Before the world lit itself up like a Christmas tree on every corner we could stand in our backyards and view the Milky Way. Now, the stars are blocked, locked away behind the haze of nights ablaze in light. We can no longer mark our place in the universe, feel the smallness of our being, as we watch the movement of stars across the sky. We can no longer mark time throughout the night. I miss the stars. As a child I spent hours lying on my back in the grassy yard watching the stars move through the sky. We begged to be allowed to sleep outside on warm nights, stringing blankets like a tent over the clothes line. We seldom slept inside the tent. It was more for Mom’s benefit than our own.
I loved the sky, the way clouds moved across it. I sometimes let myself feel earth’s rotation through the passage of stars and clouds. I recognized that stars were fixtures, and it was I who was being moved about while standing on Earth’s surface. Such thoughts were dizzying, electric, compelling. One night, my Father and his brothers gathered all of us cousins in Uncle Frankie’s yard, out beyond any city lights that we might watch the passage of The United States’ first satellite Explorer 1, a year after Russia’s Sputnik 1. Its passage times were charted daily and printed in the newspaper. We stood in a single row with parents standing behind; children and adults both in awe. I was hooked. I was 8 years old. I am still hooked at 74.
Each autumn I made a leaf book. I collected the most beautiful and perfect leaves I could find from the trees along the neighborhood alleys and iron them between pages of wax paper to preserve their color and form, then sew together the pages into a book. I preferred to pull leaves from the tree before ground insects, soil and trampling feet marred their full beauty. The autumn I was 12 I was reaching up for a bright yellow oak leaf when I noticed an object brighter than any star in the afternoon sky. It was three times as high as the jet streaking across the sky, a tiny form one-tenth its size, far below. Such discrepancy in what I had ever seen in the sky startled me. I pointed it out to the neighbor children who were following my progress and searching for leaves. We stopped and simply watched in wonder for perhaps 30-40 minutes. For the first 30 minutes or more it did not move. It simply hung there, huge and brilliant in the sun reflecting off its surface. Everything else in the sky shifted as time passed. It stayed in place. That was confusing.
The shape was also confusing. It appeared as two curved plates turned toward each other, with a smaller curved plate in the center, below the main body of the object. It was a perfectly formed “flying saucer.” We could not believe what we were seeing. Yet, we could not take our eyes off the image. Suddenly, the object moved upward in a straight line faster than we had ever seen an object move in the sky. It was not flying at any speed we could comprehend. It lingered in its position for several moments then moved even more rapidly at a right angle directly right, stopped and immediately flew straight up again. We were not strangers to how planes or even helicopters flew. This was clearly neither one of those. We gasped at each strange move, entranced at its uniques pattern. Then whoosh! It flew so fast it literally disappeared from view. The breathless chatter of our group became a crescendo of need to know what it was we had witnessed. One friend, Paula, remembered a brochure in the box her telescope came in. It had a phone number we could call. She found the brochure and we read about Project Blue Book. It included a phone number. I called.
Project Blue Book was housed at Wright-Patterson Air Force Base in nearby Dayton, Ohio. An officer there took my call and said he would call back. My Mother was surprised the next day when she received a call from the officer to ask if she would allow me to meet with him and another officer at the Public Library the following day. She and Paula’s mother agreed we could meet. The two officers in military uniform met us and immediately separated us for interviews. I told my story, answered every question and drew photos to illustrate its form, position in the sky, altitude and movements. Then, I answered the questions a second time before the officers switched places. The interview resumed with repetitive questioning. At the close of the interview both officers sat with Paula and me and explained that were checking to see if our stories were consistent and true. They agreed we were truthful. They admitted we had seen what the Air Force called an unidentified flying object or UFO. The next step would take some time. More than 90% of such sightings turned out to be identifiable objects. They told us they would be checking for weather balloons, experimental flying objects of our country and of other nations.
Sometime later, the officer called to tell me what we had seen was a true UFO. They could find no explanation for what we had seen. He began sending me a monthly newsletter covering sightings around the country, some explainable, others not. I wish I had kept it. From that time on I paid attention to what we were putting up in our skies, and into outer space. I have watched the commercialization of space with concern, as the skies have become crowded without clear rules of operation worldwide. What goes up must come down and the duration of satellites and their eventual demise is a real concern for those of us on Earth below. The space race which began in 1957 has only picked up speed and, unfortunately, mass. Fortunately, NORAD, a joint effort by The United states and Canada, monitors those skies from the North Pole to Central America.
Events of the past week are not truly surprising. They are inevitable. The strategy behind the positioning of the Chinese spy balloon is interesting and worth considering. Unfortunately, Americans pay more attention to sci-fi thrillers than to facts and are more interested in movie scenarios than reality. The usual suspects are already claiming aliens are landing, one more group of “the other” to fear so white America votes hard right. Perhaps the Chinese strategy is not so inscrutable after all. Perhaps these events will awaken the world to the need to regulate the space where satellites and weather balloons claim dominance over those of us below. Keep looking up. There are challenges ahead and we must unleash imagination to meet those challenges. But, never fear. The best is yet to come.
annarino writes 
WOMAN’S WORK
My work life started with equality of effort and pay. Five year old brotherAngelo told me I could not help if I could not keep up. I kept up. We shared pulling our wagon through the alley near our house, rummaging through trash to pull our newspapers, cans, bottles and magazines. He pulled as I pushed the loaded wagon onto the scale at the junkyard across the street and down another alley. We checked each other’s math as Mr. Schonberger paid us pennies according to the weight of our load. We each received the same amount.
Angelo was able to secure a job as paperboy for the Newark Advocate. I tried but was told girls could not be paperboys. My brother allowed me to help him, as I always had, offering to split the pay with me. He hated going door-to-door to collect subscription fees. I was pretty successful at it. After awhile he became bored and started allowing me to deliver the paper as well. I was thrilled to finally be a papergirl, full stop! Except, Angelo retained his half of the salary on the premise I could earn nothing on my own so I still came out ahead. From that day on, I angrily experienced pay inequity. It takes many forms, is institutionalized and challenges to it are always risky. One can end up jobless, very easily. My own brother taught me those lessons when I was 8 years old.
After graduate school I became a Resident Counselor at a co-ed high rise residence hall at the University of Cincinnati. I soon discovered that I was paid less than the other three RCs assigned to our building. The other woman was entitled to her salary since she was considered the Head RC. But, the two men had fewer degrees than I and had less experience. Since we were a state university those were clearly defined bases for assessing wages. In my case those considerations were ignored. The second year in this position saw the Head counselor leave on maternity leave, one of the men transferred to the Athletic Dept. and the other man took a position as Head RC. These positional shifts left me to do the job 4 persons had been doing, with no increase in pay. I left after that year to attend law school, determined to learn what I needed to make the world a more just and fair place for everyone.
I will not go into the racism and sexism In law school, nor in my workplaces over the years. That discussion is for another day. Today is about pay equity. My first legal job was at The Legal Aid Society of Columbus. Pay equity was not an issue in this job. However, the salary there meant I was barely able to repay my school loans. I could not buy a car, could barley pay rent, and was unable to help out my parents or save any money for emergencies. I later secured a position at Ohio University where I could use both my legal training and experience, and my Student Affairs training and experience. I was confident the pay schedules would afford some protection.
I was wrong. After studying the issue of my pay versus the scale I realized had been placed three grades lower than the man who had preceeded me, who also had fewer degrees and less experience. He also did not have all the duties I had, and carried a much smaller case load as well. After a year-long study measuring my position against the pay scale at my university, the pay for similar position at other state schools in Ohio and state schools nationally I concluded I was grossly underpaid. Instead of filing a pay equity claim based on discrimination, I filed for a review of my position to bring it into compliance with the pay scale. I knew if I claimed sexual discrimination I would not have my contract renewed. I loved my job. I loved the work I did. I did not want to lose the position.
I never mentioned sex discrimination in my research report, my application for review, or any cover letters. I tread lightly. The wrangling went on for nearly 2 years while I patiently, if stressfully, sought pay equity. Finally, the Provost asked to speak to me. Such a meeting should have been unnecessary since the pay scale criteria were set and I met the criteria for a move up three grades and across the grade significantly. I had been underpaid from day one, but could only claim an amount due from the date of application for review, losing thousands of dollars in unmet equity. I was willing to forego those losses in order to retain my position. But, wanted fair and equal pay recognized and offered.
The first 5 minutes of the conversation with the Provost explained why he was meeting with me as he started to discuss sexual discrimination. I stopped him, reminding him I had not made my claim one for sexual discrimination which would have created a terrible image for the university, which I had pledged to serve. The university would be harmed if such a claim were made by its own legal counsel. He was caught off guard and stumbled in his speech. What do you want? I want what I have claimed. That started a negotiation. I did not get the back pay I asked for from day one’s misplacement on the scale. I did get the upgrade and back salary of two yers from the date I filed a job review request based on updated information. It was clear I would need to file suit to get full equity. I could not sue the institution I loved and hoped to continue working for. It was a bittersweet victory of sorts.
What I experienced at the university was not new to me, as such inequities existed in nearly every job I have held. Nor are such experiences limited to me. Every woman faces such discrimination. It is baked in to systems and those who create and manage them. It will not easily be removed. It impossible to attain equity but the costs are often too high for mere mortals to bear. A Vice-President for the university called me in soon after I was granted proper pay for my work. He told me the conversation we were about to have never happened should I repeat it to anyone. I will only say that he told me he had never seen such discrimination against any woman, and he had seen a lot in his career in private and public sector, as he saw in my case. He advised I remove myself from the position as the discrimination would not stop until I had been destroyed. He offered me a position under his area. It is hard to trust any man who starts the conversation, “This conversation never happened.” I did not acccept the position he offered.
I wonder, sometimes, if I could have avoided chronic fatigue syndrome which left me bedridden for a year, unable to speak or walk…or even sit-up or crawl. I relearned language. Learned to walk with a walker, then with a cane. I asked to do what many men had done following strokes or heart attacks, be in the office in the morning and work from home in the afternoon, I reasoned my hearings were usually scheduled in the morning. I could schedule meetings then as well; and, write briefs, make phone calls and do legal research in the afternoons. I was told I was not to return to work unless I could be in the office full-time. No man had ever been told this. I was in position to know. And this, from a boss who never came in to the office before 11 then left for a three hour lunch.
Women are marching across the globe for pay equity. I walk with them in spirit. I add my voice to theirs. This is the only way my health allows me to do so. Listen to those women. Hear their pleas. Help them. And do it “on the record”; not as if this conversation never happened.
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