It was 1970—the beginnings of the women’s movement. As the city librarian, Mom was invited to speak at my school. Pounding her fist on the podium, she declared our rights as young girls. Cheers rose. I slid lower in my seat. Kids asked, “Is that your mom?” Yes, indeed. Exceedingly opinionated and motivated to make a difference in her world, she drove five hours a day for three years to attend college, juggling family time and her job. She died much too soon, but she left me her love and knowing that with courage and motivation, I could succeed.