Women's History is World History

In the history of the world, where would we be without women?

We've brought everyone here who ever came into the world. Carried them in our bellies, in our arms, and on our backs. Throughout history, we've worked to feed and clothe and protect them. Women have been the glue that has kept the world together and the starch that gives it backbone.

So this Women's History Month, celebrating women's accomplishments is fine, but a whole lot more celebrating and acknowledgement could be happening--throughout the year.

We do see abundant appreciation of women's, especially mothers', influence and sacrifices when their youngster makes good and is successful. And I'm sure many of us show gratitude, outside of the public eye, for those women who came before us.

In honor of the women who created the history of my life and set me on my path, I'm sharing a poem of gratitude and commitment.

The Gift

My grandmothers' shoulders were broad
Cream-colored, sepia, walnut, and black
Sometimes ridges, like the edges
of the furrows they tilled,
Ribboned their backs and shoulders
They supported the known world
like Atlas held up the heavens
they stood proud and strong

On the broad shoulders of these wide-hipped women
my grandmothers and their grandmothers,
On their convictions
Their work
their dreams
I stood

Now I'm one of the grandmothers
It's my turn to support the tribe
be here
strong, balanced, braced
so on my shoulders
others can stand

We, the women, all of us, are the history makers every single day.

~ xoA ~



"The Gift" appears in my poetry collection, You Can't Have It All

The Book of Longings

The Book of Longings This month two of my book clubs read and discussed Sue Monk Kidd’s latest historical fiction novel, The Book of Longings, the imagined story of Ana, a scribe who became the wife of Jesus. Here’s an excerpt from the beginning of the book: I am Ana. I was the wife of Jesus ben Joseph of Nazareth. I called him Beloved and he, laughing, called me Little Thunder. He said he heard rumblings inside me while I slept, a sound like thunder from far over the Nahal Zippori valley or even farther beyond the Jordan. I don’t doubt he heard something. All my life, longings lived inside me, rising up like nocturnes to wail and sing through the night. That my husband bent his heart to mine on our thin straw mat and listened was the kindness I most loved in him. What he heard was my life begging to be born. Ana, the only daughter in a wealthy family has been allowed to learn to read and write. Bold and rebellious, she aspires to do and be more than the conventional women of her times, where women are often ignored, enslaved, or silenced. She writes women’s stories so they are not forgotten, in hopes her words will live on after she’s gone. A constant in Ana’s life is her Aunt Yaltha, a companion and protector who encourages and sustains her. In her first encounters with Jesus, he shows her great kindness and even saves her from a terrible fate. She falls in love with him, and he with her. They marry, each knowing the other longs to do extraordinary things and follow the calling of their perceived purpose, their deepest longing. Kidd is a magnificent writer who diligently researched the era. With her skillful use of language and timely settings and events, I felt transported to the 1st Century. She takes us on a journey of adventures and brushes with societal and political issues as well as the horrors Ana must face and navigate in this time of turmoil during Israel’s occupation by Rome. One of the takeaways for me from the book is that we all have longings and desires—as did each character in Kidd’s book. Sometimes these emerge in our childhood or youth. For others, it may take some living, experiences, and introspection before our deep longings, or as my niece Juli Greenwald calls it, our heartfelt desires, becomes clear. When they do, though, I think it’s important to ask ourselves whether we’re on a course to satisfy those longings. We may also discover our desire has shifted with time. We do have the opportunity to change our actions and approaches to fulfillment, a chance to create something new, no matter our age or position. I think about my longings at different stages of my life. When I was younger, a girl growing up in Detroit in the 1950s, I had a great desire to travel the world. That yearning continued over the years and is still with me. It pleases me to know I have accomplished this and hope to continue when we’re able to travel again. In my adult years, I realized my longing, my calling, is to encourage and to connect people and ideas. Teaching, coaching, and writing have been the vehicles to fulfill this desire. And I am grateful for all the experiences that have allowed me to do this. If we had our own Book of Longings, what might you inscribe on your page? If you do read, or have already read, Sue Monk Kidd’s The Book of Longings, I’d love for you to share your takeaways and opinions. ~ xoA ~

Reblog: The history of Man by Barbara Lindsay

I'm reading a thoughtful book by the wonderful American historian Heather Cox Richardson titled How the South Won the Civil War. This book takes a look at the history of this country starting with its founding. I'm finding it a challenging read, not because it isn't clearly written, but because back in those days, it was the Republicans who were against slavery (they were the good guys) and Democrats who wanted to perpetuate that institution (the bad guys). I have to keep transposing in my mind who the parties were then with who (whom?) they have become today, when it is Democrats who want to create, for example, affordable health care for all (the good guys) and Republicans who made almost 70 attempts to curb, repeal, and/or modify that plan without offering a better one of their own (the bad guys). It is Democrats who elected the first Black President (the good guys) and Republicans who elected Trump (the bad guys). It is also a challenging book because of how clearly, how glaringly it brings into focus that this country was founded on a broken promise. The Declaration of Independence states "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal..." What isn't stated but is a true founding principle of the United States is "And we do mean men. And by that we mean white men. Specifically white men with property. Basically men like us. And no women. Definitely no women." I understand that a lot of countries have been founded on less than ethical terms, through violence or confiscation or the notion of the Divine Right of the few, etc. But in this country, we have this document shouting out our moral superiority and our commitment to equality. And, sadly, the promise of that document wasn't even being kept by those who wrote it, who saw Negroes as only partially men, Native Americans as dispensable savages, and women as baby makers who help men in their pursuit of happiness. We are paying now for the rot at the core of our national birth. We have always been paying for it. Some, of course, pay a higher price than others, but all of us pay as our hypocrisies and cruelties continue to catch up with us. I can't speak to earlier ages except from what I learn from books, but I know about this present time that violence has been encouraged from the highest levels of government and so is blossoming. Too few people have too much, and too many have too little. And those who have will do what they can to keep and increase what they have. For some, no amount of wealth is enough, and damn those who have nothing. Another part of why this is such a sad truth is that it has always been so, from the beginning of time. Those who have power and stuff do what they can, what they must, to hold onto what they have, using violence, twisting laws, breaking promises, organizing armies. It seems to be in the very nature of humankind. Or is it just the nature of mankind? What kind of world might this be if women had had, or been given, equal power, equal say all along? Ah, but if women had power given to them, that power could also be taken away, and to take it for ourselves would probably mean becoming more like the men who take and take and take in any way they feel they need to. I don't know. I guess the only resting place, for me at least, is to acknowledge that the world is as it is, people are as they are, and my job is to do whatever good I can, to be kind, be honest, be aware of others. I suppose that's the only way there can be any sort of balance among people and peoples. Good people must be good, even if we will never be powerful. I don't hold out much hope that my attempts at goodness will solve a single one of the world's problems, nor even my neighborhood's problems, but still, it's what I can do, it's what I have to offer, it's the only way I will be able to live peaceably with myself. Still, can we all just get along? Musings from Granny Owl