Appreciation: Gloria Steinem was a rock star of revolution

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Set us as preferred Ten years ago, I went with my older daughter and a group of her classmates to see Gloria Steinem speak.Though they were part of a feminist group recently formed at their all-girls Catholic high school, some were not quite sure who Gloria was, exactly.

My daughter knew her mostly as my former “boss”; my first job out of college had been as an editorial assistant at Ms.magazine.

That was back in the ‘80s — ancient history.I was a tiny bit nervous about how the evening would go.Gloria herself was in her 80’s by then; how would she connect with a group of teenagers who had come of age post-post-everything in a social media world of makeup tutorials, fit checks, and so much rage bait?By being precisely herself, as it turned out.

Calm and witty, impassioned and informed, clear-eyed yet hopeful, Gloria enthralled them — and the entire audience — for almost two hours.By the time we left, the girls were ready to follow her anywhere.“She’s a rock star,” my daughter breathed.That she was.

Gloria Steinem did not invent feminism, not even its second wave, but for many years she was its most recognizable frontwoman.Tall, slender, with (for many years) aviator glasses framed by her signature long, straight hair, she was the Jackie Kennedy of the women’s movement: a physical dismissal of all those childish critics who deride feminists as an army of unlovely and unloved women, devoid of humor and, most likely, surrounded by far too many cats.Attending the 50th anniversary of Ms.

last week, I thought I would find anger and regret.Instead I found memories of an anti-toxic office culture.Even so, how she looked was beside the point.

No feminist I know ever wanted to look like Gloria; we all wanted to be like her.Smart, funny, incisive, generous and, perhaps above all, unflappable.For an activi...