Chapter 4

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"You educate a man; you educate a man. You educate a woman; you educate a generation." Brigham Young

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Chapter Four

Olivia sat quietly in the carriage and fiddled with the cuff of the men's shirt she was wearing. It really was quite a comfortable garment, despite being quite the wrong fit. The breeches, too, were quite practical. She supposed, though, that she would have to abide by some of society's rules. It would be back to dresses tomorrow.

What had she done today? Olivia had stolen some of her grandfather's older, smaller garments and has masqueraded as a man at the county election. She had been caught, as she had expected to be.

What had she achieved today? Olivia hoped her actions would start conversation. Elected MP's were just as answerable to their female constituents as they were to the men.

But not so deep down inside, Olivia knew that they all thought she was ridiculous. A silly, rich girl with nothing better to do than throw a tantrum and break the rules without fear of consequence. Rich parents ensured that girls like her would never face a court of law.

Olivia could not ever remember not feeling strongly for the oppressed or the disadvantaged. It was in her nature to help where she could. It was customary for rich families to take a basket of food now and again to poor families, but it never seemed like enough to Olivia.

Olivia grew up with parents who resented her for her sex. They later resented her for much more, but it had started with her gender. Before Olivia could understand land laws and titles, she often wondered what was so wrong with being a girl.

And so she had come across the book: Declaration of the Rights of Woman and of the Female Citizen. Not so much stumbled across as hunted for literature referencing the benefits of being a girl. Instead of finding benefits, Olivia truly came to understand that in this world, women were secondary, inferior to their male counterparts. It was a disadvantage to be female.

Perhaps it was Olivia's natural stubborn character, but she would not simply carry on in such a way. She endeavoured to help those around her. She used funds from her own dowry to fund a teacher's salary for the village children. She donated her father's books, albeit without his permission, to ensure that those people had equal opportunity as adults to provide for themselves and for their families.

As Olivia grew older, her dissatisfaction with what was expected of her grew. Her mother, Ruth, often detested Olivia's "charity" as she called it, and instead forced ladylike lessons on her repeatedly.

Olivia was proficient in the pianoforte, but how would that help anyone? Olivia wanted to see a society in which being a girl was not a disadvantage. She wanted to see woman as celebrated scholars and intellectuals, and God allowing, elected officials. She wanted to see a world in which every person, man or woman, could seek an education, no matter their social standing. She wanted to see people sitting in parliament based on their talents, morals and ideals, and not their social ambitions.

Olivia wanted to change the world. But clearly, she was so very far from doing so.

"Gaol, Olivia," hissed her aunt Lorna. "I wish I could say that this was the first, and last, time that I would be collecting you from a cell, Olivia, but we both know it is not true."

Olivia's parents, Ruth and John, had grown quickly sick of Olivia's "rebellious, ungodly ways". A clergyman for a father always meant Olivia was in for a sound lecture.

At sixteen, after distributing pamphlets promoting the establishment of a women's university in London, Olivia had been arrested for sedition. And, of course, all pamphlets were confiscated and destroyed. Olivia had gone one further and had attended a university lecture, dressed once again as a man. It had resulted in arrest, of course.

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