How Much Has Changed Since Rosie the Riveter's Day?

Red bandanas with white polka dots were everywhere.

Older women and young girls, along with a few men and a couple of dogs, were all sporting the trademark handkerchiefs, as folks gathered in Richmond this past Saturday for National Rosie the Riveter Day. 

Over 100 people sat outside of the official Rosie the Riveter / WWII Home Front National Historical Park. On stage in front of them, a handful of former welders and steelworkers, representing the millions of real-life Rosies who entered the workforce during World War II, were honored for their efforts.

As the event host shared each person’s name and a bit of their story, I stood in the crowd taking photos and making mental note of how many women moved to the Bay Area, met husbands and raised families while simultaneously manufacturing all-terrain jeeps and leading the construction of massive battleships. 

Imagine living in the belly of the war machine, knowing that this country doesn’t value you because of your identity. But your innate effort to find purpose — love, meaningful employment or simply a better life — is intertwined with the ever-expanding reach of global imperialism and domestic disregard for your demographic.

Eighty years later, how much has changed?

Largely, society’s views on sexism, racism, ablism and other exclusionary beliefs have shifted since the 1940s. But it’d be beyond naive to say these ideas don’t continue to influence individuals and institutions alike.

And war, well, this country is forever at war — with other nations, as well as people inside its borders.

It says a lot about people’s ability to pursue happiness in the midst of discrimination and denigration. Amazing how people will fight for democracy, while constantly being reminded that their voice isn’t valued. And it’s mind blowing that out of all the machines made for combat, people — in this instance, women specifically — are the ones who’ve stood the test of time.

During the March 21 event, in the middle of all of the women on stage was Marcella Hubbard. Wearing a red bandana, a matching bright red blazer and a pair of blue jeans, Hubbard waved to the crowd from her wheelchair.

As she did, the event host noted that Hubbard would turn 105 in just a few days.

Before another volunteer gave Hubbard a bouquet of flowers, the host gave us a window into Hubbard’s life: born in Mississippi, she was one of 22 children. Hubbard moved to California, became a welder and worked in a factory during the war. Later in life she worked for the post office until she retired.

I’m familiar with Hubbard’s story. I wrote about her five years ago when she reached the century mark; plus she’s my mother’s neighbor. But when I heard her story on that Saturday, along with the stories of the other women who worked in the factories during WWII, something resonated.

As Hubbard left the stage, she was greeted by a group of Girl Scouts asking for her autograph and posing with her for photos — nearly a century in age difference. I thought about some of the threads that connect then to now.

The SS Red Oak Victory, a warship converted into a museum, is docked in Richmond. It’s the last of the 747 vessels constructed at the Richmond Kaiser Shipyards during the war. The industrial boom of building barges like this one brought an influx of nearly 70,000 people to Richmond throughout the 1940s. And even more people worked and lived in Marin, West Oakland and other cities with shipyards, causing an overall boom to the Bay Area’s population.

After moving from the South, Hubbard eventually settled in North Oakland. She lives directly next to my mother; I’ve known her and her family for over two decades.

Hubbard’s love of the color purple is shown through the paint job on her family’s multistory house, as well as the color of the items grown in her garden — purple flowers and purple collard greens.

After the event celebrating the Rosies, Hubbard’s family gathered in the backyard of the purple house. Cake was served, and music played. My nine-year-old daughter got a slice as she hung out with Hubbard’s great-great-granddaughter.

As the kids played, I left to attend a film festival in Emeryville before grabbing some pizza and beer with friends. Despite the war with Iran driving gas prices to COVID-19 pandemic levels,  there were still enough cars on the streets to create traffic jams at the usual hot spots. Even as the unemployment rate soars to 4% (or higher), people continue to go outside.

Theaters are occupied, and restaurants are filled with people enjoying art. A couple on Bay Street walked past me holding hands. A line of people looking for slices and pies extended out of June’s Pizza on Saturday night. And Marcella Hubbard and her family celebrated in their backyard.

As news reports show bombs exploding in the Middle East, and further deployment of ICE agents domestically, it’s clear that the war machine is impacting people’s livelihoods here and abroad. But amidst the angst, disgust and disagreement with the current federal administration, many Americans are still hard at work — pursuing happiness.

The following morning I helped my mother in her garden. We pulled weeds and cut away dead debris in preparation for spring. Through the chain-link fence, I talked with Hubbard’s family about the previous day’s event. Everyone enjoyed themselves.

Before packing up, I looked up the purple house’s stairs, and there Hubbard was, waving at me like she did to the crowd the day before.