My 59 cents.

Back in the 1970s when I was 10 years old and in the fifth grade, my recently divorced mother, who'd just joined the ranks of "older students" to finally earn her undergrad degree, pinned a 59-cent button on my wide lapel. She instructed me to wear it to school. If anyone asked me to explain what it meant I was to say: "Did you know a woman earns 59 cents to every man's dollar doing the exact same work in the identical job?" I got to school and the boys teased me, asked if I really was for sale for only 59 cents, and jokingly wondered if I was even worth that much. My female teacher got wind of the teasing and asked me what my button meant, so I told her. And she told me to keep wearing it until women had achieved equality. Mom, this election is for you and for every woman who ever refused to sit pretty and stay silent. Who demanded a voice and respect and the right to be more than an accessory on some man's arm. I'm emotional right now—and I'm not afraid to say so. #ImWithHer ... and every "Her" who fought so hard to see this day.