PAST >>> TITLE IX >>> FUTURE >>> ?

For one hour this morning I looked into the past and the future and marveled at both.

In 1972 I was a young adult, teaching school and pretty sure the world needed changing. A single Mom with a daughter, I was a firm feminist - a title I am still proud to claim today. Much of that world is now so out of date as to seem weird and unbelievable to women today. I never wore pants to school. In fact, the big issue for female teachers in 1972 was whether we might be allowed to wear nice, matching pantsuits instead of dresses in which to teach. (The results were mixed for many more years.) And we were still paid on a different and lesser pay scale.

Then there was sports. The oldest of three girls, competitive sports weren't discouraged; they just didn't exist in our universe. Because we were encouraged to be active, be outdoors, be educated and think for ourselves, I quite sure had any of us wanted to participate in sports we would have been supported. But it is a measure of the prevailing social beliefs and norms that the seed was never even planted.

I was well into adulthood before the movie "A League of Their Own" taught me that my hometown had female sports heroes. But like other outliers - Babe Didrikson Zaharius, Iowa six-on-six half court basketball, the many, many valiant women PE teachers etc. - they are admired in retrospect.

By 1972 I may still not have seen myself in sports, but I most assuredly saw the discrimination. Like many teachers, I was dragooned into coaching a girl's JV volleyball team; a position for which I was eminently unqualified but earnest. My friend, the female varsity coach, had plenty to share about the state of women's sports.

Then Title IX passed Congress.

Like all such legislation, the next years were spent working out the actual rules under which the legislation would proceed. Already a passionate leader in women's issues, I became part of the State of Illinois Task Force which drafted and submitted recommendations for the final rules.

I don't remember the myriad issues involved in the minutia of rule making that lasted for several years. Someday I'll pull out the files again and wonder at the details.

But I remember the fire, the feelings and the hope.

We wanted the next generation of girls to play sports. We wanted them to get equal chances at equipment, facility time, quality coaching, fair scheduling and crowds of eager spectators; watching not because they were girls, but because they were good.

The rules took effect. Life moved on. I moved across the country to a new job; organizing and advocating for other causes. My daughter played some sports, grew up, became her own style of feminist, woman and mother. All my grandchildren play sports.

Then today, courtesy of Dr. Heather Van Mullem and Lewis Clark State College, I had the opportunity to both review the past and visit the future of Title IX. In a burst of "I wonder what ever happened..." I attended a public presentation on Title IX, the current status of women in sports administration and coaching.

In a room where the others were (way) post-Title IX babies, I listened with pleasure at the huge strides made and listened philosophically to the the road not yet traversed. Millions of girls now play sports and have opportunities of which my generation only dreamed. A truly WOW moment.

Yes, there still is a glass ceiling into administration and coaching. Yes, the sports/business model (in my opinion an anti-education model for all student athletes) seems to have absorbed women's sports. Yes, the vast majority of colleges still don't really meet all the Title IX requirements. Yes, the impact on minor sports - men's and women's - was an unanticipated downside of the big three major sports unrestrained consumption of resources.

Yet...

I can see a future in which women who have played sports want their daughters to have the same opportunities; in which women who work in sports continue to press for equality and the shattering of the glass ceiling; in which women like Heather care enough about both sport and women in sport to focus on what good has come and what good needs yet to happen.

And I am confident that while perfection is always out of reach, progress in never-ending.

In 2006, 2007 and 2008 my efforts to defeat cancer and support the wonderful work of the Lance Armstrong Foundation were focused on the Portland LiveStrong Challenge in which I rode my bicycle and raised funds.

As many of you know, I choose to skip the Challenge in 2009 in order to focus my work as a Local LiveStrong Leader on building a grassroots organization in the Lewiston-Clarkston Valley. Now an active and growing group - http://www.lewisclarklivestrong.org/ - I am once again turning my attention to fundraising via the LiveStrong Challenge. But this time for the grandaddy Challenge - Austin, Texas 2010, home base of the Lance Armstrong Foundation.

AND I NEED YOUR HELP TO REACH MY GOAL!

Consider this:
** 1.4 million Americans are expected to be diagnosed with cancer this year.
**Nearly 1 in 2 men and 1 in 3 women will develop cancer during their lifetime.
**By 2010 (that's NOW!) cancer is likely to replace heart disease as the leading cause of death in the United States. It's already the biggest killer of those under the age 85.

Please contribute to my LiveStrong Challenge Ride and help the Lance Armstrong Foundation continue to provide SurvivorCare, access to screening, educational materials, local grants and investment in research.

http://austin2010.livestrong.org/marciabanta

DEFINING LIVESTRONG

Last night I began reading a lovely small book, "Becoming Myself: Reflections on Growing Up Female" edited by Willa Shalit. Impressive and moving in the generousity of the women sharing stories, the very first story by Maya Angelou spoke directly to my passion fighting with and for people battling cancer; although cancer is nowhere mentioned. What she does include is a wonderful poem by Edna St. Vincent Millay. It is entitled "Conscientious Objector" but it envinces in me a perfect definition of LiveStrong.

I shall die, but

that is all I shall do for Death.

I hear him leading his horse out of the stall;

I hear the clatter on the barn-floor.

He is in haste; he has business in Cuba,

business in the Balkans, many calls to make this morning.

But I will not hold the bridle

while he cinches the girth.

And he may mount by himself:

I will not give him a leg up.

Though he flick my shoulders with his whip,

I will not tell him which way the fox ran.

With his hoof on my breast, I will not tell him where

the black boy hides in the swamp.

I shall die but that is all I shall do for Death;

I am not on his pay-roll.

I will not tell him the whereabouts of my friends

nor of my enemies either.

Though he promise me much,

I will not map him the route to any man's door.

Am I a spy in the land of the living,

that I should deliver men to Death?

Brother, the passwords and the plans of our city

are safe with me; never through me shall you be overcome.

COURAGE

On the front it reads "I'm Dying". On the back it reads "So Are You." And thus another warrior in the battle against some insidious disease announces their awareness that, for them, the end of the fight is near. A combination of spitting into the wind and remaining part of humanity by reminding others that each of us faces the same destiny.

Beyond the wry smile of acknowledgement, I am often struck by the audacity of the display...and all that goes with such self-knowledge.

Cancer has been a frequent intruder in my life. And seldom can a day pass without all of us seeing or hearing stories of those who battle some disease; stories that tug at our hearts or moisten our eyes.

But acknowledgment of the final reality, the loss of options, the sureness of outcome, the awareness of sooner rather than later; that is not a failure of hope, but a true and precious courage.

Benj had breast cancer. When the certainty of death was near, she spent every minute of time, every ounce of energy and every breath of determination to ensure her family was not only with her on the path but taken care of in the future. In public she was composed, thoughtful and organized. She had set a goal that required her to both acknowledge and act. Surely not easy, it was my first brush the exhibition of courage when seeing your death near.

Debbie's cancer was obscenely quick from diagnosis to death. From her hospital bed she completed a quilt for each of her sons, wrote letters and thoughts and fought to keep meaning in her life while facing death. Such acts required awesome strength of will.

Now, as I work with the LiveStrong cancer community, I am privileged to see and know others who defiantly acknowledge the nearness of death but continue to live. Who make painful, but necessary decisions. Who often even seek to provide comfort to the rest of us or guidance on the roads forward.

What else could you call that but courage?

FEEDING THE SOUL

Sometimes all we can do to feed our soul are the actions of everyday living; reaching out and embracing what is possible in our own limited sphere. Today's multiple famines were fed by ordinary acts.

Worried about a friend whose diagnosis should have come yesterday, I tore apart the remains of the garden leaving bare ground prepared but not yet fertile for spring planting. Looking ahead with hope.

Concerned about the impact of the loss of a LiveStrong support group member, I accompanied the group facilitator, my husband, to a memorial celebration filled with both laughter and tears. Coming together for comfort.

Engaged in a search for a way to wrap up the day with optimism, we watch Pete Seeger's 90th birthday celebration from Madison Square Garden agog at the talent and fierce dedication to freedom, justice and equality. Joining voices because we are all one.

Feeding the cat of a friend hours away enduring chemo, tweeting what I hope to be encouraging words to other survivors fighting and hurting, sharing the wonder of the sound of wind and rain as night moves in and the weather changes.

Taking a deep breath of wonder and peace at the end of the day.

Small kernels to feed the soul.

TED KENNEDY...LIVESTRONG

Each death is like a rock chip flung into the armour of cancer survivors. You know exactly where it came from, but it's a hurtful surprise anyway. Ted Kennedy represented many hopes for many people over the years. And his valiant fight against cancer, both the disease and the health care system in which it occurred, was fierce and loud as well as quiet and compassionate. Ted, Bruce, Larry, Benj, Debbie, Rhonda, Charlie, Jackson. Too many. Too many to come.

The numbers are a stark reality. Today, 33,000 people around the world will be diagnosed with cancer. By 2010 cancer will be the leading cause of death worldwide. By 2020 more than 10 million people will die from cancer every year. By 2050, 27 million new cases and more than 17 million deaths.

Currently, every day in the United States, more than 1500 people die of cancer. 1 in 2 men and 1 in 3 women in the US will be diagnosed with cancer in their lifetime.

Yet hope lives. Ted Kennedy said in 1980, "For all those whose cares have been our concern, the work goes on, the cause endures, the hope still lives, and the dream shall never die."

In 2008, Kennedy had not given up, renewing his and our determination once more when he said, "The work begins anew. The hope rises again. And the dream lives on."

It is worth noting that Kennedy always paired "hope" with "work".

So beyond our grief, Kennedy's death is a renewed call to action. For each cancer survivor, for every friend and family member, it's immediate and personal. It is a safe bet that each of you out there has been touched.

What are you waiting for? What world will you live in? What world will your children and grandchildren inherit?

Visit http://www.livestrongaction.org/. Join the 1,337,385 (and counting) people around the world uniting to fight for a world without cancer. Right now.

Dream. Hope. Work.

PALIN & PELOSI

What are women to learn from the two most prominent women in politics in 2009?

First there are the contrasts: Palin is old school, sweetheart queen, barely educated, appeal to the emotions and cry if you don't get your own way. Pelosi is smart, savvy, pay your dues, play with the big boys and best them at their own game.

Both strategies come in for huge criticism from the opposing camp; especially the men. Palin never makes it into the big boys club and suffers the casual derision that masquerades as a pedestal while never being taken completely seriously. Pelosi is respected and even feared as a player but never accorded human female status and suffers the awed but equally derisive admiration of skill but "I wouldn't want to have her as a mother/wife."

And what does the striking similarity - careful, impeccable dressing - say?

While I am sure that there are friends and family who know the multidimensional women Palin and Pelosi, most of the world sees the one dimensional reflection in the face of the powerful and the media.

Perhaps those reflections are accurate. But it is more likely that they are partly true, partly false and wholly a product of our continuing inability to move women, especially public women, into the human race with all its variety of roles, looks, opinions and relationships.

What can we learn from the two most prominent women in politics in 2009? That the fight for equality is far from won.