Unfinished Business: A Septuagenarian’s Take on Women’s Rights Progress

What happened to Women’s Liberation?

“You’ve come a long way, baby!” That slogan, originally used to sell cigarettes, became a catchphrase for the Women’s Liberation Movement in the 1960s and ‘70s. It was a nod to the progress women were making—reflecting both genuine change and the way feminism was being packaged for mass appeal. But in 2025, I find myself asking:

What happened to Women’s Liberation? I pose this question to all women in our country and am genuinely interested in the answer. Have we become complacent? Were the gains in equal rights not what we needed or wanted? Will today’s political climate strip those gains away before we realize what’s happening?

First, let’s thank the suffragettes. Women’s Suffrage generally refers to the period from the mid-19th century to the 20th century, when women fought for and won the right to vote in various countries. In the United States, the first major gathering for women’s rights was the 1848 Seneca Falls Convention, organized by Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Lucretia Mott.

Let’s also acknowledge that the fight for women’s rights has always been intertwined with the fight for racial equality—even when some of the leading suffragists failed to recognize that reality. The push for suffrage emerged alongside abolitionism, with both movements declaring that all people are created equal—not just those envisioned by our founding fathers. At the 1851 Women’s Rights Convention in Akron, Ohio, Sojourner Truth delivered her famous Ain’t I a Woman? speech, calling out the hypocrisy of a movement that often prioritized white women while ignoring the struggles of Black women. Even as the 15th Amendment in 1870 granted Black men the right to vote, women—of all races—remained excluded. It wasn’t until 1920, with the ratification of the 19th Amendment, that women were legally granted the right to vote nationwide.

And voting rights were only part of the battle. In the years leading up to suffrage and beyond, women pushed for education, employment, property rights, financial independence, and reproductive freedom. Activists like Margaret Sanger and Alice Paul fought for rights many of us take for granted today. In 1916, Sanger was arrested for opening the first birth control clinic in the U.S., defying laws that made contraception illegal; her later legal victory allowed doctors to prescribe birth control, laying the foundation for reproductive autonomy. Meanwhile, in 1923, Paul drafted the Equal Rights Amendment (ERA), asserting that the Constitution should explicitly guarantee equal rights regardless of sex—a fight that continues to this day.

Visit the New York Assembly website (www.nyassembly.gov) or search New York Assembly Abolitionist and Women’s Rights Movements to learn more.

My point here is that these early activists laid the groundwork for the long battle to gain full women’s equality that continues today.

 To borrow from a K.T. Oslin song, I am a girl of the ‘50s and an ‘80s Lady.

Growing up in the 1950s, I watched my mother make breakfast for my father and send him off to work with a sandwich in his lunchbox every morning of his working life. She then fed me and my brothers before school. She made sure there was dinner on the table shortly after my father returned home from work. After supper, Mom cleared the table, washed the dishes, and cleaned the kitchen while the rest of us relaxed in front of the television.

Her routine wasn’t special. Every mother I knew did this. Their role was to care for their husbands and children and to keep a good house, while the men worked to provide for the family.

I don’t know if Mom or other neighborhood mothers ever wished to work outside the home or pursue other interests; it simply wasn’t discussed in working-class America. Dad didn’t earn enough money for much more than the essentials, so I do recall Mom tending bar at night when we needed extra money, like for braces. Even then, she had dinner prepared in advance; all I had to do was heat it up, serve my father and brothers, then clear the table and wash the dishes. That was a woman’s work. The boys had their own duties—mowing the lawn, changing the oil in the car. Each of us was being trained for our roles in society.

Then the 1970s arrived, and everything seemed to change.

Women were heading to college, demanding careers, refusing to be confined to the home. “You’ve come a long way, baby!”

At 18, I graduated from high school in 1970 and started college, where I experienced the Women’s Movement firsthand. I met women returning to college after raising their children, women pursuing careers, and women seeking future husbands. This exposure pushed me to think beyond the narrow suburban world in which I was raised.

Women were no longer content to let men make major decisions for us. They refused to accept that men knew what was best. They wanted equal pay for equal work. They wanted to be heard and to be taken seriously. They wanted to choose whether to be stay-at-home moms or to have a career. They wanted to decide whether or not to get pregnant. They wanted control over their bodies. After years of suppression, women wanted it all! And we quickly learned that we couldn’t have it all without sacrifice and struggle.

Title IX

Women recognized that progress required partnership, not division and learned to compromise and collaborate with men rather than throw them aside. This approach got us the enactment of Title IX in 1972, a landmark law that prohibits sex discrimination in educational settings receiving federal funding. Title IX encompasses protection against sexual harassment and mandates equal treatment for all genders in educational environments—at least in principle.

Title IX came too late for me. As a girl, I didn’t have the opportunity to play softball or basketball in a school league. We had intramural games, but nothing truly competitive. I would have loved to play baseball or softball, but my closest experience was playing baseball in the vacant lot with neighborhood kids. We never had enough for full teams, so we played work-up or three-on-three. I loved it. But, I digress…

In the past twelve years, I’ve watched my granddaughter compete alongside boys on a baseball team before transitioning to softball in school. She also played on the school basketball team. Her experiences highlight the progress we’ve made since Title IX’s passage. The law opened doors and removed barriers for girls and women, leading to a significant increase in female participation in sports. However, disparities persist. Girls still miss out on an estimated one million sports participation opportunities compared to boys, and female athletes often receive inferior facilities, uniforms, and equipment. 

In recent years, investigations have revealed significant disparities between men’s and women’s athletic facilities in colleges. For instance, during the 2021 NCAA Division I Basketball Championships, the men’s teams had access to state-of-the-art weight rooms, while the women’s teams were provided with minimal equipment—a single rack of dumbbells and yoga mats. This stark contrast, highlighted by an athlete’s viral video, sparked widespread criticism and led the NCAA to commission an independent gender equity review. These are championship teams from big name schools.

After the situation was exposed, things improved for the women athletes. But why did they have to wait? Why didn’t the law passed in 1972 guarantee immediate improvement? Perhaps Title IX wasn’t taken seriously because women didn’t make a fuss. The law was on the books, but women’s sports just weren’t important enough to take away any of the funding from the men’s teams.

Roe v. Wade

Title IX was only one aspect of our feminist freedoms.

Roe v. Wade, decided in 1973, legalized abortion nationwide. Before this landmark ruling, options for women facing unwanted pregnancies were severely limited. Regardless of the circumstances, they had to carry the pregnancy to term and either raise the child (often alone and often in shame) or give the baby up for adoption. Alternatively, they could marry the father if he was willing; however, in many cases, the father was unaware there was even a pregnancy. Consequently, it was typically the woman who dropped out of school and disappeared from public view. Surely, some women sought unsafe, illegal abortions, risking their health and lives. Contrary to common misconceptions, I don’t know any women who have used abortion as a form of birth control. The women I know who have had abortions did not make the decision lightly.

Roe v. Wade gave women much more control and autonomy over their bodies and lives. 

The Equal Rights Amendment

Along with reproductive rights, women wanted equality in all areas of our lives, leading to the revival of the Equal Rights Amendment (ERA). The ERA would guarantee equal rights under the law for all people, regardless of sex. It would clarify that sex discrimination is a violation of constitutional rights in many areas, including employment, education, reproductive rights, and access to healthcare. The ERA would also give courts a basis to apply the principle that all people are guaranteed equal justice under the law. Although Congress passed the ERA in 1972, it has not been fully ratified by the required number of states to become part of the U.S. Constitution. Even without full ratification, the ERA has influenced legal protections against sex-based discrimination in areas such as employment and education. Nonetheless, many of our rights today are grounded in the principles of the ERA, leading to legal prohibitions against sex-based discrimination.

Title IX, Roe v. Wade, and the ERA were all national wins for the women’s movement. Meanwhile, as I was beginning to understand the ramifications of our changing world, I faced daily reminders that women still weren’t seen as equal to men. Some were subtle; others, like my experience with car insurance, were impossible to ignore.

When my husband, at 23, received a ticket for an illegal right-hand turn, our car insurance company canceled our policy. I, 21, called to get a policy in my own name, only to be told that, as a married woman, I was no longer eligible. My husband was considered the ‘head of the household,’ which meant I could only be insured under his policy. Just six months prior, when I was single, I had my own insurance. But now, I was legally considered an extension of my husband.

I rationally explained that we each had a car, and he didn’t drive my car. I drove it to college, to the store, and generally anywhere I needed to go. The agent politely replied that it was assumed my husband had access to all vehicles and, in fact, he was considered to be the primary driver of all vehicles. I tearfully pleaded and was gently but firmly denied. My financial independence—something I had before marriage—had been erased by default.

These systemic limitations extended beyond insurance. Every utility bill was in my husband’s name. I was never asked if I would like my name on the accounts. When we signed our income tax forms, I always had to sign on the bottom line. If a girlfriend and I went out to a bar for a drink, invariably we were hit on by some randy guy, and when we explained that we were married and not interested in extracurricular activities, he couldn’t comprehend why we were there without our husbands. The response was a sneering, “What are you doing here without your husband?” My husband, of course, was never asked why he was in a bar without his wife. It would have been unthinkable.

Birth control wasn’t widely available to women until the 1960s, and even then, most forms required a doctor’s prescription. I remember having to see my gynecologist every six months for a pelvic exam just to renew my birth control pills. He said that he wasn’t happy about it, but it was a regulation he had to follow. The underlying assumption? Women weren’t capable of managing contraception without being invaded unnecessarily by a medical professional, who was usually a man in those days.

Looking Back, Looking Forward: Are We Still Moving?

I know we’ve come a long way since those days. I have credit cards in my name, I’ve taken out loans on my own, and every utility bill now includes both names. I sign the tax returns on the top line. 

So, what happened?  Why do I feel that women are fading back into the background, losing ground with our hard-earned rights? Why do I feel like other women have undermined the changes that have been made in the past fifty years? 

To answer that, I need to clarify a few things. First, these are my own observations. While others may share my opinions, I’m not presenting research, interviews, or studies—just what I’ve witnessed. Second, the women’s movement did not result in a unified group of women with identical desires or beliefs. Although unity was a goal, the reality was more complex, reflecting diverse perspectives and experiences within the movement.

Since the 1960s, the movement has challenged traditional roles and demanded equal rights. Women fought for financial independence, securing the right to apply for credit cards and mortgages in their own names. They challenged workplace harassment, marital rape, and domestic violence, issues once dismissed as private matters. In fact, until relatively recently, a woman could not legally be raped by her husband. Domestic abuse, while frowned upon, was rarely challenged.

Two Steps Forward…

The Civil Rights Act of 1964 prohibited employment discrimination based on race, color, religion, national origin, and sex. 

In 1966, activists founded the National Organization for Women (NOW) to fight sex discrimination. Today, NOW is the largest women’s rights organization in the U.S., continuing its work in reproductive healthcare, economic justice, and the fight to end violence against women.

…Three Steps Back?

The ERA, first introduced in 1923, gained momentum in the 1970s. Congress passed it in 1972, but the amendment required ratification by 38 states. By 1977, only 35 states had ratified it, and despite a deadline extension, it fell short. Activists accepted defeat, even as more women gained positions in politics and law, achieving many of the ERA’s goals through legislation rather than constitutional amendment.

Even in the early suffrage movement, activists had to convince the public that women deserved the vote. Anti-suffragists warned that female voters would neglect their families, abandon domestic duties, and become “less virtuous” and “more masculine.” The fight for women’s rights has always faced backlash from those who fear change.

In the 1960s and ‘70s, conservative activist Phyllis Schlafly led opposition to the ERA, arguing it would lead to women being drafted and the creation of unisex bathrooms (a fear that, today, seems almost laughable). In 1980, following Schlafly’s lead, the Republican Party officially withdrew its support for the ERA.

Today, with movements like #MeToo, the Women’s March, and the record number of women serving in Congress, the ERA is back in the spotlight. In 2020, Virginia became the 38th state to ratify it—but legal challenges persist, arguing that the ratification deadline has long since passed. Whether the ERA becomes law is now in the hands of legal experts, Congress, and the courts. Its fate may determine the future of not just women’s rights but the rights of other marginalized groups.

Opposition to the ERA today primarily stems from concerns that it could strengthen abortion rights, eliminate sex-segregated spaces like bathrooms and sports teams, and potentially undermine programs designed to benefit women, while religious organizations and corporate interests continue to fund efforts to block its recognition.

Are we surrendering our progress? Are we failing to protect what was so hard-won?

Women’s Rights, Civil Rights, and the Fight for Constitutional Protection

Women’s liberation has always been part of broader civil rights struggles—including racial justice and LGBTQ+ rights—because the core belief is simple: all people deserve equal rights under the law, no matter their gender, race, or identity. 

But just as progress has been made, opposition has followed. Some argue that feminism, diversity, and political correctness have gone too far, threatening “traditional” values, believing the “real” family structure consists of a male husband/father and a female wife/mother. 

This resistance isn’t new; past opponents of civil rights fought to maintain racial segregation and outlaw homosexuality, just as today’s liberation movements face attempts to reverse reproductive rights, LGBTQ+ protections, and affirmative action. 

The ACLU continues to fight sex-based discrimination at the state and federal levels, challenging policies that restrict women’s economic independence, workplace opportunities, and personal autonomy. From outdated workplace dress codes and hiring discrimination to financial barriers and reproductive rights, the ACLU’s advocacy helps shape legal protections for gender equality in the U.S.. Without explicit legal protections, progress stalls—or worse, reverses.