I have failed most all the women in my life.
Don't worry, this isn't one of those essays. By most of the world's accounting, I've treated women well. I've been a loyal friend and fiercely devoted husband to one woman for nearly a quarter-century—my entire adult life. I have worn the banner of feminism while living in places where that appellation was referred to as "the other f word." I have accepted and supported women in roles of leadership at work and in church or parachurch organizations. I have tried to seek out women writers to include in the curriculum of courses that I have taught, and to treat female students as prospective professional colleagues worthy of respect and deserving of my best efforts to help open doors and provide opportunities.
Increasingly, though, when I enumerate what I have done for women in my life, I find myself thinking of this quote from Henry David Thoreau:
I cast my vote, perchance, as I think right; but I am not vitally concerned that that right should ...1