March! - Sulima Malzin, herSelf

almost Spring, almost warm, and suddenly … there is more light, and suddenly daffodils and robins and the smell of damp earth yearning for fresh seeds.

Suddenly it’s March again. Women’s History Month … In like a lion, out like a lamb? We’ll see about that.

Four years ago this month our lives were totally upended by the Covid19 world-wide pandemic that left millions dead in its wake. Some still say we will never be the same (and maybe that’s a good thing). Yet, here we are, maybe not the same, but here, pulling up our Big Girl underpants and stepping into the fray (and there will always be a fray to step into) in whatever way works best for each of us. It is, after all, Women’s History Month and what better time to celebrate US?

With so many amazing role models to choose from, I’ve decided to focus on a couple of women whose names will be familiar and others whose names you may not know.

Some of you saw my February post that ended with “Remember to feed the birds. Hope, after all, is the thing with feathers.” Well, very soon after that came news of the Birds Without Borders project and Margaret Atwood’s gift of her unpublished poem on a hand-lettered poster, “Crow Funeral.” What a privilege to share it with you. Come gather in trees to mourn and rage! Ruffle your sleek black feathers!	Click to enlarge
	On its heels came the President’s State of the Union address and with it this month’s Two (not just one) Shame on You Awards. It’s been quite awhile since I felt compelled to present one of these. They traditionally go to women that Keb Mo’ did not have in mind when he sang “Put a Woman in Charge”. I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the notoriety of these two will be short-lived, but hey, it’s Women’s History and they are part of it. First to the (hopefully) one and only Margery Taylor Greene, attending the SOTU in her lettered red baseball cap, and second to the Kitchen Table Senator from Alabama, Katie Britt, who gave the marginally powerful party-in-residence response.
Just for balance, may I introduce you to Jess Piper? With a much sharper tongue than mine, she writes a column called “The View From Rural Missouri” and I met her through Heather Cox Richardson. If you’d like to read her response to the above-mentioned comedy hour, connect to her March 8^th (International Women’s Day) Letters from an American by clicking on the link at the bottom of this post.	Click to read Jess Piper’s substack
Read the ‘Climate of Kindness’ report	And while I’m introducing … my friend Heidi Heydlauf, who is an ESOL volunteer (just one of her “in retirement’ volunteer adventures) brightened one of my duller March days by sending me her recent Climate of Kindness report. Maybe you’d like to start one of your own. Heidi graciously gave me permission to share hers. I hope it will brighten your day as well.
The next thing I knew the Ides of March were upon us (coincidentally?) Ruth Bader Ginsburg’s birthday. One of my favorite RBG quotes is Fight for the things that you care about, but do it in a way that will lead others to join you. Such good advice from such a wise elder. When Ruth died in September of 2020, my gaggle of Raging Grannies held an evening vigil and a march across Portland’s Tillicum Bridge. It was my honor to offer the memorium. You can read it here, if you’d like.
Click to enlarge	I realize that some of you may be too young to remember that Texas tornado Molly Ivins, but if you do, wouldn’t you love to hear what she might have to say to Greg Abbot?
And right about here, while we’re on the subjects of Kindness and Generosity, let’s give a big shout-out to the novelist philanthropist, MacKenzie Scott. Once married to Jeff Bezos, MacKenzie is currently the third wealthiest woman in the country. As of this January, the author of The Testing of Luther Albright who will turn 54 in April, is reported to have a net worth of $40.6000,000,000 (Yes, that’s “billion”). Her commitment to philanthropy has her giving away “at least half” of her wealth to charities. This week it was announced that she just gave another $640 million to 361 small nonprofits that responded to an open call for applications. Three of them are in Oregon. While I, personally, have never had a chance to test my theory, I like to think of money as a tool like any other tool … it’s not how much you have, but what you do with it that matters. You can learn more about MacKenzie’s work on Wikipedia.

This year’s March has been and continues to be a month rich with the promise of the generosities of Spring and an Easter Basket of hope. Maybe the month will go out like a lamb, and maybe it will roar right into April. We will know soon enough.

And speaking of April … if you happen to be in the Portland area on Sunday the 21^st, I would love for you to join my “Pre-emptive Celebration of Life (aka 85^th Birthday) and the launch of my new chapbook, Tributaries … poems of homage & gratitude”. You can RSVP online here! And here’s a copy of the invitation.

And speaking of poetry … here are two that I just couldn’t resist sharing; Rosemerry’s especially, given my plan for a pre-emptive Celebration of Life. Of course, her line about “forming in my mother’s womb” in 1969 is 20 years late, but so what! Poetry is Poetry. The best line is “We do what we can and have mercy.” And as for Barbie qualifying for Medicare … you decide. It has some great lines!

AFTER MY FRIEND PHYLLIS SHOWS ME THE
NEW YORK TIMES OBITUARY HEADLINE: ‘LOU MICHAELS,
ALL-PURPOSE PLAYER, DIES AT 80, MISSED KICKS IN
’69 SUPER BOWL’
By Rosemerry Trommer
after Wayne Muller’s A Life of Being, Having, and Doing Enough

When I die, let them write about
all the mistakes I’ve made.
Let them mention in the headlines
how many rejection letters
I’ve received from The Sun.
Let them say, “Missed her calling
for Broadway back in 1987.”
Let them say, “She trained hard, but
never won a Nordic skate race.”
They can note how my children
fought in front of company.
How every chocolate cake
I made sank in the center. How the beets
in my garden were never bigger
than golf balls. How I never even watched
the Super Bowl, much less
knew who played for the Colts
back in 1969 while I was still
forming in my mother’s womb
and Lou Michaels missed two
field goals that helped the Jets win.
What do any of us really accomplish?
My friend Wayne says,
“We do what we can
and have mercy.” Yes, let
them say I did what I could.
Let them say that I loved
the best I knew how and messed
that up, too. It’s what we do,
we who are kicking our way
to the back pages of the paper.
Well-intentioned and foundering,
faithful and confused as we are,
we mess up. Yes, mercy on us,
mercy on all our failing little hearts,
how they beat so sincerely, mercy
on this longing to shine, this
reminder again to kneel.

POEM IN WHICH BARBIE QUALIFIES FOR MEDICARE
By Denise Duhamel

Barbie never thought too much about her eligibility.
She’d loved AARP—the discounts at Sunglass Hut
and Outback Steakhouse—when she waved
her bright red card. She’d been born to shop,
but the medical world was still a mystery to her.
Sure, one of her first careers was as a Registered Nurse,
and a decade later, she became an MD. But she had
little experience being a patient except when children
made her a papier mâché arm cast or shaved off her hair
in play-chemo. Without vertebrae or femur,
Barbie never took a bone density test or had to worry
about osteoporosis. Menopause had been a breeze—
no hot flashes, no bleeding to miss. She was spotless
when it came to age spots, even after all those years
in the sun. No pee when she sneezed. No cataracts
despite the fact that she never blinked. She still drove
at night but was considering trading in her convertible
for a cushy Lincoln town car to arrive in Medicare-style
for her annual checkups. She was looking forward to a ride
in an MRI then consulting a podiatrist to see if anyone could
at last help ease her feet into New Balance sneakers.
The dermatologist told her Botox was covered if Barbie
suffered from migraines. Her smile had never given way
to laugh lines or crow’s feet. Still, Barbie lifted her hands
to her temples and told a white lie—why yes,
those headaches have sometimes been so fierce I’ve had to retreat
into my dark box to rest. After all, Barbie
was a American boomer and wanted her fair share,
what she thought she deserved, what was coming to her.

I could go on for pages more, but it’s another (4th in a row) beautiful day here in Oregon and I promised myself I would clean up the mess the birds have made of my deck. Alas, there seems to be no such thing as ‘no waste’ seed.

I invite you to check out the list of links below, especially the amazing “Conversations” essay about what the Buddhist text, Therigatha, teaches regarding women’s enlightenment; and perhaps the one that speaks to what the anti-zionist (or non-zionist) Jews are saying about support for Israel.

And if you haven’t heard Keb Mo’ and Roseanne Cash singing “Put a Woman in Charge” lately, here you go.

Until we meet again, try practicing both Kindness & Rascality. It will confuse people and it’s a good way to keep us on our toes. Here’s what George Saunders has to say about that.

Don’t be afraid to be confused. Try to remain permanently confused. Anything is possible. Stay open, forever, so open it hurts, and then open up some more, until the day you die, world without end, amen.

Blessings on Us All, Every One Everywhere.
Sulima