When you’re young, you’re thinking, 'Where are the boys?' The boys are with Bernie,”- Gloria Steinem on "Real Time With Bill Maher"
I remember it well. It was 2008, and I was in the fifth grade. I had my backpack on and was standing in the doorway of my classroom by the cubbies. I was wearing a shirt from the Barack Obama campaign rally at UCLA I had attended one day prior.
I was a girl who had grown up with CNN blaring in the background. I was a girl who said two of her first words, Bill Clinton, after hearing her first State of the Union address at her grandparents' house. I was a girl who loved politics: the urgency, the passion, The West Wing esque idea of democracy that had not yet been corrupted. When my mom took me to this Barack Obama rally at the Pauley Pavilion, it was one of the most exciting days of my life.
It wasn't just that I got to see Stevie Wonder, Oprah Winfrey, Maria Shriver, and best of all, get Michelle Obama's autograph, but it was the fact that I felt like I was a part of something bigger than myself. I felt excited about the possibility of hope and change. I felt excited about a candidate who was a charismatic and inspiring speaker. I felt excited about the issues Barack Obama spoke passionately about: allowing women the autonomy to decide what to do with their own bodies, making sure every child in our country would have access to a good public school education, creating more legislation to reduce carbon emissions and stop global warming, banning the sales of semi-automatic weapons, and insuring every American had access to health care. And to top it all off, I felt excited about the possibility of having the first black president, the first black democratic nominee for president for that matter, in our country's history.
So there I stood on a Monday, outside of my fifth grade classroom. A girl in my class came up to me and said,
"If you don't support Hillary Clinton, you don't support women, Kate."