"We have reached 37,000 feet," said our captain. "I have turned off the seat belt sign, but when you are seated, I suggest you leave it fastened." Her voice was calm and reassuring. It had no military sternness, and no paternal overtones. It had no maternal overtones. It was clear and warm, steady and sensitive. She wore her responsibility with ease. She did not say whether she was a mother. She could have been. I was more concerned that she was a good pilot. She proved that she was with her beautiful takeoff and landing. She proved it continually through the San Francisco fog, the midwest thunderstorms, and the night approach to the busy New York airport. I never doubted her abilities, and I don't think she did, either. The new female is competent in all that she chooses. She chooses whatever her heart tells her. She can create a business, lead a country, drive a truck, hammer nails, deliver mail, or raise a family. She is at home in every social and physical environment. She can be a housewife, if she chooses. She can be anything else, too. She is intuitive and heart centered. She is all that a female has been, and more.