Stop violence against women!
Yesterday, among the many topics of discussion that were brought home from work there was one that jumped out at me. It did its little war-dance and cried angrily "why aren't you doing more?!!!"
Well, that is a very good question, and maybe I can do more, and maybe I will do more, but I still just feel like a little girl, unable to change the world in any substantive way.
She was found dead in the desert. It would seem that the polleros did it, because she wasn't poisoned by minuteman water, but raped and violently murdered. They even had the gall to call her family and say that she had arrived safely, and that they were collecting the rest of their fee. Her sister works at the office next door to M.'s newspaper. My heart breaks a million times over, and yet it still beats, every day, until I die.
Just the other day a neighbor was commenting, outraged by the fact that in Spain in the last week six women had been murdered by their husbands. She was surprised, and rightly appalled, but (and I don't have my statistics in front of me) in the US, and in the entire world something like 75% of women that are murdered are done so by a spouse/ex, a lover/ex or a family member. No, it is not an isolated incident, and it doesn't demonstrate some kind of pathological downward spiral for Spaniards alone, but rather demonstrates, once again, the status of women in the world today (as ever).
It is enough to make one feel thoroughly insignificant, unable to make a dent in the cosmic order of THINGS. One thing I did learn, however, (if nothing else from my years at a women's institution of higher learning) is that one voice, one solitary voice, can often be more powerful than a thousand pounding fists or cracking guns. The Madres de la Plaza de Mayo have always inspired me, and so have those artists who, unafraid of the power of their own voices, speak out against the wall of violence.
So, in my sleeplessness I was reminded of, and will share with you, some examples of these words sung in a weary voice, with no instrumentation. These renditions represent some of my formative experiences as a girl in this world.
Me and a Gun - Tori Amos
Behind the Wall - Tracy Chapman
And this last song is one that I wrote ten years ago, more or less, and today I have written the story to accompany.
Well, that is a very good question, and maybe I can do more, and maybe I will do more, but I still just feel like a little girl, unable to change the world in any substantive way.
She was found dead in the desert. It would seem that the polleros did it, because she wasn't poisoned by minuteman water, but raped and violently murdered. They even had the gall to call her family and say that she had arrived safely, and that they were collecting the rest of their fee. Her sister works at the office next door to M.'s newspaper. My heart breaks a million times over, and yet it still beats, every day, until I die.
Just the other day a neighbor was commenting, outraged by the fact that in Spain in the last week six women had been murdered by their husbands. She was surprised, and rightly appalled, but (and I don't have my statistics in front of me) in the US, and in the entire world something like 75% of women that are murdered are done so by a spouse/ex, a lover/ex or a family member. No, it is not an isolated incident, and it doesn't demonstrate some kind of pathological downward spiral for Spaniards alone, but rather demonstrates, once again, the status of women in the world today (as ever).
It is enough to make one feel thoroughly insignificant, unable to make a dent in the cosmic order of THINGS. One thing I did learn, however, (if nothing else from my years at a women's institution of higher learning) is that one voice, one solitary voice, can often be more powerful than a thousand pounding fists or cracking guns. The Madres de la Plaza de Mayo have always inspired me, and so have those artists who, unafraid of the power of their own voices, speak out against the wall of violence.
So, in my sleeplessness I was reminded of, and will share with you, some examples of these words sung in a weary voice, with no instrumentation. These renditions represent some of my formative experiences as a girl in this world.
Me and a Gun - Tori Amos
Behind the Wall - Tracy Chapman
And this last song is one that I wrote ten years ago, more or less, and today I have written the story to accompany.
posted by ilana at 10:19 a.m.
4 Comments:
Pues vieras que yo soy de las que cree en parar la violencia a secas, sin distinción de género. A veces- y no lo digo por tu post- los movimientos feministas se centran en las mujeres y se olvidan de las víctimas que en mi concepto, son las más vulnerables: los niños. De alguna forma, una mujer puede defenderse mejor, porque rara vez la matan de una sola vez, usualmente primero fue un golpe, otro día otro y así.Decía mi abuela que la primera vez que te levanta un hombre la mano, puede pasar. La segunda, ya es gusto, queriendo decir que una mujer sí tiene el poder de evitar la violencia en su contra. Es cuestión de querer y creer que sí lo puedo parar.
Palabras sabias... la violencia en general es un gran problema humano, sin embargo, creo que señalas un punto importante con los de los niños... sí (se supone) que la mujer de alguna manera se puede defender (sin embargo cuando camino de noche sola, no me dan miedo las mujeres) pero muchas veces no es posible separar el bienestar de los niños del de su mamá.
Y sí, si de por sí para una mujer a la que se le ha enseñado que tiene elección, es difícil acceder ese poder, pienso en las miles de mujeres que simplemente aceptan su destino sin siquiera cuestionarlo.
Ahora, vos que sí me leíste lo otro, puedes ver que sí lo que más me preocupa (tal vez) son los niños (o en ese caso las niñas) pero sí... es un tema que me tiene... no sé... tal vez mejor tener esta conversación privadamente.
Agreed! Agrego nada más que en efecto una no le tiene miedo en la noche a otra mujer. Pero en el día a día, por lo menos en las hispanas ves una falta absoluta de solidaridad entre mujeres, más bien hay una competencia tan serpentosa que el peor enemigo de una mujer, a veces es otra mujer.
So true. I am always amazed by the lack of female solidarity especially when we should be rooting for one another to succeed! Y no creo que sea una cuestión de hispanas, sino de todas (o muchas de) las XX.
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