Women's Equality: The Fight Worth Fighting
by Lyndsey Pecker, NCJW Legislative Intern
My first task at my summer internship with NCJW was to familiarize myself with Title IX, in honor of its upcoming 40th anniversary on June 23, 2012. As I began to research this pivotal law — sorting through the thousands of pictures and articles celebrating women’s participation in collegiate sports — I realized the tremendous extent to which I take my ability to play sports for granted. I never believed that my gender could prevent me from participating in athletic events or that my childhood dream of playing sports at the university level could be stymied simply because of my sex. Today, for millions of women like me, life without Title IX is unthinkable. And it’s more than just sports.
Title IX goes well beyond women’s participation in athletics. Title IX is about guaranteeing equal opportunity for women. It has made it possible for a woman to get the health care she needs, to stand up for herself when she feels she isn’t being treated with the same respect as a male counterpart, and to reach the top of her field in whatever industry she chooses.





Myra was pivotal in creating NCJW’s life membership program, as well as many of our programs and commitments in Israel, and for encouraging visionary, strategic advancement of NCJW locally and nationally. But most significantly, Myra, like NCJW, developed people. Over the more than 70 years of continuous and dedicated leadership in NCJW, Myra mentored many dozens of women, two of whom became national NCJW presidents: Nan Rich (1996-99) and I, Nancy Ratzan (2008-11). Myra’s mentorship was so intimate and impactful, that her mentees came to be known as “Myra’s daughters.” At her funeral, more than 25 of “Myra’s daughters,” spanning three generation, accompanied her casket. As one of her “daughters,” I delivered the following eulogy:
And indeed, while in Washington, DC, we asked for justice twice: First, we urged President Obama, through Administration officials, to use the power of his bully pulpit to continue to raise the profile of this issue with the public and to accelerate the process of selecting new nominees to send to the Senate for confirmation. Second, we met with our senators to decry foot-dragging, filibuster threats, and unprecedented Republican obstruction to the President’s pending nominees. The delays that result prevent our federal courts in keeping up with rising caseloads. These delays are bad for business, they costs billions of dollars, and they force individuals to wait far too long for their day in court.
After a group of men and women who had come from Arizona to witness the historic Supreme Court hearing had recited the rosary in Spanish, the altar was changed over for the Jewish community’s turn. Rabbi David Shneyer led us off with songs and psalms, followed by several speakers concerned about immigration. I spoke for NCJW and shared our proud history of service to the immigrant community dating back to the 19th century Port and Dock Service on Ellis Island. And I shared the stories I heard in Alabama recently as part of the We Belong Together women’s trip to meet with immigrant women suffering under the draconian Alabama immigration law, HB 56 — the harshest in the nation. I shared NCJW’s concern that if the Supreme Court didn’t act to throw out the Arizona law, many states would follow suit, putting into place inhumane and unjust laws aimed at driving immigrants out.
When Nancy and I first arrived at the reception, White House Senior Advisor Valerie Jarrett warmly greeted us. We thanked Ms. Jarrett for the Administration’s support of women’s health and expressed our excitement that starting this August women will have free preventive care that includes contraceptive services no matter where she works.
Believe me — quick victories like this are few and far between! But my 30 years with NCJW has taught me that whenever we have had a victory, it has been the result of the same unified, persistent action as the one directed at Komen last week.
It was a beautiful day in September, 1970. I was a young intern at Bryn Mawr Hospital in the exclusive Main Line suburb of Philadelphia, having recently graduated from medical school. I was called to the emergency room to admit to the hospital a 16 year-old girl from a rich Main Line family. Her problem was intractable nausea and vomiting. Even though during my work-up she told me that she had never had sexual intercourse, for sake of completeness I ordered a pregnancy test that was reported positive. When I confronted her with the result, she confessed having had unprotected sex and that having the baby was totally out of the question, since she was getting ready to become a “debutante.”