Showing posts with label strong. Show all posts
Showing posts with label strong. Show all posts

Monday, September 10, 2018

Why Women?

       Every now and then I stumble across someone who seems to legitimately not care about women's rights.  I can ALMOST see how an uninformed type male wouldn't understand the struggle and pressures of being born a female (or a male that identifies as female), but what really gets me is when a woman doesn't care.  I understand that feminism is MY passion, but how could any woman truly feel unaffected by the women's movement?  How could any female not feel ecstatically proud of how far we've come?  The only answer I can conceive is that we have done our job.  If a young girl has truly never felt discriminated against, looked down on, treated as lesser or dumber or weaker, then thank the goddesses that all of their hard work has paid off!  For those of you who are unaffected by the sweat, fear, and pain of our sister suffragettes, let me enlighten you.  For those who have never been passed over for a job position or told to return for a business deal when you can bring your husband to assist you, to those who have never been whistled at like cattle in a roundup or been told that their place was in the home, let me fill you in on what's been happening outside of your little bubble.  On August 26, 1920, the 19th amendment was ratified.  This amendment finally gave American women the right to vote after a nearly 100 year long fight.  100 years!  It took an entire century to convince the government that women should have the same rights as a man!  During this time reform groups began multiplying all over the United States- temperance leagues, religious movements, moral-reform societies, anti-slavery organizations- ultimately leading up to the redefinition of the noun "woman".  We get to live a comparatively comfortable life, whether or not we choose to pay homage to a legacy that over seven generations of women toiled to achieve through meetings, petition drives, lobbying, public speaking, and nonviolent resistance.  We no longer have to marry and bear heirs in order to be taken care of; we don't have to be subservient and obedient maids.  We get to vote, work a fulfilling job with the right to equal pay and we get to keep that job legally when we become pregnant.  Our husbands do not own us, get to beat us, or take sex whenever they choose.  WE choose to become doctors, lawyers, ministers, astronauts, to own property, to own a credit card, to fight on the front lines.  WE CHOOSE to have bank accounts, serve on a jury, take birth control, wear practical bathing suits, go to college, breastfeed in public, or run the Boston marathon.  Watching the Olympics was a crime for women, punishable by death (!), for the ancient Greeks.  Women in New York City were banned from smoking cigarettes in public until 1908 because it was considered unbecoming.  English women were disallowed to play in soccer matches until 1971 because the game was declared unsuitable for the female body.  To this day it is supposedly still LEGAL for a man to beat his wife in South Carolina, as long as it takes place on the courthouse steps on a Sunday.  The town of Owensboro, KY has a law that prohibits women from purchasing hats without her husbands consent.  It's still illegal (though unenforced) for women in California to wear a housecoat while driving, and the city of Logan, Utah prohibits women from swearing.  All of these ridiculous grievances aside, women who reside in countries other than our own are still being treated as less valuable than men, and in some cases less valuable than animals.  Saudi women were banned from operating vehicles until June of 2018.  In Yemen women are only considered to be half of a witness when testifying in court, and they aren't allowed to testify at all in cases of adultery or sodomy.  In Morocco if a woman is raped then she faces charges for leaving her home without a male escort, and in this most recent case a sixteen year old girl committed suicide after a judge sentenced her to marry her rapist.  What happened on the planet earth where this sort of gross mistreatment is considered normal?  Where is the disconnect in our brains that makes women seem less important, less worthy, anything less than magical?  We are the strong, the passionate, the indestructible, the indomitable.  We birth this earth.
Any more questions?

“That woman has too long rested satisfied in the circumscribed limits which corrupt customs and a perverted application of the Scriptures have marked out for her, and that it is time she should move in the enlarged sphere which her great Creator has assigned her.”

 (Photo by Chris Ware/Keystone Features/Getty Images)

"September 1953: Twenty-one year old Alice Penfold, a professional strong woman from Bury, near Pulborough, Sussex, flexes her biceps. She can tear telephone directories in half and lift a 146 lb woman with her teeth."
- Flashbak

Thursday, April 19, 2018

"White Woman Syndrome- This Woman's Journey Of Self Discovery" with guest blogger Ellie M. Bateman

       Growing up it was always my perception that I was a "white" child.  Being born in the heart of the nineteen sixties, even a child too young to verbalize it knew that being white spared you from being ridiculed and called unkind names by some of the other children on your block.  Around the time that I entered school I was starting to mimic parental behaviors, and fortunately my parents taught me that I was never to make fun of those different than myself, but rather to offer my friendship.  At this time began the early formation of character.  Fast forward many years; I am now middle-aged.  With both of my parents now passed away I feel compelled to understand my ancestral history all the more.  A generous gift from a wonderful friend allowed me the opportunity to discover the answers at Christmastime.  She purchased me gifts- one using 23andMe and one using Ancestry.  There were known factors, yes, and confirmation of my Native American heritage.  But I discover so much more!  All at once I know that I am of 28% African background, with most of that being from around the area of Kenya, and a trace of Ethiopian.  I am 12% Semitic, of a Spanish-Jewish line, 9% Lenape, and 5% Sioux.  I am not in fact a "white" girl, but rather a woman of many races who happens to be light complected.  What does this mean to me?  It means that along with the shame I carry that some of my European ancestors owned human beings and raped and otherwise tortured them, I also carry pride in the courage of my African ancestors.  It means that I am Jewish according to maternal heritage lines.  It means that I am of Spanish heritage.  Then there is my Native American heritage; such a rich and beautiful culture!  The most important thing it means is this: embrace all of it!  No matter what criticism it gets you from the racists and the bigots, for the women I came from were strong!  Sometimes if I listen in the silence, though you don't hear them, it is as though they whisper, "Find us!  Tell each story!  Because you are us and we are you!"  To every woman I say: take your own journey and find who you are!
       -Leslie Marie (Ellie M.) Bateman
What's your heritage?
   
Photo by Jessica Bigi

"My name is Leslie Marie Bateman, but some friends call me Ellie M. because my first name starts with an "L" and my middle name with an "M".  I like the nickname and invite new friends to use it as well.  My life is busy with budgets and dust rags and dishes.  Ode to joy!  My life is busy with gardening and reading and late night writing.  My children have red hair and tails.  The thing I value most is kindness.  I deeply love kids and animals and nature.  I am much concerned with the safety of women and children.  No one earns my trust if they don't give it as well.  I am a wonderful friend, or so I am told.  My wish for all?  Love and peace.  Go ahead and call me a tail-end baby boomer.  I don't mind, that is exactly what I am."  
-Leslie Marie Bateman AKA Ellie M.

Sunday, April 8, 2018

Spotlight! on Sarah Howle -Break The Chain

       I run through the rain with my hands insufficiently covering my hair until I can hop the stone steps that lead to the wooden porch.  A surfboard hangs to my left and the door directly before me leaks soft guitar licks and hair-raising whispers from the cracks.  I turn the doorknob and push with my shoulder to find a young crooner perched in a bench across the room with her legs crossed.  Upon my arrival her voice immediately stops and a smile spreads across her unsure lips as she introduces herself to my drenched face for the first time.  This is Sarah Howle, eighteen year old Virgo and aspiring star from a little country town in South Carolina called Hartsville.  But those are just her bio facts, what I want to see is her soul.  I tell her not to mind my presence as I slink to a bedded corner to eagerly await the ghostly tunes of her breath once more.  Sarah inhales and begins a song, hesitant at first, but then I see her angle her head downwards with her long hair partly covering her face.  This gives her just enough of a shield to remember herself as her eyes close and she begins to feel the words that are magically pouring from somewhere deep in her belly.  I close my own eyes and lay enchanted at the passion that I can clearly hear in her words.  I love that she doesn't try to sing the song exactly the way that Stevie Nicks did; instead she loves the lyrics and makes them her own, in her own key, in her own time, and she just blows me away.  I imagine that if her soul could slip from her body it would take the shape of a cat and howl its pain at the midnight moon.
      Sarah quoted some of the lyrics to me, things like, "slipping into the denseness of my loneliness," and "even if I found you you'd be so cold" and I knew that this young woman was special.  She remembers an agonizing juncture when she was just a little girl.  Both of her parents were drinking too much and little Sarah went through a time when she didn't quite feel safe.  That hidden pain grew into anxiety and depression that can only be relieved by crying her torment through the words that she sings.  Still hesitant of herself, she closes her eyes and imagines that she is standing alone in a wide open field at 2:15 in the morning.  There is no one around and the air has a chill that clings to her skin.  Within this fictional safe haven she is able to open her soul and pour her beautiful voice out for all to drink in.  Sarah was originally inspired by her maternal grandmother who used to sing gospel tunes on the television.  Her brothers were also catalysts on the road to finding her voice.  Sarah's older brother is a piano man who encourages her through his wisdom, and her younger brother heartens her with his pure soul.  "He was a blessing in disguise," she says of her three year old brother, Charlie.  "He was a surprise child and I realized that it wasn't just all about me.  He makes me want to do good and make the world a better place for him." 
       I had the most amazing time with this passionate young lady today.  Putting Sarah's physical merit aside, she is unmistakably beautiful through her intuition, loving passion, and ambitious strength.  She uses the only instrument that she can play to soothe and condition the hurt in her soul.  Her voice is a tool that she can carry with her wherever she goes and escape into its safe place, whether she's surrounded by hundreds of people or laying alone in her dark and soundless room with her mind wandering to the wide corners of her needs, desires, and dreams.
What's your escape?