Victimology

I was raised around strong women. My four-foot-ten-inch grandmother was one of the strongest human beings I have ever known. My mother’s sisters worked on the farm along with my uncles and me. My sister could whip any kid in school and was one of the finest athletes I have known. They didn’t ask for special consideration, nor did they carry protest signs. They certainly don’t consider themselves victims and dislike militant feminists as much as I do.

I have a good friend who is an ordained minister in his church. I was proud to be invited to his ordination ceremony a few years ago. While there...