DN Editorial: Geraldine Ferraro: She came a long way

AT A JULY 11, 1984, press conference, Walter Mondale introduced Geraldine Ferraro to the nation as his choice for vice president.

By then, the "second wave" of American feminism was in its second decade; many barriers, in education and the workplace, had been broken. Still, for women of a certain age, the moment was surprisingly emotional. They may never have heard of her before, but Ferraro - who died Saturday at age 75 - represented tangible evidence that the future would indeed be different for women and girls.

But the Democratic candidates suffered one of the worst defeats in history. They probably had no real chance of beating Ronald Reagan and George H.W. Bush, but many observers blamed the enormity of the defeat on Mondale's "desperate" move. A woman wasn't on a national ticket again until, of course, John McCain's choice for vice president in 2008 ushered in the Age of Palin.

But things did change. To see how much (and how little), take a look back at Gerry Ferraro's brief moment on the world stage:

In the first place, there was her last name. When Ferraro had married John Zaccaro, she had kept her birth name - to honor her single mother, she said. These days, a woman keeping her birth name is hardly unusual, but back then, it simply mystified many people, who claimed to be worried about whether to call her "Miss" or "Mrs." ("Ms." still contained more than a touch of radicalism.)

Some men solved the problem by refusing to use any honorific at all: On more than one occasion, a man would call her "Geraldine," while referring to her opponent as "Mr. Bush."

One of them was Cardinal John Krol of the Archdiocese of Philadelphia. When questioned about this lack of respect, the cardinal excused himself this way: "What do you do when a person says she is Geraldine Ferraro, Mrs. Geraldine Ferraro, when actually, she is Mrs. Geraldine Zaccaro?"

Before Ferraro's time, women who made it to Congress got there mostly by being appointed after their husbands died. Ferraro represented a newer generation.

One of two women graduates in her law-school class, she waited until her children started school before she got a job as a prosecutor. From there, she launched her political career, getting elected to Congress on her own. But within days of her nomination, Ferraro's husband's finances - and his reluctance to release the details - revealed problems that many other women candidates have faced: How responsible for each other's work are two-career couples?

As difficult as it was for Ferraro, she faced nothing like the kind of overt sexism that has become a staple of political discourse - directed at Hillary Clinton and Sarah Palin, of course, but also at Nancy Pelosi, female Cabinet members and Senate candidates. The kind of comments and jokes that make fun of women's appearance, suggest they are neglectful mothers or portray them as shrill harridans are only a fraction of the disgusting misogyny that fills the Internet and routinely makes its way into comments sections on blog posts.

Looking back, Ferraro may be no more than a transitional figure. Her importance had less to do with who she was than in what she represented. In recent years, women have been elected governors and senators, as well as speaker of the House. We have had three female secretaries of state and Hillary Clinton came close to being nominated for president. They've come a long way, baby, but as the persistence of vulgar sexism proves, not far enough. *