When it comes to writing about International Women’s Day (IWD), you could say that I’ve well and truly missed the boat. IWD was two weeks ago and in this era of instant news, this story is well and truly done and dusted. Dead. It’s definitely a case for “Bones”
Yet, I would like to think that perhaps as bloggers we are somehow beyond the restrictions which constrict and limit the so-called mainstream media. That if we want to write about something, we just do it…especially when we are beyond the flow!
So I’m sorry this post is a bit late. I was struck down by some strange stomach bug last week and essentially spent the week in bed. I did manage to write some other posts and clean out the pantry but that was about it.
International Women’s Day is also my son’s birthday and so while I was out there marching for women’s rights, it was also my celebration and otherwise of being a Mum. I have been a mother now for nine years. I had been baking a birthday cake the night before and sending Mister off to school with cupcakes for his class and I was back there to pick the kids up from school afterwards.It was a busy day.
So in some ways for me, IWD was a case of wearing a number of different hats. I was there as “myself”, as a working woman and a mother. I was marching to celebrate being a woman but also to acknowledge that when it comes to women’s rights and equality, we still have work to do. Not just for ourselves but we also need to stand up for those we have dubbed “voiceless women” who are unable to speak for themselves.
Perhaps, you might joke about a woman being voiceless. You wouldn’t be the first. Women are usually great talkers. However, there’s a difference between talking and exchanging social chit chat and being able to express what’s really going on behind closed doors and revealing bruises not just to your physical body but also to your heart and soul. These things, which are so incredibly private, are kept secret behind locked and closed doors. It is a secret but perhaps the signs can be all too clear even if the words aren’t there. I sometimes suspect that as much as we talk about wanting an end to violence against women, as a society, we really don’t really want to know about it. We don’t want to get involved and that’s why so many of these women remain silenced. We are not looking. We are not listening.
I am no better than anybody else when it comes to trying to help these voiceless women. There’s nobody sleeping on my couch and I have a roof full of baby stuff that I really should drop off for somebody, anybody to use. We stuck it all up in the roof in case we had a number three and that’s where it’s stayed. All that’s stuff is now out of circulation and in a sense is now going to waste not that these thoughts have mobilised me yet. Like I said, it all gets a bit hard. Takes too much work.
Out of sight…out of mind.
That is why we have to take to the streets and make these women visible again. We need to stand up and be counted and say no to domestic violence and we also need to end an evil I thought disappeared centuries ago… slavery and human trafficking.
My daughter who has just turned 7 asked me why I went in the women’s march. I had to put a bit of thought into that. Why? Why? Why? I don’t march for any other cause so why this?
I marched because I believe in equality for all people. I believe we all deserve respect and I feel women don’t always get the respect we deserve. In particular, I feel that mothers as a group are not respected in our society. In too many instances, the words “mother” or “Mummy” have derogatory overtones. I particularly don’t like the term “Mummy blogger”. A woman’s parental status shouldn’t enter the equation.
So I marched for that little person inside me who still believed in the vision…the sky somewhere beyond the glass ceiling.
I also marched to celebrate the breakthroughs for women in the past such as gaining the vote, which should never just be taken for granted as well as looking forward to a more equal situation for all women in the future. In other words, continuing the good fight.
This was my second IWD march and it was extra special this year.
You see, I was walking down the main street of Gosford when I spotted Paralympic gold medallist Liesl Tesch and introduced myself. I am on the Status of Women Committee which organises our local march and Liesl was the keynote speaker at the post-march event.
Anyway, Liesl hung her gold medal around my neck and I completed the march with a Paralympic gold medal around my neck. I was stoked. Not just to wear the medal for what it really was but also what it represented to me.
Eureka! After nine years of being a mum, I had finally received my gold medal!
I was a happy woman!
If you would like to see a clip of our International Women’s Day March in Gosford, please click here: http://www.mygosford.tv/community