Cherwerl Radican and the Origins of Dayton Women's Liberation

This is a fictionalized and somewhat condensed account of the events that led up to the beginning of Dayton Women's Liberation. The people named are all real, though I made up the name for "Tom." The events are real, the thoughts and dialogue are all from my imagination.

“Whaaat? What’s that?,” Cherwerl Radican said.

            “’Women’s liberation,” Tom repeated, handing her a copy of motive magazine. “What do you think? It sounds like something our readers might be interested in.”

            Cherwerl took the magazine and said, “I’ll take a look and get back to you.”

            She couldn’t get that term out of her mind on her way back home in Dayton from another day at work for The Minority Report, a local underground leftist newspaper. “Women’s liberation…shouldn’t we be more concerned about racism? Or getting the fuck out of Vietnam?” she thought. Cherwerl kept an open mind about this new cause, however, and set to reading the magazine Tom had given her when she got home.

            Soon after she began reading, Cherwerl was mesmerized. She had never read anything like it before; it was 1969 and nobody cared much about women’s issues. Which made it all the more exciting since she could connect so much of it to her own life.

            She remembered a conversation with her college counselor. “I was thinking about majoring in psychology. I’d like to be a counselor or therapist,” Cherwerl told him.

            He raised an eyebrow and looked at her, “Now, Cherwerl, I don’t think that’s a right fit for you. Psychology is a male field, you know.”

            She felt confused and angry, but went along with it at the time. Cherwerl knew something was wrong with this but didn’t have the word for it until reading an article in motive.

            “That sexist bastard,” she muttered under her breath.

            It all made sense to her, almost before she finished reading the first piece in motive. Her friend whose wealthy parents refused to help her pay for college because they believed that women had no use for education beyond high school. Cherwerl’s college counselor. She finally had a name for what those experiences were and a name for what she now believed; she was a women’s liberationist.

            When she returned to The Minority Report, Cherwerl talked with Robin, one of her colleagues at the magazine.

            “You’ve got to see this, Robin,” she said, thrusting the copy of motive that had awakened her.

            Robin thumbed through the periodical that Tom had given Cherwerl. “Yeah, we’ve talked about some of this stuff in The Minority Report before. I think there’s more important issues going on right now, though. I mean, look at what’s going on in the south and the killing going on overseas…”

            “Are you kidding?” Cherwerl exclaimed. “This effects all of us! Racism is important but we’re not directly impacted by it. The stuff they talk about in here,” she said, gesturing to motive, effects all women, white, black, whatever.”

            “I get it, Cherwerl, women are definitely oppressed in this country,” Robin replied. “But the problem is what you just said. If we delve too deeply into women’s liberation, that will make things too personal. The movement we’re a part of is fragile. We can’t get caught up in individual issues and differences.”

            Without allowing Robin’s response dampen her newfound passion, Cherwerl turned to the women in the greater Dayton community for support and to spread the message she had just received. Soon after that conversation, Cherwerl put an unassuming ad in The Minority Report that would change the future of women in Dayton. 

            “Women’s Liberation – Call Cheryl 278-6271”