Poetry Saves

P1020443 — “Pause there while the sea lights a candle” Josephine Ensign/2018

“…when people say that poetry is a luxury, or an option, or for the educated middle classes, or that it shouldn’t be read in school because it is irrelevant, or any of the strange and stupid things that are said about poetry and its place in our lives, I suspect that the people doing the saying have had things pretty easy. A tough life needs a tough language—and that is what poetry is. That is what literature offers—a language powerful enough to say how it is. It isn’t a hiding place. It is a finding place.” p.40

This is one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite authors, Jeanette Winterson, from her memoir (with one of the best titles ever) Why Be Happy When You Could Be Normal? (New York: Grove Press, 2011). The book’s title comes from an admonishment her abusive, Fundamentalist Christian adoptive mother frequently gave her growing up. Jeanette was frequently locked in a coal cellar and then locked out of her house by her mother (for being “sinful and gay”) before she ran away from home permanently at age 16. In short, she had a tough life as a child. Poetry and literature saved her.

Towards the end of her memoir, Winterson writes eloquently of the complex relationship between madness and creativity. She admits that she often hears voices and realizes “…that drops me in the crazy category” but doesn’t much care. “If you believe, as I do, that the mind wants to heal itself, and that the psych seeks coherence not disintegration, then it isn’t hard to conclude that the mind will manifest whatever is necessary to work on the job.” Then she writes of the part of herself that acted out from her childhood trauma—the acting out in rage, self-harm (including suicidal ideation), social isolation, and “…sexual recklessness—not liberation.” She questions whether this madness could be the creative spirit. But she answers emphatically: “No. Creativity is on the side of health—it isn’t the thing that drives us mad; it is the capacity in us that tries to save us from madness.” pp. 170- 171.

April is National Poetry Month. Also, it is National Child Abuse Prevention Month as well as Sexual Assault Awareness Month—with this year’s theme (appropriately enough with the #MeToo movement) of Embrace Your Voice.

Hell Hath No Fury

Hell hath no fury like a host of women “getting woke” and speaking truth to misogynistic power—including that of our current U.S. President who, of course, is on record scorning and belittling women and treating them as sexual objects and then attempting to place gag orders on them.

Hell hath no fury like a host of women (and enlightened men) “getting woke” to the true meaning of being a feminist. Being a feminist goes beyond the wearing of pink pussy hats and marching (although I have done both of those things and they are an important start). Being a feminist goes beyond supporting the #MeToo movement and the brave women who are feeling empowered to speak up about sexual violence.

I am heartened by the increasing number of ethical and solid investigative news reports which bring to light and lead to due justice, not only the mind-bogglingly large cases such as the serial pedophile passing as sports physician Larry Nassar, but also the smaller yet life-altering stories of the many women (or women like them) who live next door—or who may be your daughter, sister, aunt, grandmother, or mother—or yourself. One recent, and local (to me) example of such a news story appeared in the Seattle Times this past week: “‘Shouting it from the rooftops’: Women confront abuse—even decades later” by Susan Kelleher (March 23, 2018). While this news report focuses on women’s stories of sexual harassment and abuse in the workplace, and therefore excludes such abuse in women’s homes and personal lives (where the vast majority of gender-based violence occurs), it is an illuminating and compassionate series of stories. As a woman and a nurse, I especially resonate with the story of retired nurse, Virginia Dawson. Dawson recounts the sexual harassment she endured early in her career at the pawing hands of a hospital physician. He even attempted to kidnap and sexually assault her in the morgue elevator. Female nurses continue to be targets of sexual harassment and abuse in the workplace by patients, family members, and co-workers.

There are, and will continue to be, nasty backlash and negative repercussions for women who speak their truth. I applaud the many good people across our country who are donating their legal, mental health counseling, and other support services to the many thousands of women who do not have the resources of the high-profile likes of Stormy Daniels (Stephanie Clifford in real life).

Hell hath no fury like a host of women “getting woke,” speaking up, joining and supporting the #MeToo movement, learning the true meaning of being a feminist, registering and voting their consciences in the next elections—or who even run for political offices themselves. #MeToo becomes #PowerToThePolls. Don’t just get angry. Do something constructive with the power of that anger: Vote. And help other people around you to vote for candidates who have the guts to stand up for safer gun regulations, reproductive rights for women, effective anti-violence programs, healthcare programs that work—and who have proven track records of deep respect for all living beings, including women.

Speaking Truth to Power: Consequences

P1010456 — Detail from “Chaos” 2016, mixed media/Josephine Ensign

Speaking truth to power always has consequences for the speaker. It is dangerous. That is part of the definition of parrhesia, the ancient Greek word and concept of free or bold speech. There is an ancient Greek word for someone who speaks truth to power: parrhesiastes. To me, Rachael Denhollander is an excellent current example of a parrnesiastes.

As the French philosopher and historian Michel Foucault stated in his 1983 speech on the subject, “…parrhesia is a verbal activity in which a speaker expresses his personal relationship to truth, and risks his life because he recognizes truth-telling as a duty to improve or help other people (as well as himself). In parrhesia, the speaker uses his freedom and chooses frankness instead of persuasion, truth instead of falsehood or silence, the risk of death instead of life and security, criticism instead of flattery, and moral duty instead of self-interest and moral apathy.” (From Michel Foucault’s speech, “The Meaning and the Evolution of the Word Parrhesia.“)

Substitute ‘she, her, hers (and herself)’ for the above—and recognize that by death Foucault meant not only literal death but also a large personal loss such as one’s personal or professional reputation—and we have an excellent description of the courage of Denhollander (and the other girls and women willing to testify) in helping bring to light and to justice the despicable actions of the serial pedophile and sports physician, Larry Nassar.

As Denhollander writes in her recent (January 26, 2018) NYT op-ed “The Price I Paid for Taking On Larry Nassar”, as a result of her being the first to go public with her accusations of sexual abuse at the hands of Nassar, she lost her church, her closest friends, and her privacy. Also, since she happens to be a lawyer, she was accused of being an ambulance chaser and an opportunist. Despite all of that, she used her freedom (and her privilege), chose frankness and truth and moral duty to speak the truth to oh so many powers. Because, as she points out, it was not only Nassar who was at fault here, but also all of the institutions (most notably Michigan State University), as well as the many coaches, trainers, and psychologists that colluded to allow him to perpetuate his abuse of girls as young as six.

Denhollander concludes with this call to action for each and every one of us:

“Predators rely on community protection to silence victims and keep them in power. Far too often, our commitment to our political party, our religious group, our sport, our college or a prominent member of our community causes us to choose to disbelieve or to turn away from the victim. Far too often, it feels easier and safer to see only what we want to see. Fear of jeopardizing some overarching political, religious, financial or other ideology — or even just losing friends or status — leads to willful ignorance of what is right in front of our own eyes, in the shape and form of innocent and vulnerable children.”

My hope is that we all choose to be part of a community that works to prevent this type of abuse to happen and that fully supports those who have the courage to speak truth to power. And, we should remember the consequences of not speaking up, of staying silent.

Me Too and Misogyny

Kudos to rad woman Tarana Burke who started the #MeToo movement that is helping bring to light (and to the town square) the rampant sexual violence especially against women and girls in our country (although boys and LQBT folks are also highly affected). I am all for thorough investigation/corroboration of claims of sexual violence—which is what has happened in the vast majority of recent cases. Being an ‘out’ woman with a history of sexual abuse/assault, it is heartening to find the cultural tide beginning to shift on this topic. More women and other marginalized people are feeling empowered to speak up about their experiences and are (mostly) being supported in speaking their truths. Of course, there will always be the narrow-minded, misogynistic folks (mostly men) who will be quick to dismiss these claims as “yet another case of women lying” or “recovered memories” or any of the other lame excuses they can come up with. As Ms. Burke reminds us, this movement is about amplifying (and supporting) the voices of victims of sexual violence. Misogyny is very much alive and un-well in our country.