Ain’t I a Woman?

Much has been written about The Woman’s March. In fact, a co-worker shared that he was disappointed that I was not in the midst of it all. This blog entry is an attempt to explain why I wasn’t there.

My first protest was at the Republican Convention in Dallas in 1984. My second was in Crawford, Texas with other clergy and the wife of a fallen American serviceman. We merely walked to the Crawford ranch, as far as they allowed us. Then the widow placed a single red rose between the Secret Service and our little rag tag band. I believe that was in 2006.

I really do thank God for those, every one, out there in cities across the globe. There is no way to give enough thanks. It is the women from throughout history that humble me so. We’ve come a long, long way (baby, remember that Virginia Slims cigarette ad? That meant something to me at the time.)

There will be an automobile maker’s  (Audi) ad at this week’s Super Bowl, wherein a father speaks about how he fears when he will have to explain to his daughter, on many different levels, how she will not make as much money as a man, no matter how skilled, educated or privileged she may be. This hits me in such a depth that it also gives me pause about the state of our country in 2017.

I am a survivor of sexual assault and sexual abuse. I have had more than one employer speak to me or attempt to intimidate, or touch me, in inappropriate manner. I have been paid less than qualified (or unqualified) men in more places of employment than I will ever know. But I do know that this inequality still resonates in the Christian Church more than any other place I have been employed.

Rape and other physical means of unwanted sexual advances can be healed to a certain level. The subsequent spiritual and emotional torment spirit is overlooked.  If I had all the money I’ve paid experts to help me work through it all, all the “less than” wages, that resulted in all the hours with a therapist, all the medications for anxiety and depression, all the missed opportunities, I would be very wealthy. When – if ever – a perpetrator asks for forgiveness, well, for me, it was almost laughable, for it was “too little, too late”.

You see, when a perpetrator asks for forgiveness, he (in my experience) believes it is MERELY the physical act that was, maybe, inappropriate. What “he” does not realize, and may be incapable of comprehending, is the direction my life took as a result. In fact, I don’t really know. I can’t know. And yes, of course, I have all manner of issues with trust, touch, intimacy, fear and barrels of anxiety, as a direct result. I am a changed person because of it. My perpetrator brushes off his guilt and walks away.

So Women March. We must. We can. This is America. We fought to vote, we fought to flee abusive spouses, we fought to have charges brought against these (mostly) men. Yet, even in 2016, a rapist who happened to be a good athlete, was sentenced to serve only a few weeks. According to some sick offshoots of Islam, some men require women to wear a burka so as to not arouse men. Women have been blamed for what they wore, what was said, where they were at the time in some perverted way to justify violence against women. Dammit all, Eve!

So we march. The Supreme Court has finally accepted legal marriage between people of the same sex. Many places no longer discriminate against gays and lesbians. To commit violence against them is a “hate crime”. To violate a woman is legally not a hate crime, nor an act of terrorism. Think about that for a minute.

While I do not – in any way – mean these issues are not important and timely, our country is yet to pass the Equal Rights Amendment. The issue isn’t raised very often these days. There has been more press in 2016 about the rights of transgender persons than about women.

I’m still a feminist. And as bell hooks wrote, “Ain’t I A Woman?”. Certainly the courts (and the current President) have no business in my body. If I am pregnant, men who might not have ever taken responsibility for contraception in every single sexual encounter they have ever had, insist they somehow have the right to tell us what we should do or not do about our pregnancies.  Women do not become pregnant in a vacuum.

Why is it that if I am the owner of ovaries or breasts or estrogen, I deserve less pay for equal work? How have we reached so many other gender related rights but are still yet to pass the ERA?

I can’t say we are “past” that issue. It’s just a given? With a woman as the first predominant political party candidate for the presidency, how have we stopped speaking about it? Working toward it? Would Hillary have made less as the President than Trump? Technically, no, because that salary is a matter of public record. In the rest of the world, we are all but sworn not to discuss our salaries in our own companies with our own peers.

This statement has so many puns to it, I can’t avoid saying it: have we thrown the baby out with the bath water?