What is Representation?

Here’s the truth, I didn’t pay much attention to representation until it affected me.  I was born a heterosexual, cisgender, white, middle-class woman.  I have my health.  I gave birth to three robust and wonderful children.  I earned my bachelor’s and master’s degrees.  I had a job as a director at a prestigious, world renowned university. 

So, I continued on my way.  On the outside (and the inside), life was good.  Then three women, sages, in their 50s came to me and said, “Heed our warning, wait until you turn 50. You shall become invisible.”  I cackled, “Not me. Look around, I am happily married.  I’ve raised two and a third kids [Molly and Kelly were adults, and Jack was seven]. My job was secure.”

I’d paid my dues (another story), so I was meant to skate into my retirement years.  I’d retire from the university at 62 with full compensation and benefits.  My kids would be out of the house, and David and I could buy an Air Stream and travel. We could go back to his home in Spain and live there for the summers if we wanted to. 

And until these conversations happened, I’d been content to go down the road most travelled.   Call it tenacity.  Call it stupidity.  Call it ego.  Call it contrary.  My decision to go back to school to get my PhD could have been based on all these things.  One thing for sure, I was not going to go gently into that good night.  

I’d gotten my PhD in 2017, and I’d been forced to retire from the university I’d worked at for 30 years.  From 2017 to 2019, I slept.  The PhD program kicked my ass. Plus, being dismissed from the university traumatized me.  Charles Dickens said it best in his novel, A Tale of Two Cities, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of light, it was the season of darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair.” For two years, I floundered in the worst of times, the age of foolishness, the season of darkness, and the winter of despair. 

The original five stages of grief include denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.  Most people felt that this was a linear process from denial to acceptance.  Yet rarely are things linear in life.  I started out by denying the impact of the PhD program and being let go from the university had on me.  Further, I rejected the story that my gender and age affected my standing in the world. 

I awoke in 2019 pissed. I’d skipped over the bargaining stage and went straight to anger, where I remain today.  And this is how Representation Rebellion was born.  I wanted to create a community of women like me who are sick and tired of being silenced.  I wanted a space for women to tell their stories and quiet the tall tales the system tells about us.     Please join us disruptors by signing up for the Representation Rebellion newsletter and commenting on these blogs.