Second-Wave Feminist’s Call for Free, Universal Child Care

Vicki Breitbart and Beverly Leman’s “The Women Who Take Care of Children: Why Child Care” was published in the January 1971 issue of Up From Under. This educational essay highlights the benefits of universal, free childcare.

Second-Wave feminists urged society to share the responsibility of motherhood with women. Prior to the movement, society shamed women for their desire to be more than mothers. By refusing any support for mothers, society kept women in their socially-defined role. Second-Wave feminists quickly realized for women to gain any freedoms, not only would they have to realize their strength, but also society would have to change with them. In the editorial statement of the February 1971 issue, Up From Under’s editors discuss the paradigm shifts required to change the narrative around motherhood. They explain “society has a responsibility to provide universal, free childcare” (Albert et al. 4). Universal, free childcare is child care accessible to all families with children younger than school age. In this issue of Up From Under, the editors feature essays that expand on the importance and implications of universal childcare. For example, in their article titled “The Women Who Take Care of Children: Why Child Care,” Vicki Breitbart and Beverly Leman proclaim “our very important step toward realizing ourselves and closing the gap between our duties and desires is free, universal child care…it is a step toward erasing the idea that if others care for our children it is some sort of personal failure” (Breitbart et al. 6). Feminists urge society to give all women access to childcare, allowing mothers to prioritize something other than the needs of their family and children. Free universal childcare would empower women to explore their identity beyond motherhood. Additionally, in the essay, they emphasize that free universal child care would promote society’s success (Breitbart et al. 7). Women could more easily contribute to the workforce, while also, raising their children –the next generation of workers. Through the creation of universal childcare, society could share the responsibility of motherhood, and, also, create a more successful economy.

The New York Times featured Claire Cain Miller’s “How Other Nations Pay for Childcare. The U.S. Is an Outlier.” on October 6, 2021. This article discusses a modern look on accessibility to childcare. Also, it highlights the benefits of childcare in a COVID-19 world.

Although Second-Wave Feminism vehemently advocated for universal childcare, even today, the United States still does not adequately support families. In Claire Cain Miller’s New York Times article, published on October 6, 2021, titled “How Other Nations Pay for Child Care. The U.S. Is an Outlier.,” she highlights the modern child care problems. In the article, Miller features Elizabeth Davis’s comment about spending on child care in the 21st century. Davis, an economist studying child care at the University of Minnesota, states “we as a society, with public funding, spend so much less on children before kindergarten than once they reach kindergarten yet the science of child development shows how very important investments in the youngest ages are, and we get societal benefits from those investments” (qtd. in Miller). Even today, the United States does not provide access to child care. Not only does this problem perpetuate women’s subjugation to house work and child care, but also it prevents children from developing skills they will need for success in future schooling and work. Miller explains “studies in the United States have also found that subsidized child care and preschool increase the chance that mothers keep working, particularly low-income women” (Miller). Many families rely on the incomes of both parents. Without access to adequate, free child care, women many times stay home, leaving their families without this integral source of income. The cycle of a limiting motherhood continues, affecting low-income women more than anyone else. Although the US has increased accessibility to child care in some ways, it still does not do enough.

 

Sources:

Albert, Marilyn, et al., editors. Up From Under, vol. 1, no. 3, 1970, pp. 1–57.

Breitbart, Vicki, and Beverly Leman. “‘The Women Who Take Care of Children: Why Child Care.’” Up From Under, vol. 1, no. 3, ser. 1, 1 Feb. 1971, pp. 10–14.

Miller, Claire Cain. “How Other Nations Pay for Child Care. The U.S. Is an Outlier.” The New York Times: The Upshot , NYTimes , 6 Oct. 2021, Accessed 11 Dec. 2021.

“Edward the Dyke” by Judy Grahn

The short poetic story, “Edward the Dyke” written by Judy Grahn in 1965 demonstrates society’s limited understanding of what women could be. This limited understanding is born from the erasure of lesbians and other radical women from history. Through this story Grahn is showing another way to be a woman and combating this erasure. The preservation of this story in archives also fights this erasure of women by remembering the way that lesbian women have been treated and viewed by society.

In this story, Edward is seeing a psychoanalyst who is trying to “cure” her. Edward starts the session off by saying “my problem this week chiefly concern[s] restrooms” and describes the physical assault she endured by the other women in the bathroom after they learned she was a lesbian (Grahn 26). The psychiatrist ignores what Edward says and instead writes down that Edward had an “apparent suicide attempt after accosting girls in restroom” (Grahn 26). The doctor’s dismissal of Edward’s concerns is repeated throughout the story. Edward describes a beautiful ten year relationship she had and the psychiatrist says “you see the folly of these brief physical embraces” (Grahn 28). Edward has a date with a man in which she dresses up, “does unspeakable things to [her] armpits with a razor” and “feels truly immobilized” by the clothes she wore (Grahn 29). The psychiatrist ignores her pain and says “good, good” and continues to force Edward into a box she will never fit in, in order to “cure” her (Grahn 29).

Illustration of Edward the Dyke from Judy Grahn’s collection of poetry, The Work of a Common Woman, published in 1978

However, this box is antithetical to her happiness. Edward only shows happiness when talking about her former lover or describing her identity as a lesbian. When the psychiatrist asks Edward to describe what homosexuality means to her, Edward uses beautiful imagery of “warm and water,” “cinnamon toast poetry” and “justice equality higher wages” (Grahn 27). Edward remembers her lover “laying in [Edward’s] arms harps played soft in dry firelight” (Grahn 28). It is clear through this powerful and beautiful language that Edward finds peace, beauty, and happiness in loving women.

This happiness is contrasted by the “treatment” the psychiatrist gives her. Firstly, Edward shouts “I am vile! I am vile!” after the psychiatrist has told her she “wants to kill her mother” and that she is narcissistic, masochistic, and sadistic (Grahn 30). Secondly, the shock therapy makes Edward scream in pain. The psychiatrist cares only about curing Edward’s homosexuality to fit her into heteronormative society. Edward, by the end of her session, has internalized this message and at the end of the shock therapy says, “I’m saved” (Grahn 30). Grahn warns about how easy it is for one to succumb to society’s view that lesbianism is wrong and unwomanly. Through satirizing the psychoanalytic process, this story proposes the idea that society’s view of womanhood is limited and incomplete. Grahn is attempting to validate and normalize the lesbian identity through satire. With the preservation of this story, future generations can turn to it to find comfort in knowing that their identity is valid, true and has been around for many years. By preserving this story in archives, this message will be available for future generations which allows for the lesbian liberation movement to grow and continue.

Works Cited:

Grahn, Judy. “Edward the Dyke.” The Work of a Common Woman, Diana Press, 1978.

“Untitled” by Lydia D Kelly

Lydia D Kelly’s untitled poem featured in Women: A Journal For Liberation, redefines motherhood in a nuclear family by addressing the unspoken truth of postpartum depression. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC), one in eight women experience symptoms of postpartum depression, which include feeling disconnected from their child, doubting their abilities as a mother, and an increase in crying and anger (Depression among Women). During the Second Wave Feminist movement, periodicals began to expose this harsh reality that many women face. In her poem, Kelly battles with her emotions through the journey of motherhood in order to unite women in this common experience.

Kelly’s poem was published in the Women’s Spring 1973 Journal.

Kelly’s three-stanza poem mirrors the three stages of motherhood: pregnancy, birth, and childcare. She starts off by describing her experience with pregnancy as “eager to begin / this tedious business / of dying” (Kelly, 39). Kelly compares the process of motherhood as the “business of dying,” a complicated process that will eventually lead to the death of herself. Pregnancy changes a woman emotionally and physically. It can be an isolating experience, which can lead to the development of postpartum depression. Society has glorified the experience of pregnancy by promoting the beauty of women carrying a child but disregards all negative experiences women face with pregnancy and birth.
Therefore, Kelly continues to describe her birth as parasitic. She shares her draining birth experience as “so you sucked your / mouth until the / liquid disappeared / like my womb, / my youth, / my marriage” (Kelly, 39). The child is the parasite and she is the host–leeching out all she has left. Birth is a life-changing experience that comes with new responsibilities and a new outlook on life. In Kelly’s experience, her birth put an end to her womb, youth, and marriage. Her whole life will now be dedicated to raising her child, slowly losing herself in the process. Like Kelly, many women also are faced with this reality. Society portrays childbirth as a joyous experience for mothers, but ultimately neglects the negative aspects and emotional toll of child-rearing.

In the same periodical, Mary Lawrence illustrates a distorted figure, crammed inside a house. Inside the figure is a child. Lawrence illustrates the confinement of mothers in the nuclear family. Mothers are physically trapped in a home that is exceedingly demanding.

Kelly ends her poem by sharing the conflicting emotions of being faced with motherhood. Her alternating state of emotions from “I hate you, / I love you, / I wish you were . . / . . asleep” illustrates the common symptoms of postpartum depression (Kelly, 39). Once again, Kelly references the state of dying, but this time hints that she wishes her child was dead. The use of ellipses shows the hesitation of revealing Kelly’s actual meaning behind her emotions. She battles with her creeping thoughts and is afraid of being labeled a “bad mother” or “unloving” to her child.
Postpartum depression, then and now, is an all too common form of depression that women face after having a child. Women who express symptoms of postpartum depression are often labeled as “bad” and “unloving.” Thus, the women’s movement allowed women to express their negative emotions towards motherhood and redefine society’s view of motherhood as burdensome.

 

Works Cited:

“Depression among Women.” Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, Centers for     Disease Control and Prevention, 14 May 2020,     https://www.cdc.gov/reproductivehealth/depression/index.htm.

Kelly, Lydia D. “Untitled.” Women: A Journal for Liberation, vol. 4, no.3, pp. 39.

Lawrence, Mary. “Untitled.” Women: A Journal for Liberation, vol. 4, no.3, pp. 3.

Women: A Journal for Liberation, vol. 4, no.3, Spring 1973.

Sleeping Beauty: a lesbian fairy tale by Vicki Gabriner

The Dedication for Sleeping Beauty: a lesbian fairytale, published in 1971, lettering by ginny

Sleeping Beauty: a lesbian fairy tale by Vicki Gabriner is a lesbian retelling of the story of Sleeping Beauty. The story is dedicated to “all the little girls everywhere and always who want to love and be loved” (Gabriner iii). This lesbian children’s fairytale is revolutionary because it represents lesbians in a children book and provides an alternate story to the original Sleeping Beauty that can be passed down for generations. This retelling of Sleeping Beauty is also a way of symbolically showing how lesbians have been a part of history for as long as Sleeping Beauty and stories like it have been told; they just have never been documented. This book uses the power and renown of the original story to show the power and beauty of lesbian identity. Claiming this power means that lesbian erasure and lack of recording history will not happen again.

The story of Sleeping Beauty: a lesbian fairytale is mostly just a retelling of Sleeping Beauty until the end. The King and Queen give birth to a baby girl, who’s name is Stephen. At the dinner to celebrate her birth, they invite all but one of the witches in The Land. The witch, named Gertrude, who wasn’t invited, comes anyway and curses Stephen to prick her finger and sleep for a hundred years. On her fifteenth birthday, Stephen pricks her finger and falls asleep. This is where the story changes: the person who kisses the princess to wake her up is a girl named Lilith. They fall in love and rule as queens until they decide to release their servants and create a lesbian paradise.

The witch, Gertrude, illustrated by gail in Sleeping Beauty: a lesbian fairytale, published in 1971

The witch, Gertrude, in this story is not evil and mean like she is portrayed in the original. Gertrude is excluded from the party, not because of any evil nature because she “cut her hair quite short,” “walked like a man,” and “was different” (Gabriner 3). The King and Queen didn’t like her “because they sensed [her] freedom and [her] love for other women” (Gabriner 25). Gertude curses Stephen not out of spite, but because Gertrude knew that Stephen needed to sleep for a hundred years in order to meet her truelove, Lilith: “it was in the stars” (Gabriner 25).

Gertrude, Lilith and Stephen embrace after Lilith awakens Stephen, illustrated by gail in Sleeping Beauty: a lesbian fairytale, published in 1971

The guidance Gurtrude gives to Stephen and Lilith is a symbol for the guidance and activism older generations of lesbian have given and continue to give to the younger generation. This guidance helps to create a better society where “all women … live and work together as equals” (Gabriner 29). This story shows gratitude to the previous generations of lesbians for their activism. The intergenerational communication and help is vital to the continuation of the lesbian feminist movement. This communication is facilitated by the ability of archives to preserve access to this guidance and celebrate the work of previous generations.

Works Cited:

Gabriner, Vicki. Sleeping Beauty : a lesbian fairy tale. Sojourner Truth Press, 1971.

She’s Closer Than You Think

Discussions of domestic violence and sexual assault require emotional maturity and an understanding of the weight that such conversations hold. Oftentimes, participants of these conversations feel detached or disconnected from the subject matter; however, the National Sexual Violence Resource Center reports that 81% of women experience sexual assault within their lifetime. In efforts to comprehend the fact that every person knows a victim of sexual assault, an excerpt from a 1979 issue of Essence, a popular magazine specifically aimed toward Black women, can be analyzed. That is, Joyce White writes in volume 10, issue 2, of Essence, “When I asked a social worker friend if she knew of any battered women who would be willing to talk to me about their experiences, without a moment’s hesitation she said, ‘That shouldn’t be any problem. Ask any of the women you know.’ I was shocked after talking to scores of women I realized the phenomenon was as common as she’d implied, and that it affects all of us” (126). She may not be your sister, your best friend, or your partner, but it should not have to take “she could be your…” for you to recognize the need to take action to cease the epidemic of domestic violence and sexual assault.

The prevalence of domestic violence across the nation grew in attention during Second Wave Feminism. In a 1975 issue of Women: A Journal of Liberation, Shelley Messing’s poem “Sister-in-law” epitomizes the strains on familial relationships that domestic violence yields.

“Sister-in-law” poem by Shelley Messing, featured in Women: A Journal of Liberation vol. 6 no. 2.

This image is from Women: A Journal of Liberation vol. 6 no. 2, and is situated next to the poem titled “Sister-in-law” by Shelley Messing.

Since this poem is written by someone who knows a victim of domestic violence and verbal abuse, it clearly exemplifies the notion that victims are closer than they appear. Additionally, the title of the poem implies that the victim is the writer’s sister-in-law, and thus the abuser is the writer’s brother. The most striking lines of this poem are in response to a question of whether or not the writer’s brother physically assaults the writer’s sister-in-law. The lines read, “Silence, as her back is turned / and I cannot ask again. / Words are too awkward, / Faces too revealing” (14-17). These lines demonstrate the complex relationship that exists between someone who is abused and someone who has unintentionally learned of the abuse. The pain, most likely too strong for the sister-in-law to bear, has been unveiled by the writer in an unspoken nature, as the abuse is not explicitly stated. The writer’s expression of her brother’s abuse defies the wishes of her family, which is apparent in the lines that read:

My mother writes,

‘I feel you have no

or not enough concern for him…

after all, he is the sick one.’

My sister warns,

‘You can’t write a poem about that.’ (Messing 22-27)

By writing this poem, the writer amplifies the voice of her sister-in-law as a means to illustrate the importance of sharing her story.

The idea that every person knows a victim of sexual assault or domestic violence has further been confirmed by the Me Too movement, which originated in 2006 and grew in popularity in 2017. The Me Too movement serves as a means for victims of sexual assault to find support within a community that values a discussion of recovery from abuse. The following is a reading of a slam poem that articulates the importance of writing and sharing one’s story of sexual assault:

Blythe Baird’s most significant lines from this poem embody the importance of expressing one’s emotions surrounding abuse. She states:

Sometimes I worry I write too much about assault

I worry this is too heavy a burden to carry

I worry I am putting too much responsibility on you, the listener

But when I talk about my trauma, I am not asking you to carry it or relieve me from it

I am just asking for it to not be too heavy for a conversation.

This experience takes up so much space inside of me

And this stage is the only place I can let this trauma live outside of my body. (Baird 0:28-0:57)

This effectively expresses sentiments felt by women sharing their experiences during the Me Too movement, as a sense of camaraderie continues to develop when one allows trauma to be “live[d] outside of [one’s] body” (Baird 0:54-0:57).

This image depicts a participant at an organized event for the Me Too Movement.

Sources:

Baird, Blythe. “Yet Another Rape Poem.” YouTube, Button Poetry, 6 Nov. 2017, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OVA8FMp-_L4

Essence vol. 10, no. 2, June 1979.

“Four Years Later, Most Believe Women Have Benefited from the #MeToo Movement – AP-NORC.” AP, 19 Nov. 2021, https://apnorc.org/projects/four-years-later-most-believe-women-have-benefited-from-the-metoo-movement/.

Messing, Shelley. “Sister-in-Law.” Women: A Journal of Liberation vol. 6, no. 2, 1 January 1975, p. 19.

White, Joyce. “Women Speak!” Essence vol. 10, no. 2, June 1979, p. 126.

Women: A Journal of Liberation vol. 6, no. 2, 1 January 1975.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The “Emotional Battering” of Children who Experience Abuse

The detrimental impacts of child abuse must be examined within the context of Second Wave Feminism in order to fully comprehend women’s role within the family and how such abuse shaped familial structures. In issue 26 of Country Women from 1977, Janet Newell’s essay “Once A Battered Child, Always A Battered Child” epitomizes the notion that childhood abuse negatively impacts familial structures, and more specifically affects the role of women within the family. Newell specifically discusses her victimhood as a survivor of childhood abuse, as her mother was her abuser. With that being said, she simultaneously validates the abuse she endured while also being cognizant of her mother’s victimhood as well. Newell writes, “My mother was a victim too: a victim of frustration in the role of wife and mother of two children and, as it turned out, at times the sole or main support of the family. She was also a victim of the war my father went off to and came back from traumatized three years later, another victim” (22). This excerpt allows Newell to then discuss the sociological impacts of abuse, as she writes:

The conditions of family life in America are such that the possibility for violence is always there. The hierarchical, patriarchal structure is set up in such a way that the frustration and anger at tension and stress created in the family and at work can be passed down through the pecking order. When the child acts out the pain and confusion, then the tension breaks into a pre-abuse or abuse situation. (23-24)

This excerpt exemplifies the need to dismantle the patriarchy in order to cease the continuation of abuse within families. This is further supported in an Aegis issue from 1978, in which a writer for the periodical states,

I think it’s just like violence against women. We can prevent some individuals from getting abused and we can prevent some individual abusers from abusing. But it’s such a cultural problem and a social problem that it needs much more work than just working with the family to make sure they don’t abuse their kids. I think that it’s in the process of starting but I see us having years and years and years of cultural standards that need to be broken. So I don’t think we’ll ever eliminate abuse against women or kids until we look at how our culture sets it up, and that’s a big project. (“‘Daddy Said Not to Tell:’ Dynamics of Sexual Assault – Part II” 10)

This image is from issue 26 of Country Women, published in 1977. Jerri Finch drew the image in 1974.

As the son of someone who has experienced abuse, I find that my experiences are effectively articulated in Del Martin’s Battered Wives from 1976. The statement reads, “…Staying with my husband means my children must be subjected to the emotional battering caused when they see their mother’s beaten face or hear her screams in the middle of the night” (130). Having called the police in the middle of the night, at the age of nine, in efforts to stop my mother’s screams, my emotional maturity has strengthened as a result of the abuse that occurred within my home. It is difficult to imagine the guilt that my mother felt while I was exposed to domestic violence; however, we must remind ourselves that victimhood should not coincide with guilt, and that my mother’s safety superseded my innocence. The “emotional battering” that I experienced was solely the result of one man’s actions, who encouraged my mother to “[…] suffer in silence, adding to [her] physical injuries an insult to the spirit that makes [her] believe [she is] somehow to blame for what has happened to [her]” (Bell 2).

This image is featured within the November 1978 issue of Aegis, in the article titled “Daddy Said Not To Tell: Dynamics of Child Sexual Assault – Part II.”

As a society, it is evident that in order for child abuse and domestic violence that “emotionally batters” children to terminate, we must spread awareness about resources that are available to women and children. Barbara Meyers, in an issue of Aegis that was published in 1978, expresses sentiments of raising awareness by writing:

Within our culture we are told that whatever happens in the family is OK. If a man beats his wife it’s OK because it’s their problem. It’s a family problem and we’re taught to stay out of family problems. The lack of permission to talk about what goes on in the family contributes to peoples’ isolation and doesn’t allow people to get help for what’s going on in their families. (8)

Meyers uses key words in this excerpt like “permission” and “isolation” in order to demonstrate the fatality of honoring the sanctity of the home at the expense of the safety of women. This issue of valuing the sanctity of home is also apparent in the fact that martial rape did not become nationally illegal until 1993, and women could not open a bank account without a husband until the 1960s. Therefore, the legal context of men’s domination of women certainly depicts the abuse that women endured throughout history. Now, the emotions associated with abuse being expressed in the form of writing during Second Wave Feminism served as a catalyst to the dissection of the family dynamic that had hindered women’s stories of abuse from being shared. That is, writing served as a means to strengthen the voices of women and children who had been silenced for so long.

This image is featured within the November 1978 issue of Aegis, in the article titled “Daddy Said Not To Tell: Dynamics of Child Sexual Assault – Part II.”

Sources:

Aegis, November 1978.

Bell, Mary E. “Safe at Home?” Women: A Journal of Liberation vol. 6, no. 2, 1 January 1975, p. 28.

Country Women issue 26, 1 September 1977.

“Daddy Said Not To Tell: Dynamics of Child Sexual Assault – Part II.” Aegis, November 1978, p. 6-10.

MacLean, Nancy. The American Women’s Movement: A Brief History with Documents. Bedford/St. Martins, 2009.

Newell, Janet. “Once A Battered Child, Always A Battered Child.” Country Women issue 26, 1 September 1977, p. 20-25.

Women: A Journal of Liberation vol. 6, no. 2, 1 January 1975.

Rape: A Violation and Its Impact

Awareness surrounding the epidemic of rape grew dramatically during Second Wave Feminism, as poets and writers began to share their lived experiences, and then found support from a community of women that respected and valued said stories. In “Poem About My Rights,” by June Jordan, the narrator discusses her identity as a woman and how that identity and its relation to rape have shaped how she views herself. Jordan emphasizes this in the lines, “I am the history of rape / I am the history of the rejection of who I am / I am the history of the terrorized incarceration of / myself” (77-80). This poem epitomizes women’s growth in the expression of their emotions about rape, ranging from self-destructive undertones of self-blame in the beginning to a realization that “I am not wrong: Wrong is not my name / My name is my own my own my own” (Jordan 109-110). The self-destructive undertones that pervade the beginning of the poem are apparent in the fact that the narrator initially believes that her identity is what hinders her self-expression and freeing actions. The actuality of the matter is that the despicable actions of men are what warrant feelings within women that they are at fault for what happens to them.

In Women: A Journal of Liberation, Lorie Dechar shares a poem titled, “Whale Song: a poem about rape.”

“Whale song: a poem about rape” by Lorie Dechar, featured in Women: A Journal of Liberation vol. 6 no. 2.

This poem discusses the disturbing impacts of rape by comparing a whale to a woman through an extended metaphor. This is apparent in the lines that follow the act of the rape in the poem, “and then she lies / beached and paralyzed / harvested and valuable produce / some drunken sailor’s dream” (Dechar 42-45). The words “paralyzed” and “valuable produce” simultaneously illustrate the dehumanizing nature of rape and the rapist’s malicious intentions. Additionally, the formation of the lines and the effortlessly integrated imagery within the poem help to encapsulate numerous feelings of survivors. For instance, Dechar appropriately writes of the blames placed on women when they are raped in efforts to demonstrate that women should never be blamed for being assaulted. She writes, “never go out / never smile / never admire / … / never love / and never been born / a woman” (Dechar 73-75, 80-82). This supports the idea that the simple act of being alive is dangerous for women, as they are constantly being taken advantage of. Dechar also perpetuates the notion that the imperiling hands of men are simultaneously beyond belief, while also being feasible to understand due to lived experiences of assault. She writes, “I look to big things / … / gentle things / that somehow persist / despite / the inconceivably brutal assaults of men” (Dechar 86, 90-93). Finally, Dechar summarizes survivors’ sentiments in regards to sharing their stories in the form of writing by stating, “I hide my heart in the crotch of an old maple tree / behind an old barn in a secret clearing and / I’m starting to let friends / come visit” (94-97). By sharing one’s survival in the form of writing, not only is the writer letting people in, but finding a supportive network of people that help to amplify the survivor’s voice.

Sources:

Dechar, Lorie. “Whale Song: a poem about rape.” Women: A Journal of Liberation vol. 6, no. 2, 1 January 1975, p. 32.

Jordan, June. “Poem about My Rights by June Jordan.” Poetry Foundation, Poetry Foundation, 2005, https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/48762/poem-about-my-rights

​​“June Jordan – Poem About My Rights.” YouTube, YouTube, 13 Nov. 2011, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XUSTxhYu7-4

Women: A Journal of Liberation vol. 6, no. 2, 1 January 1975.

 

Sisterhood in Spite of His Violence

The violence that women endured cannot and will not be rationalized for any reason; however, it is worthy to note the sisterhood that women’s writing of abuse yielded. For example, Susan Chamberlain writes an untitled poem that can be found in the second issue of Everywoman, in which she expresses her desire to get to know the women around her. She feels trapped by men’s ability to assert their dominance over women, and how their dominance is constantly being reinforced. This is apparent in the lines that read, “stamp my feet on the rug made by men / try to look into the face of the man at my side / who is my ticket into the nighttime world” (Chamberlain 14-16). Although not specifically mentioning instances of abuse, readers can grasp the internalized struggle that the writer is facing; her existence in this world is characterized by the fact that she is a woman, and she can only hold a sense of security in public when in the presence of a man. At the end of the poem, Chamberlain expresses her desire to develop a sense of sisterhood with the women around her by writing, “oh my sisters where are you / for i know now i am not alone / but you see / we have never before / taken the time / to know each other” (29-34). These lines encourage women to express themselves and find support in one another, in efforts to dismantle the consistently reinforced patriarchal society that they reside in.

Untitled poem by Susan Chamberlain found in Everywoman vol. 1 no. 2.

The encouragement that Chamberlain provides to women in regards to getting to know one another’s stories holds applications to domestic violence. This means that society must be cognizant of its role in maintaining the power dynamic that exists within one’s home, since an unspoken rule that “what happens in one’s home stays in one’s home” exists. Women must absolve themselves from the guilt that they hold in regards to speaking out about abuse, and come to the conclusion that they will never be the reason for men’s domineering actions. That is, it was encouraged during Second Wave Feminism to abolish the notion that family matters are inherently private matters. Instead, by expressing the complexity of victimhood in the form of writing, women were able to unite and realize the extent to which they could combat the epidemic of domestic violence. In Off Our Backs, a popular feminist periodical, Douglas embodies the complexity of women’s victimhood in writing,

When one has been a feminist for a certain amount of time, she sometimes no longer wants to think of women as victims. Being a victim sounds like being passive, unrebellious, pre-feminist, etc. Of course, we must try to become strong, but whatever individual strength we develop will not change our status as an oppressed group. To disassociate ourselves from women who have been victimized, to imagine that they are somehow different from us, is to accept the idea that they have chosen their oppression instead of having it thrust upon them. We are all vulnerable, we can all be victimized; we can only reject that victimization together. […] When they hit one of us, they hit us all. (Douglas et al. 4-5)

During Second Wave Feminism, women were encouraged to break free from the chains that restrained them and instead seek unity with their sisters.

An image of a woman breaking free from chains, featured in Women: A Journal of Liberation vol. 3 no. 2.

Sources:

Chamberlain, Susan. Everywoman vol. 1, no. 2, 29 May 1970, p. 6.

Douglas, Carol, et al. “Battered Wives Make Us Feel Beaten.” Off Our Backs vol. 6, no. 9, December 1976, p. 4-5.

Everywoman vol. 1, no. 2, 29 May 1970.

Off Our Backs vol. 6, no. 9, December 1976.

Women: A Journal of Liberation vol. 3, no. 2, 1 January 1972.

Women: A Journal of Liberation vol. 6, no. 2, 1 January 1975.

“The Ritual, The Gathering, The Making” — Beth Brant

The cover of Sinister Wisdom‘s 1983 edition, A Gathering Spirit. The storm clouds were drawn in pencil by Rosemary Anderson in 1982.

Beth Brant was asked by Adrienne Rich and Michelle Cliff, editors of the lesbian feminist periodical Sinister Wisdom, to assemble its 1983 edition, in which they wanted to include solely North American Native women artists and writers. Brant—Mohawk essayist and poet—accepted, and prioritized elevating the voices of “women yet unheard” in A Gathering of Spirit. She searched for writers within the greater collective of Native women by writing to prison organizations, Native women’s health projects, and other networks to spread the word and collect stories previously silenced (6). Through this project, she established the power of the Native women collective that cultivates change through sharing stories.

Brant precedes the writers featured in this edition in her introduction titled “A Gathering of Spirit.” She calls upon the Women’s Liberation Movement to recognize its inherent flaws in excluding Native voices, a theme we see echoed throughout Native feminist poetry. She articulates her anger towards the “so-called women’s movement that forgets we exist,” that exploits Native women and their culture through “Romantic fantasies of ‘earth-mother’ and the Indian-woman-as victim” (7). One of the themes Brant draws upon that are echoed throughout the poems in this collection is the vital role that Native women play as the original “fire-tenders” and lifekeepers, whose hands “live and work in the present, while pulling on the past. It is impossible for us to not do both” (8). In her introduction, Brant initiates “The Ritual” of honoring Native women of the past, “The Gathering” of Native womens’ spirits, and “The Making” of a future that the collective of Indigenous women storytellers has been tending to all along (8).

An excerpt from Beth Brant’s introduction to A Gathering of Spirit, including two quotes from Linda Hogan and Gloria Anzaldúa.

Sources:

Brant, Beth. “A Gathering of Spirit.” Sinister Wisdom: A Gathering of Spirit, no. 22/23, Iowa City Women’s Press, 1983, pp. 5-9.

“The One Who Skins Cats” — Paula Gunn Allen

Native American women are often portrayed in American media through a narrow lens that negates the complexity of their experiences. Paula Gunn Allen of the Laguna Pueblo speaks to misrepresentation in her poem “The One Who Skins Cats,” included in A Gathering of Spirit (“Paula Gunn Allen,” 2021). The poem is preceded by a quote from Tom Rivington, who describes Sacagawea as a woman deeply in touch with nature, who “worshipped the white flowers that grew at the snowline on the sides of tall mountains” (12).

The excerpt from Tom Rivington included at the beginning of Paula Gunn Allen’s poem “The One Who Skins Cats.”

Gunn Allen’s poem is told from the perspective of Sacagawea herself, juxtaposing the perception of a Native woman through the eyes of a man. In the first section of her poem, Gunn Allen names the many facets of Native womanhood: “I am the one who / holds my son close within my arms, / the one who marries, the one / who is enslaved, the one who is beaten, / the one who weeps, the one who knows / the way, who beckons, who knows / the wilderness” (12). In describing Sacagawea’s role as the “legend” as well as the many other roles of “woman” she inhabited throughout her lifetime, Gunn Allen honors the dimensionality of Sacagawea’s character. She is “Slave Woman, Lost Woman, Grass Woman / mountain pass / and river woman,” and she is also “free” (13). The natural world is eternal, ever-changing, and inextricably linked to the power of Native women. Through demonstrating this power within multiple identities, Gunn Allen rejects stereotypical portrayals of Native American women that fail to acknowledge the entirety of their influence. To subject Sacagawea to the image of her face on a coin and only recognize her for one part of her life is to deny her of her personhood. This simplification of experience perpetuates the suppression of Native identity.

In the second part of her poem, Gunn Allen confronts this tendency to generalize
Indigenous stories more directly: “I have had / a lot of names in my time. None / fit me very well, but none was my / true name anyway, so what’s the difference?” (13). Here, Gunn Allen emphasizes the importance of language and referring to people how they choose, by their true name, as it affirms their being-ness. Gunn Allen calls out white women for simplifying the histories of Native women: “Those white women who decided I alone / guided the white man’s expedition across / the world, what did they know? Indian maid, / they said. Maid. That’s me” (13). She goes on to identify white feminism’s exploitation of Native women by using them to advance their own liberation without creating space for them in the Women’s Liberation Movement:

Sakakawea, by Bruno Louis Zimm 1904 .

I lived a hundred years or more / but not long enough to see the day / when those white women, suffragettes, / made me the most famous squaw / in all creation. / You know why they did that? / Because they was tired of being nothing / themselves. They wanted to show / how nothing was really something of worth. / And that was me (14).

By including the history of white women utilizing Native womens’ experiences for the purposes of their own liberation, Gunn Allen highlights how the Women’s Liberation Movement itself appropriated and oppressed women of color who did not have agency over their own narratives. Failing to include Native women in the feminist movement in a way that gives them control over sharing their experiences and telling their own stories has further oppressed Indigenous women.

Excerpt from the first half of Gunn Allen’s “The One Who Skins Cats.”

The white feminist romanticization of Sacagawea negates her experience as a Native woman. It fails to address the rejection Sacagawea faced from her own people, who called her names and said she had “betrayed the Indians / into the white man’s hand” (15). Native women bear an immense burden as women of color facing an intersection of injustices from both white women feminists who seek to exploit them and the men in their own communities who blame them as traitors. Gunn Allen works against this paradigm by recounting the lesser-known but equally important story of how Sacagawea fled from her abusive husband (17).

Gunn Allen reiterates the diversity of identity of Native women in her final stanza: “the story of Sacagawea, Indian maid, / can be told a lot of different ways. / I can be the guide, the chief. / I can be the traitor, the Snake. / I can be the feathers on the wind” (17). Gunn Allen exemplifies the importance of interrogating mainstream views of Indigenous women, and more than that, she acknowledges the breadth of roles that Native women take on, whether they fit the stereotype or not. By invoking the voice of Sacagawea to uncover the myth and legend behind her own name, Gunn Allen furthers the Indigenous feminist mission of appreciating the full, intersectional experiences of Indigenous women.

 

Sources:

Brant, Beth. Sinister Wisdom: A Gathering of Spirit, no. 22/23, Iowa City Women’s Press, 1983.

Gunn Allen, Paula. “The One Who Skins Cats,” Sinister Wisdom: A Gathering of Spirit, no. 22/23, pp. 12-17.

“Paula Gunn Allen.” Wikipedia, 17 November 2021. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paula_Gunn_Allen.

Zimm, Louis Bruno. Sakakawea. 1904, The University of Montana, Missoula, http://www.lewis-clark.org/article/2492.