Equal Rights Amendment Archives - Owl Medicine: Shamanic Healing

Sign at Strike – Photo: L. Weikel

Solidarity

Every once in a while, Karl and I get a chance to put our beliefs into action and show our solidarity with fellow Americans who seek to make our country or our world better, or seek to be treated fairly and equitably in exchange for their hard work. Today was one of those days.

Because we have a connection to AFSCME (the American Federation of State, County, and Municipal Employees), we chose to spend some time today walking the picket line at the Kelloggs plant in Lancaster County. That’s because Council 13 AFSCME members are showing up to express their solidarity with their brothers and sisters who are members of the BCTGM local 374-G (Bakers, Confectioners, Tobacco Workers, and Grain Millers). BCTGM International is the union that represents over 1400 workers striking against the major cereal manufacturer nationwide to effect equal wages for equal work.

If you take the time to read about the two-tiered wage system Kelloggs implemented some time ago, you’ll have a better understanding of why these workers are striking. Taking the extraordinary measure of standing up to an employer in this manner is never an easy decision. But times and circumstances conspire to create situations that demand redress.

Photo: L. Weikel

Other Times

It seems we’re being given more and more reason to take to the streets. From the dire trajectory of climate change to recognizing the egregious lack of racial justice in our country, we try to show up and be counted, as opposed to sitting in front of the tv and feeling powerless. Not that we don’t do our share of sitting in front of the tv feeling frustrated and outraged.

But I guess watching the injustices pile up and regular people seemingly losing their ability to make a difference is why, every once in a while, we drag our bones outside and show up. Another reason may stem from the fact that we came of age in the ‘70s. I look back on those times and feel, I don’t know…uncomfortable. I remember watching protests on the nightly news back in the ‘60s. Too young to have much of an opinion about anything, I certainly didn’t fully comprehend what was going on. (I knew how my father felt about it, though – based on his reaction to what we watched on the news.)

Too Young To Make a Difference

I vividly remember feeling confused over why young people protesting against the Vietnam War were so reviled and disrespected, as if they were just too stupid or misinformed to realize the lives of their brothers and friends were necessary sacrifices. Necessary? A reasonable price to be paid?

At the same time, I couldn’t for the life of me understand why our country could not – would not – ratify the Equal Rights Amendment. (And seriously – how egregious is it that we still have yet to pass it?) As someone growing up in the ‘70s, I took it for granted that the rights won by women were pretty obviously righteous. Honestly, how could anyone think women weren’t equal to men or at least entitled to be paid the same for the same work?

Ignorance

Oh, how naïve I was.

Speaking of naïve, as a white person living in a mostly rural area, I had no idea what it meant to be ‘guilty of walking while black.’ I never even heard the term until I was in my late 30s, when a colleague described to me the way her black nephew would be stopped by police for just that: walking while black. At first, it sounded like hyperbole. It took no time at all for me to realize it was the horrible truth for all people of color in our country, but especially young black and brown men.

The systemic racism that resulted in the horror of George Floyd’s murder (and Ahmaud Arbery’s and the countless others we’ve witnessed over the past few years but barely remember their names, not to mention the thousands of others we’ve not even heard about) is something of which I was shamefully ignorant. And I say shamefully because these are my fellow Americans. People I truly believed were as equal and free as me. How could I grow up as a reasonably intelligent and well-informed person and not realize just how pervasive racism continues to be in our country?

Outrage

And then there’s the situation with women’s rights over our own bodies. As a girl growing up in the ‘70s, again, I took for granted that I had sovereignty over my own body. I took for granted that it was my business and no one else’s whether I could use birth control. Or choose whether or when I would become a mother.

Yet here we are.

There are so many reasons why I show up to stand in solidarity with others. I may not work at a factory or nursing home. I may never have to worry about my sons being shot as they take a run on a country road because they supposedly look suspicious (because of their race) or are assumed they ‘shouldn’t be there’ or don’t belong. But I can show up and declare my solidarity with them. I can show up to advocate for Mother Earth, and the rights of all women. I can protest the blatant efforts to disenfranchise whole swaths of people. If it matters to me – I must.

Sometimes all we can do is show up. And if we can do more?

Sometimes it feels like our world’s on fire – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-19)

A Sign – Photo: L. Weikel

The Respite

For once in a very long time I have essentially no idea what’s gone on in the outside world today. Not only did I refrain from reading anything on my phone, I also avoided watching any of my usual fare that keeps me up to date on the latest facts and figures of how our world and nation is coping with this unprecedented transformation. The respite was unintended but probably essential.

Yes, I know. There are many people who eschew the media and distrust it and the hyperbole with which much of what’s going on ‘out there’ gets discussed. But I’ve come to find some sources that do not so much inflame as explain. And I find doing my best to understand what’s going on so I can make reasoned and well-informed decisions for myself to be at least somewhat comforting.

I like knowing the truth, even if it’s not easy to hear it. The thought of being fed a bunch of lies just so I will supposedly feel good makes me want to rip my hair out. That’s because I detest lies. Lies rob us of first-hand experience of what is. And what else is there to life but first hand experience of what is?

Lies would have us believe that what we’re experiencing isn’t what’s right before our eyes. That’s maddening. That makes the part of our brain that makes sense of things constantly whir in the background, stuck in a whirling rainbow of a processing loop as it tries to make sense of something incapable of logical resolution.

Alternative Programming

Instead of paying attention to the current state of affairs, instead of feeling helpless as I watch people ignore science and instead choose to believe happy talk that’s calculated to have them act against their own best interests (yet again), Karl and I chose to watch two vastly different programs.

The first show we watched was the first episode of Mrs. America, which can be seen on Hulu. It has a pretty amazing cast – but I’d resisted watching it when I first heard about it because it is about Phyllis Schlafly.

I was tempted to just binge watch right into the second episode, but being reminded of the dumbfounding sexism that’s been part of our society for so long was demoralizing. The events depicted in that first episode were from when I was around 13 years old and the Equal Rights Amendment was in the process of being ratified by the states. I remember feeling that it was a no-brainer. I couldn’t imagine it not being ratified.

And thus it began. The backlash we’ve been living with ever since that time when women got this close to being recognized as equal to men. And therein lies one of the utterly maddening truths of my lifetime.

A Bit Better Feeling

There’s no question we’re hooked on the limited run program, Mrs. America. But we decided we needed to drop back to one of our absolute favorite programs that helps us reclaim faith in humanity, Call the Midwife, on Netflix.

If any of you haven’t yet started watching this treasure, I urge you to do so post haste! There’s never been a better time to give yourself the gift of watching this warm and wonderful program.

First of all, I believe there are eight or nine seasons. So you have a deep reservoir to dive into as this pandemic wears on. Plenty of time to get to know the characters, revel in their triumphs, and lament their frailties, all the while knowing (as you will, once you start watching) that somehow or another, even if things don’t turn out the way you hope for a particular character, something redeeming can be discovered in the ashes.

Call the Midwife lets us hang on to the thread of hope. Hope for humanity and hope for ourselves.

Just tonight, the two episodes we watched were set in 1962. The Cuban missile crisis was in full swing and it was fascinating to see the reaction of the English. I was only three when that occurred, so I have no memory of any of the anxiety that swept the world. But the parallels to how life-changing it would have been had nuclear weapons been unleashed to the devastation the entire world is watching unfold now was eerie.

Transformation

We’re most definitely in the midst of major transformation on many different levels, not only in our many societies across the world, but also in our own selves.

In some ways, I feel like I can’t escape the messages, even when I actively opt to escape for an evening. That tells me that the time for hiding our heads in the sand are done. Over.

The respite I had today demands to be repeated. The respite feels as important to the transformation as the bigger, deeper, more obvious ‘work.’ It must be respected as essential as any activism or awareness.

I wonder what May will bring to us.