End of<br >the Beginning<br >tired of the<br >I did not intend to write another book on the<br >woman question. I have already started a major<br >new quest that is taking me way beyond my<br >previous concerns， opening strange doors. I am<br >pragmatic， earthbound battles of the women s<br >movement， tired of rhetoric. I want to live the rest of my life.<br > But these past few years， fulfilling my professional and<br >p~litical commitments， and picking up the pieces of my per-<br >sonal life， for which the women s movement has been the<br >focus for nearly twenty years， I have been nagged by a new，<br >uneasy urgency that won t let me leave. Listening to my own<br >daughter and sons， and others of their generation whom I<br >meet， lecturing at universities or professional conferences or<br >feminist networks around the country and around the world，<br >I sense something off， out of focus， going wrong， in the terms<br >by which they are trying to live the equality we fought for.<br > From these daughters---getting older now， working so<br >hard， determined not to be trapped as their mothers were，<br >and expecting so much， taking for granted the opportunities<br >we had to struggle for--I ve begun to hear undertones of<br >pain and puzzlement， a queasiness， an uneasiness， almost a<br >bitterness that they hardly dare admit. As if with all those<br >opportunities that we won for them， and envy them， how can<br > 3<br ><br >