitals, in schools and homes all over this country. Many women in America will make and eat dinner tonight because if they don’t, they will put themselves and their children in danger.
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