“Any society based on domination supports and condones violence.” ~ bell hooks.
I remember wearing my first pair of pants. Long pants. Warm legs on a cold winter’s day in England, probably when I was about six or seven years old. Back then, in the early 60s, shorts in the summer (not for ‘going out’ though) were acceptable. But long pants for girls were uncommon. In fact, I remember being greeted by an older man (and I can remember his name to this day – Mr. Gooden) with laughter. From that day on he called me ‘Mrs. Jones’ little boy!’ I don’t believe I owned a pair of jeans until I was in my teens! And yet today whether at work or play, jeans, pants, are my preferred apparel.
When I trained as a nurse in the UK in the 70s, the student nurse’s uniform was a simple dress, with pockets of course. I was fortunate to have missed the era of huge white aprons (though my older sister said they were useful for writing quick notes and reminders on the underside, in a pinch). Caps, however, were still in vogue. The required length of the dress taught me my first anatomical term. The hem was to reach the ‘popliteal space’, that space behind the knee. And your instructors would be quick to send you away if yours crept any higher. Since this was still the age of the mini-skirt, that requirement made us feel quite fuddy-duddy! But as a practicality, since nursing involves a lot of moving, bending and lifting, those longer hemlines helped to keep your modesty intact!
It was with great relief when, upon migrating to the US, I was given an option: white uniform dress or white pants suit for bedside nursing. And no cap! It was a pleasure to be able to go to work in pants suits, especially when made of material that required little or no ironing! In the current age of soft, buttery, colorful scrubs, it seems like ancient history to think of nurses in all-white, with a navy blue sweater the only touch of color. And the sweater was only to be worn if cold, and even then it was to be removed before you went to a patient’s side. Wearing anything with long sleeves when you approached a patient would make them think you didn’t want to take care of them. We’ve come a long way, baby!
These minor fashion wars seem irrelevant in comparison to some battles that women have had to wage. I recently read about the ‘Matilda effect’. In the 1990s, a female historian (Margaret Rossiter) used this term to describe the way that women’s contributions to science over the years have been written out of history. She named the term after Matilda Gage, a ‘suffragist and abolitionist’ who, in 1893 wrote an essay entitled ‘Woman as an Inventor’. It was thought at the time that women possessed no abilities of ‘…inventiveness or mechanical genius’.
Thanks to whatever algorithm programs my social media feed, I seem to often see posts on amazing women over the centuries. Because of the ubiquity of AI-created content, I often check on these stories through other search engines, mistrusting feel-good stories as being the work of some artificial genius. But there are so many stories that are not commonly known. And some of them are not from the distant past either. I recently read about an African American female nuclear chemist from this century, who was part of the team that did the groundwork to uncovering the 117th element of the periodic table. Her story is remarkable. For eighteen years she was the only black woman in her field. Despite Clarice Phelps’ contribution to scientific advancement, when the team celebrated the work with a gala, she was not invited to the event. When a plaque was made commemorating the team, her name was omitted (inadvertently, so it was claimed). This was in 2012! The Matilda effect was still in full force.
Going further back in time, another article covered the amazing midwife (Angelique du Coudray) of the 18th century, who was commissioned by the French King to train other women in the art (and science) of midwifery. This was noteworthy in that, at that time, physicians (i.e. men) were trying to stop midwives (i.e. women) from being trained in midwifery. Not only did she teach them, she created a life-sized mannequin out of fabric, leather and stuffing so that births and deliveries could be simulated. She called her model ‘La Machine’, and over 40 years directly trained over 4,000 midwives, resulting in successfully lowering the mortality rate of childbirth. Incidentally, I was pleased to learn that the term for midwife in French was ‘Sage Femme’ which translates literally to ‘Wise Woman’.
When an administration demands that ‘diversity, equity and inclusion’ policies be removed from government programs, educational establishments and more, we risk losing even more of the stories that are not commonly known. When we don’t acknowledge the unfairness and injustices that continue to limit and restrict the possibilities for many members of this society, we reinforce their marginalization and oppression. It may have been George Santayana who first said that those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it.
These days there are so many ‘shocking’ things happening, it is hard to know where to focus. Whether it is cruelty at sea or on the streets of US cities; leaders who are totally out of touch with the struggles of every day Americans (of all colors); detention camps that are being cited by Amnesty International for violation of human rights (including allegations of torture and ‘disappearances’); national parks that are being opened up for ’resource extraction’; politicians and journalists receiving death threats and worse for being ‘enemies of the people’; where will this end?
It is encouraging (and please note that this word includes the word ‘courage’) to see the women that are demonstrating strength in asking tough questions of the administration, even as they are being insulted and demeaned. Perhaps these are the women our daughters and granddaughters will be reading about in the future.
Those of us who are observing have a duty to stay informed and engaged; to find the Matildas, to spread the stories, to bear witness to these challenging times. We have to teach our grandchildren to research and verify, to find the truth, not to fall for slickly worded, AI-generated content. And most of all, to be able to see the difference between right and wrong, when our leaders seem to have lost their moral compass.
On this Friday morning, I hope you wear whatever clothes make you happy; I hope you feel free to speak your mind regardless of who is listening; and I hope you can see a future where your grandchildren will have whatever opportunities they wish to be fulfilled, contributing, compassionate members of this society.
Have a wonderful weekend, Family!
One Love!
Namaste.
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