feminism + human rights.

Because people rule.

Wandering and Wondering. With Pie.

| Betsy

The photo below is of Chester. Chester lives out in a giant pasture in Fearrington, a retirement village not too far away. Hanging out with him the other day and making a new friend was delightful.

 

 

And speaking of retirement, I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the future, especially after talking to my friend, who manages Plus500 Erfahrungen. And how the hell I’m going to pay for it. Tonight I walked home with my housemate after Bingo at a local shop, and we ate what was left of the blueberry pie she won on the last game. Fresh blueberries had splattered purplish pink on my arm, and my lips and tongue were stained blue as we walked home in flip-flops, making smacking sounds both on the pavement with our feet and with our mouths full of pie. There was a sweet sense that the summer was beginning as we soon started to itch from mosquito bites and I kept dancing to Kelis’ “Milkshake” which a new friend played for me between Bingo games. Awesome.

But then back home, I’m faced again with the conflict that keeps rising in my life, where I’m transitioning on the career front from that amorphous-sounding “freelance” towards something more sound and less stressful. I want to work out of choice when I’m 80, not work out of necessity. So I’m wading through job listings, my CV, the stories and advice of others and my own self-doubt with thoughts of my future in front of me. I think that life is meant to be lived and that work is something you should feel passion for, as with passion you challenge yourself and others to move forward and improve.

I would like to work in an environment that’s helping others (especially women) develop their own livelihoods in countries without proper infrastructures. With years of research about women, community, war, identity and indie businesses, it just seems like a natural fit. I love exploring the unique power of creativity and the way it can help as it heals. I love asking questions. I love weaving the intricacies of different cultures together and watching how they create a fabric of humanity. So I’m left in my living room, by the window, looking up at the moon, wondering how to best navigate my future.

It was nice to take time out tonight from wondering about 401ks and retirement plans and finding full-time work that is truly fulfilling and to just walk by the light of the moon and eat pie. It didn’t matter that it was dripping on our toes or on the pavement or staining our fingertips, it just mattered that we were happy to be there. And I wonder about those of us who are wondering and struggling and constantly questioning ourselves as to whether we’re doing the right thing. If we’re on the right path and fighting the right fights and where we need to be. We wonder and wonder and wonder what our future will be, knowing that we are the only ones who can craft it.

Maybe it’s daft, naive or just plain sadistic, but I truly believe that we will find the right path, the right people, the right places. We will realize that our transitions are natural progressions instead of failures. And I hope and trust that when I’m 80, I’ll be going home from Bingo in the light of the moon, laughing and lucky enough to live somewhere without worrying about the electric bill. Blueberry stained teeth and pavement, however, are purely optional.

Graffiti’s Little Idiosyncracies.

| Betsy

I just finished the piece above, which is graffiti of the Palestinian hijacker Leila Khaled spraypainted on the wall between Bethlehem and Jerusalem. Leila Khaled was a member of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP). It was a choice made originally to highlight the fact that what we may view through our own cultural lens may not be the truth. After finding out the image was of Khaled, it twisted the idiosyncratic ways of graffiti even more than I thought possible. Who is graffiti for? Does it ever mislead given cultural histories? Once finished, graffiti is left for people to individually decide on its meaning, as the artist isn’t aware to explain it.

Ironically, this is part of my ongoing International Anti-War Cross-Stitch series. So what is a Palestinian hijacker spraypainted on a wall with “I Am Not A Terrorist” got to do with anti-war? It’s another example of how graffiti blurs the lines between conversations and cultures. Does the stencil speak for Khaled herself? Obviously not, as she has been very open and proud about her actions with the PFLP. Or is it more about the keffiyeh she’s wearing like a hijab? Graffiti doesn’t lead us to explanation, it lets us define according to our cultural backgrounds.

Graffiti, the act of leaving anonymous (although sometimes individually tagged) art in public places, never truly gives us an answer. It is a soft moment of art on a sterile public wall or building. It is a drunken moment of anger or a release of what can’t be said in public or just done for art’s sake. To some it is disturbing. To others it is beautiful. But no matter what you may think about it, it is always the true thoughts of the people, not the governments or wealthy businessmen, it’s a way for people who don’t normally get their voice heard to speak out in a public forum, for their chance to speak out and fight back. It’s the pulse of the city.

I have a collection of political graffiti images and can’t find the original one I used for the piece above, but was happily able to find an earlier photograph of it. This piece I like not because of the actions of Khaled, but for the lines it blurs. To me, as an American, previously unaware that this photo was of anyone in particular it spoke of whispers and side glances and speculations. We don’t know who stenciled this image on a wall in an area of strife, what their original goal was, if they made the stencil in a hurry or passed them out to friends. Most likely it was done under the veil of darkness, a crying out of viewpoints and frustrations and a will to action- not of violence, but of art.

To me this image is about cultural intracacies and defining lines and juxtaposition. It’s remembrance of the invisible and cultural defining line of Muslim as “other.” The juxtaposition of Khaled’s photo next to “I Am Not A Terrorist” doesn’t make me see Khaled. It makes me see the faces of women who wear the chadoor and the hijab and the kiffeyeh that we don’t really actually see. While literally their faces and/or heads are covered, that’s not what I’m speaking of. We just see the clothing. The mark of “other.” Not the woman inside. The woman who is not a terrorist, despite what her clothing might speak of to you.

And on the nightly news, on stories perfectly edited with English translations on top, this defining line of “other” is marked over and over and over again. Whether it’s a veil or a headscarf or a burkha, we may not really notice, just that it’s a cultural marker. Instead of seeing this piece as an act of glorifying a hijacker, I see a piece of frustration and redefinition, a remembrance that despite what we see on the news and in the media, Muslim does not equal terrorist…despite the fact that Khaled herself was a hijacker. I see the hundreds of thousands of women who are not terrorists. But it’s left with other random thoughts and scribbles done late at night in the dark, no explanation given. We are left to think of it what we will. We are left to find and feel the pulse of the city. We are left to navigate between the media on our screens and the media on our streets.

Hooray For Moms. And Julia Ward Howe.

| Betsy

The United States observance of Mother’s Day is May 10th. Remember history of Mother’s Day (I had no idea it started as an anti-war day!), that is absolutely beautiful. This Mother’s Day they are having a peace vigil in DC May 9-10, 1pm-1pm. Read more about it over here.





You can read the entire Mother’s Day Proclamation by Julia Ward Howe over here.


After you’ve read the Proclamation and fallen in love with the awesomeness of Julia Ward Howe, you can learn more about her from the following links:
*Julia Ward Howe dot org
*Julia Ward Howe, in Two Volumes, Houghton Mifflin, 1915.
*Open Collections Project, Harvard University
Be sure to check out the links at the bottom for some amazing work, including…
*Women’s Work in American

So when was the last time you hugged your Mother?

Oh, and local folk, I will be doing an event at McIntyre’s in Fearrington Village (Pittsboro) this Sunday, May 3rd, at 2pm! Do come by and say hi!

*I’ve made 6! 2 to go, I need to hurry as they need to be in DC by the 4th!

True Bravery.

| Betsy

Ok, so I’ve talked about not liking the shouting version of protesting. I find it counterproductive in most cases. Although not in the case of Afghan women taking to the streets to protest a marriage law, a law that would require them to have sex with their husbands at least 1 day in 4, unless they were ill… allowing their husbands to effectively rape them legally if they were non-consenting.

In thinking about why I found this so incredibly brave and awesome, I think it has something to do with the fact that they protested in a society that doesn’t let them do so. And that despite having rocks thrown at them, and the crowd of anti-protesters being several times larger than their number of 300 and being pelted with stones, they kept going. And speaking up and moving forward in the name of having a safe place to sleep in a country that allows few freedoms (although it’s getting better…slowly) to its women is true, raw bravery. (Photo from article)

Protesting and chanting in our long-defined democracies seems somewhat antiquated in comparison, which is why I think that visual creations in protest help us connect with what’s going on. We are so used to hearing shouting that we slap on headphones, so used to angry faces that we ignore them, so deadened by the familiarity of our rights that we take them for granted. We no longer see the signs or hear the shouts, but we are enlivened and challenged by something handmade for the occasion as it was specially crafted for the event. In other words, it allows us to project a non-jaded eye on old familiars when it comes to protest.

Over in Afghanistan today, 300 women spoke up where protesting is the domain of men and made people listen. In a country where speaking out is not a right, then vocal protest is the most radical of them all. If your voice can be freely heard and exclaimed in your society, that’s when I think other measures need to be adopted to be heard effectively.

My favorite part of the report on this protest? Female police officers (themselves an incredibly brave and new sign of moving forward, a job opportunity barely 4 years old) held hands in a protective barrier around the protesters. Despite all the anger and hate and chaos going on around them, these women moved forward in a ring of women and proved to the world that they, too, are ready to stand up. And they stood together, despite the anger surrounding them, vocalizing their discontent and holding hands, they walk forward.

The Heart Of Craftivism.

| Betsy

“Knitting is a symbol of many things, knitting together things that have been broken, and our society has been broken… knitting is a symbol of hoping that we can bring some kind of unity.” (from the Northern Ireland video from Shannon Airport below)

This morning I was happy to receive a link to Yoko Ono’s “Revelations”, the version remixed by Cat Power for Ono’s 2007 album Yes, I’m a Witch. The link came in the daily newsletter email I get from Danielle LaPorte over at White Hot Truth. I love how some days just what you needs pops into your inbox like magic.

Lately I’ve been thinking a lot what craftivism is, as I’m collecting photographs over at Documenting Craftivism, a project that right now is a loose collection to help define the term. I’ve also been watching some lovely videos that also speak to the heart of craftivism. I’ve been looking into the work of some larger organizations, (Aid to Artisans, Peace x Peace, Women for Women International to name but a few) but there are also some smaller groups speaking to craft + activism as well.

Some of these videos made me cry in their honesty and sincerity wishes for peace and hope, may you enjoy them as much as I did. I don’t always agree with all of the words and banners, but I always agree with the sentiments. Creativity. Peace. Hope. Love.


Granny Peace Brigade.
Knitting for Peace, Times Square, NYC, March 19, 2008.




The Mother Bear Project.
Showing how easy it is to post knitted donations, an adorable short first time attempt at stop motion!



Help Child Soldiers.
Lovely clip from a women’s knitting circle working on knitted donations.




Knitting for peace at Shannon airport in Northern Ireland January 6, 2009 on Nollaig na mban (Women’s Christmas). There is some really interesting Irish and knitting history in here!




And one from a different side of craftivism: helping the world heal itself. The work of Rwanda Knits. Part of the proceeds from Knitting for Good! went to this charity, as I really love the work they are doing with refugee women.