feminism ain't about equality, it's about reprieve

amendment 
written by ani difranco

wouldn't it be nice if
we had an amendment
to give civil rights to
women
to once and for all just
really lay it down from
the point of view of
women
i know what you're thinkin'
that's just redundant
chicks got it good now
they can almost be president
but it's worker against worker
time and time again
'cause the rich use certain issues as a tool
and when i say we need the ERA it ain't 'cause i'm a fool
it's 'cause without it, nobody can get away with anything cool

you don't have to go far, like
just over to Canada
to feel a heightened sense of "live-and-let-live"
what is it about Americans, like so many pitbulls
trained to attack and never give
we gotta put down abortion
put it down in the books for good
as central to the civil rights
of women
make diversity legal
make it finally understood
to the civil rights of
women
and if you don't like abortion
don't have an abortion
and teach your children
how they can avoid them
but don't treat all women
like they are your children
compassion has many faces, many names
and if men can kill and be decorated instead of blamed
than a woman called upon to mother can choose to refrain

and contrary to eons
of old-time religion
your body's your only
true dominion
Nature is not here to serve you
or at any cost to preserve you
that's just some preacher man's
old-time opinion
life is sacred
life is also profane
a women's life it must be hers to name
let an amendment
put this brutal game to rest
trust that women will still take you to their breast
trust that women will always do their best
trust that differences make us stronger, not less

in this amendment shall be
"family structures shall be free"
we'll have the right to civil union
it takes unions of all kinds
unions of hearts and minds
to give society communion
let's do more than tolerate
let gay and straight resonate
and emanate all that is human
with equal rights and
equal protection
intolerance finally
ruined
and then there's the kids' rights
they'll naturally be on board
the funnel through which
women's lives are poured
our family is so big
we're all so very small
let a web of relationship
be laid over it all
over the strata of power piled up to the sky
over the illusion of autonomy on which it relies
over any absolute that nature does not supply

and the birthing woman shall regain her place
in a circle of women in a sacred space
turn off the machines
put away the knives
this amendment shall deliver from bondage
midwives

a muck amok

i read an article today about an article about an 11-year-old girl in Texas being gang-raped by between 18 and 28 men.  (if you can call them men.  they sound more like animals to me.)

last night, i told my story to a group of loving, supportive women.  i talked about being kept separate from my Puerto Rican heritage for most of my life, and have been lit afire with the new task of uncovering my ancestry.

my best friend is working on her graduate research project, and asked me to fill out a questionnaire about many aspects of my transition from high school to college.  more than once i teared up, thinking about the horrible things i've experienced.

in short, the past is being dredged, and the muck is rising.  it's good.  i need this to happen...in our society, it it preferred that we function and live in the future as opposed to honoring our past and feeling our present.  all of those horrible things are a gift that i must unwrap.  now that i am medically and more emotionally stable (knock on wood!), it is time to go deep. i'm terrified, and exhilarated.  excuse me while i fight the urge to vomit, take swigs of rum right out of the bottle, or go on a 4-mile run with a hamstring injury.

numb is such a pleasant place to take a vacation...and then, when i get back, the muck i left behind has risen from elbow level to eyeball level.

so, here i go.  i know MY story.  every time i tell it, it gets a little clearer.  little details surface, things i had forgotten because my brain was so fuzzy from low glucose levels.  and they matter.  the images i can recall from when i was 6--my mother getting angry at me for asking what her tampons were used for--they matter.  why did i reject one of my first Christmas gifts--a baby doll?  why did i express a desire to have been born a boy in elementary school?  they're pieces from my puzzle...and not just my puzzle, but the puzzle with pieces belonging to my mother, my father, their parents and their parents' parents.

maybe if everyone went back as far, striving for a stark naked understanding, we, as a human family, might find it less desirable to rob, rape and kill each other.

my dad's brother is diagnosed schizophrenic.  in the throes of mania once, he threatened my grandmother--his mom--with a gun, saying he was going to kill her.  why?  where did those delusions come from, and how did the energy from that incident reverberate through the Tormos clan, influencing my dad and his sister, his other brother, their children?  why did i date--and later file a restraining order--against a schizophrenic/manic depressive named Scott Jaffe?

my mom has (had?) a cousin who never was institutionalized (to my knowledge), but never ventured out of the house after having some kind of "nervous breakdown."  what caused this?  how did her family--my relatives--react?  how did this influence my mother's reaction to my somber, quietness as a young girl...and later my depression, my suicide attempts, my institutionalization...which influenced my recovery...which influences how I perceive my own worth?

i think these next two year are going to unearth some terrible and wonderful things.  i'm ready to understand--truly--where i came from, who i am, and where i'm going.