Whatever has tumbled
in the waves or fallen in flames out of the sky …
(from “Holding the Light” by Stuart Kestenbaum)
We knew in our heart of hearts that if we could just hold on to the light it would come …. Spring. Our faith in the Spirit of Life trusted the snow to melt, the sun to shine, the dormant trees to bloom again, and they did! Here in Oregon the cherry blossoms are drawing crowds of Portlanders to the riverfront to take in the beauty of pink, to smile at strangers and have their pictures taken by a young couple with a vintage Polaroid. (Good Memories)
So it is here and where you are too (unless you happen to be in New Zealand or Australia) … the season of renewal, with the return of daffodils & robins & longering days (yes, I just made up that word), fresh beauty, and dare-we-say it – Hope.
Indeed, it’s been a month of what seems like more than our share of pain and loss, of doom and gloom, outlandish threats, maniacal declarations, insults added to injuries, and the dehumanizing of our neighbors, whether right next door or around the world. AND it has also been the 38th year of celebrating Women’s History Month. Starting as a week-long observance back in the 1970s, Women’s History Month in the U.S. has since grown into an annual commemoration, filled with celebrations and events that recognize the trailblazers whose words, actions or achievements have changed the world. We know many of their names and cite them often … Susan B. Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Rosa Parks, Ruth Bader Ginsburg; heavy hitters all. But here’s a list with little bios of 51 more that you may not have considered.
The history of women’s achievements reminds me of the late Maya Angelou’s poem, “Still I Rise” where she says … “You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted lies, you may trod me in the very dirt, but still, like dust, I’ll rise.” I love the stanzas that start with “Does my haughtiness offend you?” and “Does my sexiness upset you?” If you’d like to read the entire poem, here you go.
So … for this post’s focus, I decided to direct your attention to some of the women I know who cover a lot of the ground I’m interested in and whom I trust for information that is thoughtful and heartfelt; and a couple of men who do the same. Theirs is the kind of speaking, writing, and music that keeps me going.
As an ‘Aging Rascal’, I’ve found that I really do need a personal self-care plan. It requires skipping certain events that have the potential to upset my intestinal tract. So, I missed the Don (convicted felon) & Melania (movie star?) Show at the White House on Friday the 13th, billed as a “women’s history month tribute.” For events like this, I rely on my stronger sisters with stronger stomachs, like Heather Delaney Reese, to review events like the cheesy performance that happened in the obscenely gold-crusted East Room. Heather, who I feel blessed to have recently discovered, is one of those women who says out loud what some of us are just thinking. In reviewing that Friday White House circus, she calls out Melania Trump for who she is and even though she and her husband completely gutted the true meaning of what that event was supposed to be about, we know that Women’s History Month doesn’t belong to them. As Heather writes, it doesn’t belong to any one person or party. It belongs to everyone, men and women, anyone who has stood up and pushed for women to be seen as equals. We remember the suffragists who were beaten and jailed so women could vote. We remember the labor organizers who fought for safe workplaces and fair wages. We remember the women who walked into courtrooms, classrooms, newsrooms, and operating rooms when every door was closed to them and opened those doors anyway. That is the history this month was made for. And no staged photo op in the East Room can erase it.
Another of my favorite women of conscience and consciousness, is Jess Piper, who writes The View From Rural Missouri. She reminds me of my daughter, a retired teacher who inherited the family’s ‘farmer genes’ and believes deeply in the value of real education.
In her Substack post of March 24th, Jess pummels Missouri and its politicians over their views on education and speaks directly to what she sees as the reason for their efforts. She says in part: “I left teaching with an MA and 16 years of experience, making 41K per year. After teacher retirement was taken from my monthly check, I had $2,400 to live on each month. Many Missouri teachers don’t make that. Many bring home less than $2,000 per month. Even more than the awful salaries for Missouri teachers, over 33% of Missouri schools are forced to operate on a four-day week due to a lack of state funding. These short weeks help struggling schools — mostly rural schools — keep costs down and also allow teachers an extra day to find a side hustle to pay the bills.” Then come the most memorable words. “The weakening of public schools and the devaluing of teachers and the dismissal of the Liberal Arts are part of a deliberate effort to reshape America into a place where fewer people can think critically or organize collectively or question the power of those in power … The degrees that teach empathy and communication and critical thinking don’t make us “low-earning.” They make us dangerous. Dangerous to those who benefit from ignorance.” Note: If you choose to read the whole essay, you won’t be sorry.
Rebecca Solnit, some of you know the name, some do not. Those of you who do may already be familiar with this long, involved essay from The Guardian. Rebecca has a lot to say about a lot of things, and she definitely has her own delivery style. (Don’t we all?) Sometimes I appreciate “the long way ’round” and sometimes not so much. In this piece, “What technology takes from us – and how to take it back”, I particularly relate to the beautiful writing in her opening paragraphs.
Summer after summer, I used to descend into a creek that had carved a deep bed shaded by trees and lined with blackberry bushes whose long thorny canes arced down from the banks, dripping with sprays of fruit. Down in that creek, I’d spend hours picking until I had a few gallons of berries, until my hands and wrists were covered in scratches from the thorns and stained purple from the juice, until the tranquility of that place had soaked into me … I went there for berries, but I also went there for the quiet, the calm, the feeling of cool water on my feet and sometimes up to my knees as I waded in where the picking was good. At home I made jars of jam. When I gave them away I was trying to give not just my jam – which was admittedly runny and seedy – but something of the peace of that creek, of summer itself.
I once read an essay in which a man tried to figure out how much per pound his garden tomatoes would cost if he factored in the price of all the materials and the hourly rate for his own labour. It was ridiculous and intentionally so, because growing tomatoes gives so much more than a certain number of pounds of fruit. There’s the exquisite smell of tomato leaves, and the sense of time that comes from watching a plant grow, observing pollinators visit, seeing a flower become a fruit, tracking its ripening. There is the pride of doing something yourself.
What the tomato-grower was pointing toward is what my friend, the environmental activist and author Chip Ward, long ago called “the tyranny of the quantifiable.” You grow tomatoes for the process, not just the product, to garden as well as to eat. To do as well as to have.
It doesn’t matter if you hate blackberries and tomatoes, gardening and wading; everyone has their own version of deep immersion in the moment, of engaging with the world in an embodied and sensual way, whether it’s dancing or dog-walking, cake-decorating or dirt-biking. What does matter is that we are beset with the ideology of maximizing having while minimizing doing. This has long been capitalism’s narrative and is now also technology’s. It is an ideology that steals from us relationships and connections and eventually our selves. I want to defend these things we are urged to abandon. This isn’t an essay about AI per se; it’s about what gets lost when we unthinkingly accept what AI offers us. It’s an attempt to describe and value just what it is that gets overlooked or devalued.
If we’re going to really look into Women’s History, we cannot overlook Michelle Obama, the first Black First Lady to occupy the White House. Remember when she said this?
I could go on and on, there are so many more remarkable women out there (maybe you can share some of your favorites in comments), but I know how busy you are and that most likely you won’t be doing a lot of clicking. I do, though, want to mention just two more women I pay attention to. Heather Cox Richardson, an educator and historian with a talent for connecting the dots, is one of the most calm and steady voices I know and trust to think clearly and speak honestly. I faithfully read her “Letters From an American” and often watch her Politics Chat. Elizabeth Cronise McLaughlin heads the Gaia Leadership Institute, posts on Blue Sky and videos three times a week on Resistance Live. It’s here (Resistance Live) that I invite you to take a look at her offering on Tuesday, March 24th as she addresses head-on “Why ‘All Hope is Lost’ Content Keeps You Stuck (and what effective activists do instead).” Elizabeth is a former lawyer and a lifelong civil rights advocate with what I happen to think is a brilliant legal mind. In addition, her knowledge and awareness of addictive behaviors, malignant narcissism, and trauma response is extraordinary and she is not afraid to speak out! I have to confess that her passionate delivery style when ‘speaking out’ can put me a bit on edge, but it’s her legal mind and down-to-earth advice that keeps me coming back. For instance, her three simple steps to becoming an effective activist … Stabilize / Specify / Activate. (It’s a 14-minute video, if you’re interested).
I said there were two men I also wanted to direct your attention to and here they are. The first is John Pavlovitz whose newsletter is called THE BEAUTIFUL MESS. His March 10th post really grabbed me.
Yes, White Men, We’re the Problem. All of Us.
The Second Guy is one you may already know … Robert Arnold. I know I’m not the only one who loves him. Whether Robert’s column is new to you or you read him regularly, as I do, what he has to say in his March 15th post titled “Women’s History Month For My Daughter” is more than worth the time it will take to listen to him … Let this gentle southern Dad crack open your cynical heart as he tells us what kind of a daughter he is raising.
Okay then, that’s it for now. A lot, I know. Maybe too much for one day, but sometimes I just can’t stop myself. I may still be riding the glow of the Sunday Service I just had the privilege of leading at my UU Fellowship on March 22nd, where I got to share some of my favorite “Poetry & Music of Protest, Resistance, & Hope.” If you’ve got an hour to spare and didn’t make it to church last week, you’re welcome to watch it anytime.
OR, if you’d rather, maybe another of the “good guys”, Keb ‘Mo, is more to your liking with this song he wrote to honor his activist mom after her passing at 91. Either way, ENJOY! Hang in there & Hit the Streets Singing!
Until next time, Much Love, Good Trouble, and all the Rascality we can muster.
Sulima
Buying me an occasional coffee helps me keep these stories coming … and gives me one less reason to cross my fingers when my Social Security payment is due!
