Phyllis McGinley (1905-1978) was a victim of cancel culture long before that idea existed.
After she’d won the 1961 Pulitzer for her poetry—the first American poet ever to be so honored for light verse—W.D. Snodgrass, who was awarded the Pulitzer the previous year, commented that this “was horrifying; she used to write silly little verses for ‘The Saturday Evening Post.’” 
Today, the genre of light verse is virtually non-existent. Eroded as well are the institutions—marriage, the traditional family, a home of one’s own—that were dear to McGinley and were so very much a part of her work. We know where she stands, for example, when we read the first sentence of her collection of essays, “Sixpence in Her Shoe,” which reads, “This is a book for, by, and about the American housewife.” Three paragraphs later, she proudly declares, “By temperament I am a nest builder. I have other occupations, chiefly writing and the delights of conversation. Yet to keep a house is my native vocation and I consider it an honorable estate.”…