Video games seem to be mostly a boy thing — viewed by young boys and created by big boys. I believe that if more videos games were created by women, the violence in these games — especially against women — would be rapidly toned down.

There's one catch, however. To design these games women have to become computer scientists. Yes, they have to enter a field, which has increasingly been dominated by men, and it's getting worse, not better. While enrollment in math, science and even engineering has been growing for women, computer science is moving the other way. In 1985, 38 percent of computer scientists were women. That figure has plummeted to 17 percent in some years.

A group of Vermont women formed a new networking organization for women in science, math and engineering and finance to encourage more women. A group of Harvard students recently revived a long dormant organization, Women in Computer Sciences. Why?

They discovered that the percentage of women in the field fell from 42 percent in the class of 2013, to 22 percent in the class of 2014.

Why is computer science a good field for women? For one thing, that's where the jobs are, and for another, the pay is better than for many jobs, and finally, it's easier to combine career and family.

But that's not all. Yes, you may get a job at Facebook or Microsoft, but there's more at stake.

"If you completely shut out the entire feminine perspective on the world, you are going to have a different set of products," the president of Harvey Mudd College, Maria Klawe, told Judy Woodruff on the PBS News Hour. The presence of women in computer labs will determine what kind of medical devices get created, what kind of products we buy.

Boys often get attracted to computer science because they like to watch video games. When women begin to create those games, more girls will begin to watch them too, and by the time they start college, they'll be hooked, not only on playing games, but also on a career in computer science. This is how greater gender equality can enrich all of our lives.

Originally published at the Huffington Post.

Madeleine M. Kunin is the author of The New Feminist Agenda, and Pearls, Politics and Power.

Yes, support for gay marriage has been growing among young people, but the country remains deeply divided on the question, evidenced by the North Carolina vote in favor of a constitutional amendment that bans both civil unions and marriage.

When I was Governor of Vermont in the 1980's, neither same-sex marriage nor civil unions were on the table. I was applauded by the gay community for initiating an official state liaison with a gay organzation. I also spoke at Vermont's first Gay Pride Day, and received some praise but intense criticism for showing up.

After Civil Unions became law in Vermont, a half a dozen legislators lost their seats because of the "Yea" vote they cast. A storm of opposition followed, with "Take Back Vermont" signs springing up on the side of country roads. After Vermont passed a gay marriage act, over riding a Governor' veto, there was almost no reaction. Within ten years, gay marriage had moved from being on the fringe to moving toward the center–at least in Vermont

My state–once a Republican stronghold is now largely Democratic. We sometimes delude ourselves into thinking that the country is moving in the same direction.

Not so. The 31 states that have passed laws and constitutional amendments banning same-sex marriage prove the point.

Many courageous citizens had spoken out in favor of same-sex marriage before it was popular—even in Vermont. But the voice of the President of the United States speaking publicly in favor of same-sex marriage changes the political landscape. He establishes a tone of respect and civility that this country desperately needs in these times of ugly and divisive rhetoric.

Mere months before his re-election will be determined, he has taken the risk of alienating many voters who vehemently disagree with him, even while others will agree. The polls on the question are so close that it is difficult to predict the consequences.

One thing is clear. It took guts to state his position and I applaud him for it. But he could not have "evolved" to supporting same-sex marriage without the vocal support of a growing number of Americans who stand with him. I for, one did not expect such an enormous change to occur within a period of less than 25 years. Change is not only possible in America; it happens within our lifetime.

Madeleine M. Kunin is the author of The New Feminist Agenda, and Pearls, Politics and Power.

What fantasy life? Maybe the one percent of working women who have time to fantasize about getting spanked by their lovers, but not the 99 percent who are still trying to figure out when or whether to spank a child at all.

As for a fantasy life, working women are more likely to fantasize about finding the perfect child care provider who she can both trust and afford. She might also fantasize that tonight her husband will both shop for and cook dinner. And yes, she will fantasize about lit candles and grown-up conversation at the table, instead of having to wipe up the second glass of spilt milk.

And she may imagine that if only her boss would let her work four days a week instead of five, she could achieve what she has always heard about but never managed to accomplish — a work/life balance.

The working mom who is happily gazing at her precious newborn might allow herself to dream that she could stay home for six months or, ideally a year, to take care of her baby without losing either her job or her total paycheck. She has heard rumors that this happens in other countries.

Yes, women do like to fantasize. And some day, who knows, some of these fantasies may be realized by the 99 percent who dream them every working day. If they have time — they may fantasize about sex. What sex?

Madeleine M. Kunin is the author of The New Feminist Agenda, and Pearls, Politics and Power.

I wonder what the male members of the club are afraid of. Could they be thinking that women are too sexually distracting to play with or even in the proximity of men? Perhaps if women wore Burkas and covered themselves from head to toe — and I respect those who wear them — male golfers would feel less threatened. But then again, Burkas would create a terrible golf handicap.

It's hard to take a swing when your arms are restricted by the equivalent of a walking sleeping bag. It's even harder to see around corners, or even straight ahead, when you're confined to slits of light no bigger than a peep hole. But Burkas would protect male golfers from being exposed to bare armed, bare ankled and bare faced women.

On second thought, wearing them could be quite dangerous for women. How could they dodge a bad shot from another golfer? Male golfers could be at risk as well. What if a burka-clad woman were mistaken for a tree? Suddenly, a shot comes from nowhere. No time to duck.

Maybe it's female competition they're afraid of. Not too likely, since women play in women's tournaments and men play in men's tournaments, just like boys and girls bathrooms. No one goes in the other door, except by mistake.

Maybe it's the IDEA of having women on what has traditionally been male turf that is so upsetting. It seems that men, after all, can get emotional about that. You can't play with us. It's our game and we're going to keep it that way. The fear of male and female golfers mingling — yes, mingling — may go back to the hunter-gatherer days. We hunt and gather, you cook and clean.

A golf club may be a dangerous weapon, as Tiger Woods discovered when his wife attacked him with one, but I have not yet heard of a deer being killed by a golf club, even during hunting season in Vermont.

It could be that women are denied admission to this exclusive club — even when they are the female CEO of IBM and, one of the sponsors of the Masters tournament — because they might blush at dirty jokes or disapprove of foul language. I for one, have not seen a woman blush in some time.

The good news is that Barack Obama and all the past and present Republican Presidential candidates, including Rick Santorum and Mitt Romney, are in favor of opening the Augusta gates to women.

What does that mean? It could mean that if the Augusta National Golf Club is afraid of letting women in, the Presidential candidates are afraid of keeping them out. Hmm. Women may be powerful, after all.

Madeleine M. Kunin is the author of The New Feminist Agenda, and Pearls, Politics and Power.

The word "artist" is not in my resume, but the word "art" is part of my life. I don't see a contradiction between being a politician and an artist. Winston Churchill is the leader who immediately comes to mind as
an example. Known as a "Sunday painter," his watercolors were widely exhibited. It's interesting to entertain the idea that if more men and women in public life became "Sunday painters," they might become better Monday-through-Saturday policy makers. If politicians were to permit themselves to step away for a few hours each week from the rapid-fire schedule of political life to look closely at the world around them, and to express their own creativity, who knows what might happen? My imagination soars at the thought. For
one thing, they might be in a better mood and treat each other with greater civility. There might be less name calling and more legislating.

For another, by carefully looking at their surroundings, whether it is out the window on to a city street, or at a landscape while driving, or in the dining room gazing at a floral arrangement, they could see beyond their wealthy contributors, insistent lobbyists, and the confined architecture of the Congress.

They might even transfer their creativity from making art to forging legislation which does not only please one side, but is the patchwork quilt of different points of view, known as compromise.

When I say "art," I mean all the arts—poetry, fiction, non- fiction, dance, music, theatre, movies. I have always felt the need to integrate them into my life, even when I was Governor of Vermont. I can thank my
mother for having exposed me as a child to these riches. She took me to the Museum of Modern Art, and classical music pervaded our apartment, thanks to the New York classical radio station, WQXR—whose announcers also turned out to be excellent English teachers for a family who was just learning the language. (My first language was Swiss German.)

I learned to draw when my mother used to give me a pencil and a piece of white paper to keep me occupied while we were having tea in a cafe with her friends. When I became the mother of four children, I entertained them, covering them with their father's shirts, put on backwards, and settled them in front of an easel, with baby food jars of tempera paint balanced on the rim. Art was often an enjoyable way for me to satisfy my need for self expression. I took a sculpture class with Paul Achenbach at the University of Vermont, and in the 1970s made my first few woodcuts of trees, of children dancing in a circle, and of Vietnamese woman planting rice. I must have been diverted to other things, because I didn't pick up a block of wood again until Burlington City Arts asked me to.

Throughout my adult life, I always belonged to a book club. The first group was put together my Laura Cummings, once the owner of the Everyday Bookshop. She was older than all of us young mothers who were then occupied with caring for our children. We had one rule: nobody could discuss recipes or kids.

Reading has been a staple in my life. Poetry, fiction, non-fiction. It seems too obvious to state, but there is no doubt that a public person can learn a great deal from the private lives of others as portrayed in literature. For me, it was highly enjoyable to enter worlds so different from my own.

The "news" as we know it today is without a doubt, hardly ever enjoyable. It is necessary to be informed, of course, but it is not necessary to be harangued, which is often the case. Stopping for poetry, as Frost did by stopping in the woods one snowy evening, allows for thought, for respite from the daily pounding of
information in our heads.

The world of artistic creativity and hard-nosed political reality seem miles apart to most observers. I see a linkage. Political life, at its very best, is a creative process. Finding solutions to problems calls on the imagination to envision a different future. One has to put old ideas together in new combinations to solve a problem.

Art —in all its forms—provides what nothing else can—a better understanding of the human condition. It is a door through which we walk to understand the complexity of emotions, the diversity of beliefs and opinions, and finally— the richness of the world around us.

Madeleine M. Kunin, former Governor of Vermont, is the author of the forthcoming book, The New Feminist Agenda: Defining the Next Revolution for Women, Work and Family.

He received a round of applause. Everybody approved because it makes common sense. Average annual income for a high school dropout is $17,299 compared to $26,933 for a high school graduate. Worse yet, many high school dropouts can't find any job because they lack the skills.

If it's such a good idea to stay in school until the age of 18 or graduation, why have only 21 states passed this law? Because by the time a student reaches 16, it is often too late.

If we are to be serious about reducing the dropout rate in this country we have to begin much earlier. Many low income children fall behind their classmates as early as kindergarten. If we want to increase the number of high school graduates we have to focus on the years one through five. That's when critical brain development takes place that often determines whether the young child will grow into a successful, productive adult.

It's not just about test scores. In addition to doing well in math and reading, long term studies demonstrate that children learn non-cognitive skills early–like the ability to complete a task, focus, and work cooperatively. Long term studies of 40-year-old adults who attended excellent pre-schools indicate that they are more likely to complete high school, and have lower unemployment, and lower incarceration rates than a control group who did not attend these pre-schools.

Early investment in children our best investment, according to Nobel Prize winning economist James Heckman, who believes that money spent on quality childcare and early education, has the highest rate of return.

Vermont has an opportunity to lead the way. We can be pleased that we have the highest graduation rate, but we cannot be complacent. Every Vermonter should have a high school diploma, but to succeed every Vermont child should have access to quality childcare and early education.

Madeleine M. Kunin is the author of Pearls, Politics and Power.

Not so for Sister Elizabeth Candon. For 74 years, she happily served as a Sister of Mercy, living a life that was far from cloistered.

She had entered into the convent during one period, when sisters still had male saints' names, and emerged in another — when quite suddenly, sisters shed both their habits of clothing and their habits of living. Few made the transition into the modern world more dramatically than Sister Elizabeth when she became a public citizen.

I first met her when I was in my thirties, had recently received my Masters' degree in English literature from the University of Vermont, and given birth to my fourth child. I was ready to step back into the world myself — tentatively.

Sister Elizabeth hired me to be a part-time instructor at Trinity College — I was thrilled, not knowing I would be up half the night correcting 150 English papers.

I remember the tragic day of Kent State, May 4, 1970, when the National Guard fired on unarmed anti-Vietnam student protesters — and four were killed. I went to her office to ask that we cancel classes and have a teach-in. Without a moment's hesitation she said yes.

How did this devout woman,who began her education in a Vermont one-room school house and received a PhD in her favorite subjects — Shakespeare and Chaucer — become such a beloved figure?

For one thing, she gave herself the freedom to say what she believed to be true, whether it pleased the Catholic Bishop or not. For another, she did not wait for her journey to heaven to translate the word of God into action here on earth. When she was appointed Secretary of the Agency of Human Services by former Republican governor Richard Snelling, she seized the opportunity to serve the neediest of Vermont's citizens — not by prayer alone.

She was not your usual rebel — pushing the envelope against established institutions. She might not have marched with the 99 percent Occupy Wall Street crowd, but in her heart, she was 100 percent with them.

Her words were never harsh, her voice never loud, her presence not large. But the aura that glowed around her was huge and powerful. She delighted others with her sparkling Irish humor, even as she lay on her death bed, which did not seem like a death bed at all. She had her visitors laughing with her at her string of hilarious observations; the oxygen tube that helped her breathe could not restrain her.

More than anyone I had ever known, Sister Elizabeth was ready for death. She knew she had lived a full and happy life; and in the process, she enabled countless others to live a better life too.

Madeleine M. Kunin is the author of Pearls, Politics and Power.

The plant had an unplanned shut down for eight months to replace the entire recirculation piping unit. Both plant officials and the Nuclear Regulatory commission had kept me in the dark. The state's nuclear engineer concluded that probably violations had occurred in the "storage and handling program for safety related materials." Plant officials issued denials. Who was right? How could I assure Vermonters that the plant was safe? That is the same question that is being asked today.

Governors have the responsibility to protect the safety of their citizens. If the plant accidentally releases radiation, the Governor takes immediate action, ordering an evacuation, issuing iodine pills. But the Governor had no power to prevent an accident in the first place.

My first step was to obtain an impartial evaluation of the plant. It was not so easy to get the safety question answered because "experts" were divided into two camps, either anti nuclear or pro nuclear scientists. After many insistent phone calls to the Nuclear Regulatory Commission, I reached the New England regional director. We toured the plant together and as a result, he ordered a complete inspection of Vermont Yankee. He was as concerned as I was, and recommended major safety changes in the plant which were implemented. I established a new position–an on site nuclear inspector to act as liaison between the NRC and the state.

I went a step further. I brought a resolution to the National Governor's Association, which stated that Governors should have more authority over the safety of their nuclear power plants. Governor John Sununu was not pleased. He saw this as a direct attract on the approval of New Hampshire 's Seabrook plant, which had been beset by demonstrations. In one outburst, he told my staff person, "I'm going to raise a million dollars to defeat your governor."

When Chernobyl occurred in 1986, calls for a shutdown of Vermont Yankee began. The question remains: how can the public know whether a nuclear power plant is safe to operate? What was underscored in the recent Vermont court case is that safety questions are decided by the federal government. The state, can, however, make an economic argument–a more difficult task.
The best solution would be for a more safety oriented Nuclear

Regulatory Commission to work with Vermont and decide whether Vermont Yankee's lifespan is safe to extend.

To succeed, the NRC would have to change course from being a nuclear energy salesman to being a nuclear cop.

This was originally published on The Huffington Post.

Madeleine M. Kunin is the author of Pearls, Politics and Power.

When we mention the 1 percent and the 99 percent, everybody now knows what we are talking about. It's part of our vocabulary. How quickly these numbers jumped from the sidelines to the center. I first heard them from Carol Shea Porter, former Congresswoman from New Hampshire. Fighting for the 99 percent was her campaign theme. I thought she was on to something, but I suspect even she, had no idea that fighting for the 99 percent would become the mantra for a new grass roots movement.

The wildfire spread of the Occupy movement, both here and abroad, amazed us. It touched a nerve of discontent with the status quo. The huge disparities in income growth between lower, middle and upper income groups offended our sense of fairness. The Occupy movement succeeded in expressing a general feeling of discontent that many Americans have felt building up over the last several years. We had no way to express it. Occupy enabled us to let off steam. The result is: "We're not going to take it anymore."

What "it" was — that we're not going to take — continues to be debated. Is "It" high student loan debts, is "It", new anti-union laws, is "It", joblessness, is "It" global warming? There is no single message connecting the movement. But that may not be entirely bad, for the short term.

But what about the long term? Could Occupiers shape an agenda that would be a counterweight to the Tea Party? Should they also support and defeat candidates?

I believe it is time for the Occupiers to focus. If there is one issue, that cuts across all the others — it is need to curb the power of money to influence politics. Money often determines not only who gets elected, but what gets done. Which voices do lawmakers listen to, the banks or home owners, coal companies, or asthma sufferers, the CEOs or the unemployed?

Without putting the brakes on out of control campaign contributions from individuals and corporations — it will be business as usual, with 1 percent of Americans pulling the strings. To give power back to 99 percent of Americans, we need a grassroots campaign for a constitutional amendment to reverse recent Supreme Court decisions on limiting campaign contributions. It's time for Occupy Wall Street to morph into Occupy Congress.

This was originally posted on The Huffington Post.

Madeleine M. Kunin is the author of Pearls, Politics and Power.

Why did they leave their own comfort zone to comfort others? And why does this generous spirit seem to only surface in our small state, when the country at large is in need of a similar sense of neighborliness? Is it because we are a small state where a lot of people know one another; is it because we can see the devastation with our own eyes, and do not rely on anonymous photographs and statistics that are scrubbed of all emotion? Or is it, as we may be tempted to conclude, that we in Vermont are simply better than those in other far flung states?

I doubt that we're that much better. We're all, basically made of the same stuff: generosity and selfishness, goodness and greed. If we believe that the human condition is not that different from one place to another, how can we accept or explain the recent agenda in the Congress–to cut winter fuel subsidies, to chip away at the Medicare and Medicaid, to cut food programs, at a time when the coming winter will again be cold, people will continue to get sick, and a shameful percentage of Americans–especially children—have to go to bed with gnawing tummies.

Why can't that sense of neighborliness, which works locally, work nationally? In theory, it should. The great seal of the United States of America has spelled out the Latin words, E pluribus Unum, since it was adopted in 1782. Out of many one.

The state of Vermont's seal is similar. "Freedom and Unity."

Unity is our local and national theme. Whatever conditions confront us–good times or bad–the message is, we are in this together. For better or worse, we stand side by side.

In Vermont we've had the opportunity to translate those words into action. In Washington, the translation of E Pluribus Unum has been lost. The belief that we are one nation–united in purpose–caring about and for one another is no longer the practice. The budget battles reveal that the new motto is: Each man and woman for him or herself has become a form of social Darwinism–survival of the fittest and forget everybody else. Providing help to those who need it is a sign of weakness, not strength.

Why did programs like Social Security, Medicare and Medicaid, and unemployment insurance exist in the first place? It was not because we were a rich nation; it was because we were a caring nation. We knew how to walk in someone else's shoes and could feel where they pinched. It is time to resurrect that sense of neighborliness on a national scale, so that E Pluribus Unum gains meaning once again.

Madeleine M. Kunin is the author of Pearls, Politics and Power.