There’s a land that I see where the
children are free, and I say it ain’t far from the land where we are. Come with me, take my hand and we’ll live…in
a land where you and me are free to be, you and me.
If you recognize
this musical lyric, then you were most likely raised in America in the early
70’s, and there’s a good chance you were a girl. This verse is from the opening
song to a compilation of stories and songs published in 1972 that worked to
promote gender equality, celebrate individual differences and encourage
tolerance. The idea came from the
actress and social activist, Marlo Thomas (That
Girl, at the time) who apparently was looking for stories for her young niece
yet couldn’t find anything that lived up to the values she wanted to instill. With the help of Gloria Steinem’s then
nascent Ms. Foundation for Women, Thomas recruited a crew of stars to
collaborate, lend their name to and back the project. Mel Brooks, Carl Reiner, Harry Belafonte,
Carole Channing, Shel Silverstein, Alan Alda, Sheldon Harnick were among the
luminaries involved.
It’s stunning
to me that with this star power behind it, the album has not been more
enduring. A few of us have passed it on, but in terms of
broad impact, it seems to have lasted about one generation at best. Musicals
and movies from this period involving lesser known names and more mundane
themes have had a more lasting following among a broader audience than Free to be You and Me.
Perhaps,
as one friend remarked to me, the message was soon no longer needed. Today, boys playing with dolls isn’t a big
deal. More realistically, I expect, the
practical implications of the message were too easy to sweep under the rug and
ignore. And, while we loved our
daughters being raised with Free to be
You and Me’s message, fewer were comfortable exposing their sons.
I
can’t say that my mother was much of a feminist – if she was, she kept it to
herself, my father –certainly not; but, somehow I came into possession of the
book and record. I was 7 years old when
it came out, and I consider it to be one of the first examples of pop culture
that I was aware would shape my identity. The themes, the stories, they struck a chord
with me. I listened to it endlessly.
This was a
world I was going to experience: one in which gender did not determine how I
acted or what I would grow up to be; one where having to wear white gloves need
not confine me to the expectations of being a quiet and obedient “lady;” one in
which differences instead of conformity were valued. One in which boys can cry and girls can be
firemen. One in which young girls could
train to be a brave knight and then go off traveling the world instead of leaving
adventure behind to put on a dress and get married. I remember imagining how my life would be so
different from the one generations of women before me experienced.
On
the one hand, my world is very different then that which generations before me
encountered. The very fact that I stand
here on this bema doing this job is testament to that fact. There were no women in the Rabbinate or the
Cantorate when I first listened to Marlo Thomas and her crew. I may have grown up watching independent
single women such as That Girl, Mary
Tyler Moore, and that other Rhoda, but
there were few women in my world living out that vision. It was still, in large part, a TV land
fantasy. And even then, That Girl had to have Donald, the
perpetual fiancé in the background; and, so much of Mary and Rhoda’s adventures
were consumed with dating and finding a mate.
Our world has
certainly changed. Today, women are
welcome in an array of professions that my mother couldn’t have imagined. I recall an interview with the comedienne
Jane Curtin where she commented that while she worked steadily, in the public
eye even, throughout the 70’s, she couldn’t, as a women, get a credit card in
her own name. Yes, the world has changed. But, in so many ways, our world is not nearly
different enough from the year Free to be
You and Me was published.
Phrases like
“man up” still pepper our dialogue. Lack
of parity exists in salaries for men and women working in the same professions. And, despite Carol Channing’s insistence that
everyone hates housework, even the “lady we see smiling on TV,” women still
find themselves burdened with the lion’s share of household duties even as they
have entered the paid workforce in greater numbers. Studies indicate that in cases where women do
less housework, it isn’t so much due to a sharing of tasks, but rather the
tasks now don’t get done.
Why over four
decades after the publication and release of Free to be You and Me are we still grappling with the very issues
it strove to tackle? I believe a large
reason is that most of its listeners were girls. In an
attempt to obtain some anecdotal evidence on this matter, I turned to
Facebook. Out of 48 women who responded
to my query (by 11 PM last night), 43 knew of the project. Most of them replied with enthusiastic
comments such as “loved it,” “raised my kids on it,” or “still singing
it.” Only 24 men responded, a possible
sign in and of itself that it was less known or less memorable among men; though,
clearly that is just conjecture. Of
those 24, 13 recalled it and 11 did not.
A couple claimed to grow up with it.
While this is far from a scientific study -- the PhD part of my brain is screaming:
“how dare I put this in my sermon,” -- it
does appear to indicate that girls were far more likely to be have been raised on
these songs then boys. Interestingly,
too, one 19-year old woman, born of course long after its release, replied that
she heard about it in a Women’s Studies class.
No wonder it’s impact was less than we might have hoped. How can we expect to create meaningful change
with only half an audience?
Our
Torah portion, Behar, demands u’karatem dror ba’aretz l’chol yoshveha, you
shall proclaim liberty (as we now translate it) in the land to all of its
inhabitants. This verse became
emblematic of liberty in this country beginning in the early decades of the 19th
century. It was taken up as a slogan of
the abolitionist movement, which can be credited with popularizing the name The Liberty Bell for that iconic American
symbol of liberty that is adorned with this biblical verse from our Torah and
sits today on Independence Mall in Philadelphia.
The intention of that verse clear: L’chol yoshve-ha, this release, this
liberty, was not intended for only one segment of the population. It was meant for all of us. We can’t achieve parity across society if we
only address parts of that society.
Whether we are advocating for justice in the way we treat individuals of
different genders, races, or sexual orientations, we must address the entire
community in order to create meaningful change; otherwise, too many miss the
message.
Gender equality is not a woman’s
issue. Racial equality is not an African-American
issue. LGBT rights and marriage equality
are not homosexual issues. These are
human rights issues. We, l’chol yoshveha, all of us who dwell
here, are responsible for addressing them; and frankly, when we stand back,
ignore, and/or refrain from being part of the solution, we contribute to the
problem. We may not be eager to face that reality, but our lack of action
matters as much as the actions we take. The
only way in which we can create meaningful change and long lasting justice, is
by making a commitment to pursue justice l’chol
yoshveha, to all the inhabitants of our society. We
must be willing to provide equal opportunities, and we must work to nurture a
culture of equal expectation and entitlement.
We must be willing to engage in what we too often perceive as someone
else’s problems and not our own. We must
own them so that we can begin to remedy them.
Over 40 years ago, Marlo Thomas imagined
a land … where all
would be free. She
could see it, it ain’t far from the land
where we are, lyricist Bruce Hart wrote for her. Sadly, I fear we are farther from it than we
should be. I expect we are much farther
from it than the cast of writers and performers who participated in the Free to Be You and Me project imagined
for the year 2015. I hope we are learning. I hope we on are way to getting there. I hope we leave a world where our children
and their children can indeed not only see it, but experience justice. Only then will they truly be free to be, you
and me.
