March 8, 2011 January 27, 2011 
Today, on the eve of the day dedicated to "women", as I gather each year to do a little of my budget, our "being a woman" in this society. I do like all the other major parties to find myself prepared to give this day the true value.
Although the origins of the day dedicated to women are quite confused and discussed, it can identify with a struggle by the Communist women in 1907, in Stuttgart, for the recognition of the right to vote extended to women and advocated by Rosa Luxemburg. However, the iconography wants it back to the tragic consequences of a strike seamstress American, which was held in 1911. Probably closed by the owner, 146 women died in the fire in a factory.
For me, March 8, will give him whatever source, is not a day of celebration and I can not understand how it can be experienced in this regard.
I come back to mind the events of 8 March this many years ago, when we remember that the right to vote in Italy, there was only granted in 1946
and remember also the seamstress in death 'Fire in New York, and
people shouted anger of being discriminated against as women
the social obligation to consider complementary to a man,
it was her father, brother, husband.
How many friends I had, which his father's death has taken away a future, perhaps when they were already at the university. Where there were sufficient resources to maintain the decorum family to restrict consumption, she withdrew from the studies. One would have to give up holidays, the car, to slice, no, it was up to the girl to give up his future, for better or worse so she would have married and had nothing to do but practice a profession.
comes to mind when I lent the houses at the CISA, because women did have abortions, followed by doctors and not by midwives.
Yes, because women's sexuality was also disregarded in the family, if a woman became pregnant was not his fault, it was she who had to risk their skin if the husband did not want to accept a new mouth to feed.
If there were men with problems in accepting themselves against the Company, who felt belittled by the fact that his wife worked, she had to stay home and make it look like to strive for what her husband earned enough to support their families with dignity.
I wonder how many things have changed.
Now women can count on the hospital for an abortion, but the reasons why abortions have not changed, there continues to be a sex education training in the age of both sexes, young and not so young men continue to abuse their partners and to blame making them pay only the price dell'imprevidenza, non-accountability.
Recently I spent a morning in a hospital in Milan, just the day in which abortions are performed. The women were nearly all little more than children, immigrants, marginalized, they huddled like so many puppies, totally unprepared for what waited, fearful of the unknown and the only people "miserable" for them, though hasty, were the nurses.
I saw many girls away from their families, live alone, to study, work for a living, poor in everything: work, home, love.
I have seen them struggle to keep up the good mood and the right to be considered human beings with equal dignity
and saw their peers to live with their parents because, as they can not otherwise afford with a precarious job. But I saw them not to miss one evening a week to the ritual of beer with friends, playing soccer, the concert of their favorite singers at the weekend abroad with low-cost, application. They work too, for goodness' sake, but the commitment is not the same, often to the families he's the poor that it is unfair to call "big baby",
sister, daughter or wife continue to be those "original" "rebels" who are not satisfied!
I've seen in companies, offices, waver before taking the final of women of childbearing age, promoting a man instead of a woman on a par or equal risk!
Many things seem to have reached maturity, but in reality the meaning was lost on the way, have changed only certain forms, but not the substance.
On this eve is a bit 'sad and think instead of how many women voice their dismay, their lack of understanding of this disparity,
will gather for a pizza and you feel liberated to do that and maybe only from the to go to a pizzeria that offers a male striptease.
Probably none of them will remember the last name of the seamstress Triangle, identified only a few days ago, a hundred years after his death:
Mary Joseph Lauletta .
