Dangerous times call for dangerous women | Pat Mitchell

Recently,

I've been declaring to anyone who would listen

that I am a dangerous woman.

(Applause)

Now, declaring that boldly like this

still feels a bit dangerous,

but it also feels right.

At this time in my life,

about to be 77,

I have --

(Applause)

I love when you're applauded for your age --

(Laughter)

but I'll take it.

(Applause)

About to be 77, I realize that I have nothing left to prove,

less to lose,

and I'm more impatient about everything.

The true, slow pace towards equality,

the rise in sexism, racism,

violence against women and girls ...

And I'm angry, too,

at the climate deniers who are stealing the future

from our children and grandchildren.

Friends, we are living in dangerous times.

And such times call for all of us to be more dangerous.

Now, what do I mean by this?

I don't mean being feared.

It's not that kind of dangerous.

But I do mean being more fearless.

I mean speaking the truth

when silence is a lot safer.

I mean speaking up in rooms for those who aren't present,

especially those rooms where decisions are made

about our lives and our bodies.

We need to be in those rooms,

showing up for one another,

challenging the cultural construct

that encourages us, especially women and girls,

to compete, compare,

criticize.

We have to end this.

And speaking out

against the policies and the politics

that divide us and diminish our collective power

as a global community of women,

and the men and the allies

who stand with us.

Becoming dangerous also means embracing whatever risks are necessary

to create a world where women and girls are safe

in their homes and at work,

where all voices are represented

and respected,

all votes counted,

the planet protected.

And this is all possible.

Because we're ready for this.

We're better prepared than any generation ever before us,

better resourced, better connected.

In many parts of the world, we're living longer than ever.

Women over 65 are among the fastest-growing populations on earth,

with the potential for becoming the most powerful, too.

Now --

(Applause)

What a change this represents.

Postmenopausal women like me, not that long ago,

were considered useless

or crazy.

We were valued for caregiving and grandmothering --

and I really love that part.

But we were pushed aside

and expected to retire to our rocking chairs.

Women on the dangerous side of 60

are not retiring.

We are rewiring --

(Applause)

taking all that we know and have done -- and that is a lot --

to redefine what age looks like,

can do, can accomplish.

But becoming dangerous isn't about becoming a certain age,

because at each end of the age spectrum,

brave women and girls are stepping up,

taking the risk to create change.

I became a risk-taker early in my life's journey.

I had to,

or have my life defined by the limitations

for a girl growing up in the rural South,

with no money, no connections,

no influence.

But what wasn't limited

was my curiosity about the world beyond my small town,

beyond the small minds of a still-segregated South,

a world that I glimpsed in the newsreels

at the one movie theater in town,

and a world that got a lot closer to me

when I met Miss Shirley Rountree, my eighth-grade English teacher.

From the minute she walked into the classroom,

her high heels clicking,

she was a woman in charge,

with perfect hair, signature red lips,

colorfully coordinated, head to toe.

I wanted to be her.

Gratefully, she became my first mentor and helped me become me.

With her support, I got a scholarship to college --

the first in my family --

and landed at a big state university,

right in the middle of two great social justice movements:

civil rights for African Americans

and equal rights for women.

I joined both with enthusiasm,

only to discover that my newfound activism

and my fermenting feminism

would often be in direct conflict with my deeply embedded need to please

and be popular.

In my first job as a college teacher, I broke the rules,

and I encouraged students to join me in the protest marches.

And when I found out that my male colleague

with the same experience and education

was being paid more than me,

I mounted a personal protest.

When my raise was denied,

with the excuse that he had a family to support,

so did I as a single mom.

But I dropped my protest to keep my job.

Today, millions of women are making this compromise,

staying in their jobs without equal pay

for equal work.

And as one of the first women on television in the '70s,

I was warned that focusing on women's stories

would limit my career opportunities,

and maybe it did.

But I got to produce and host breakthrough programming for women,

while at the same time,

remaining silent

about sexual harassment

and listening to consultants who were hired to advise me

about my appearance.

"Become a blonde."

I did.

"Lower your voice."

I tried.

"Lower your necklines."

I didn't.

(Laughter)

But I did wear those ugly anchor suits

with those scarves that look something like men's ties.

And later, in the power positions in media,

often as the first or only woman,

aware of being judged through that gender lens,

I struggled from time to time

to find the right balance between being a leader for women

and not being entirely defined as a woman leader.

But today, I'm proud to be known as a woman leader.

(Applause)

As an activist, advocate, feminist

and as a newly declared dangerous woman,

I'm caring less what others say

and saying more clearly what I think and feel.

And let me be clear:

I acknowledge my privilege in being able to do that,

to speak my truth.

And to stand here today

with this opportunity

to talk to you about women and power --

note I did not say "empowered."

I don't think we're waiting to be empowered.

I think we have power.

(Applause)

What we need are more opportunities to claim it, to use it,

to share it.

And yes, I know --

there are women with power who don't use it well or wisely

and who don't share it.

I've heard, as I'm sure you have,

those stories that begin with,

"The worst boss I ever had was a woman ... "

And we could all name women leaders who have not made us proud.

But we can change all of that

with a simple but brilliant idea

that I first heard from a risk-taking, dangerous congresswoman from New York

named Bella Abzug.

Bella said, "In the 21st century,

women will change the nature of power

rather than power changing the nature of women."

From the moment I heard that --

(Applause)

I thought, "This is our call to action.

This is our biggest opportunity."

And as a journalist and an activist,

I've seen this idea in action,

documenting the stories of women on both sides in long-term conflicts,

coming together and defying the official power

to form alliances and find their own ways to ending violence in their communities.

And as an activist, I've traveled to places

where it's dangerous to be born a woman,

like eastern Congo,

where a war is being waged on the bodies of women.

There, at a healing and leadership center called City of Joy,

brave Congolese women are transforming pain into power

by training survivors of sexual assault

to return to their villages as leaders.

And at recent climate summits,

I've observed women climate leaders working behinds the scenes,

out of the public spotlight,

making sure that the negotiations toward global climate agreement

continue to move forward.

So as we move forward in our lives and work

and we have more power and influence,

let's change the nature of power

by dismantling some of the barriers that remain for those who follow

by advocating and agitating

for fairer and truer and more equal representation

in every room and at every table.

Now, be warned:

if you advocate for a woman

for an open position or promotion,

you could be challenged with,

"You're playing the women's card"

or "the race card"

if advocating for a woman of color.

I've had this experience, as I'm sure you have.

"Are you running an affirmative action program here at PBS?"

asked one of my board members when, as a new president,

I announced my first hires as five qualified women.

Now, my affirmative action had been

to ask that the search firm bring me a candidate list

that included the names of women and people of color

who just happened to be, in my judgment,

the best candidates for the position as well.

I say, dangerous women

and our allies:

it's time to play the women's card,

play the race card,

play all our cards.

(Applause)

Not to win the power game,

but to lead to better outcomes

for everyone.

And it's time, too,

to discard that scarcity theory,

the one that says,

there's only room for one of us at the top,

so protect your turf,

don't make friends or allies.

Changing the nature of power

transforms "protect your turf" into "share your turf,"

it encourages coalitions,

it builds alliances,

it strengthens and sustains friendships.

My women friends are my source of renewable energy.

(Applause)

So are my mentors, my champions,

my supporters, my sponsors,

and all of the ways that we can and do show up for each other.

We can become our sources of renewable power

for each other.

And along the way,

we need to take better care of ourselves,

and here, I am not the best role model.

I don't meditate.

I don't exercise regularly.

But I do live aerobically.

(Laughter)

(Applause)

Because I believe we can't be dangerous

from the sidelines,

and there's just too much to be done.

So let's use all our power.

How about the power of money?

Let's allocate more of our philanthropic dollars,

our campaign donations,

our investment funds,

to increase economic and political equity.

And let's leverage the power of media and technology

that we have in our hands, quite literally,

to elevate each other's stories and ideas;

to practice civility;

to seek the truth,

which is diminishing

and is threatening free and open societies.

Yes, we have all that we need to move our communities forward.

And the best thing we have,

and what we must remember,

is to be there for each other.

We will move forward together,

willing now to take more risk,

to be more fearless,

to speak up, speak out

and show up

for one another.

George Bernard Shaw once wrote

that he believed in his opinion that his life belonged to the community,

that the harder he worked, the more he lived

and that he wanted to be thoroughly used up when he died.

He went on to write,

"Life is no brief candle to me

but a splendid torch

that I have got hold of for a moment

before passing to future generations."

I, too, do not view my life as a brief candle,

although I am burning it at both ends.

(Laughter)

And I do want it, and me,

to be thoroughly used up when I die.

But at this point in my life's journey,

I am not passing my torch.

I am holding it higher than ever,

boldly, brilliantly,

inviting you to join me in its dangerous light.

Thank you.

(Applause)