OnLine With Zoe

This Frail Power, the Vote.

I never wanted the vote to be this powerful. Change happens in the soul, expressed through art, absorbed into culture. Law enforcement and legislature have no understanding that they are last to be moved.

I blame the pandemic for the escalating power of the vote in 2020. Without the pandemic people would not be so physically at risk. The pandemic attacked the right to assemble. The pandemic attacked the middle class and working poor. Protest would have been deeply, widely, strident, if not for the pandemic.

People of Color have put so much on the line in massively disrespecting the pandemic to rip the the opera gloves off of white america and teach us to "say their name." Bravery unparalleled. Massive human debts that can never be repaid because the heartless bankers don't believe they owe.

Women raped, discarded, beaten, diminished and handed a paper mask to care for the infected dying. Mothers forced to teach as a form of protecting their family. Technology imposing another layer of caste.

Now, the electeds must tell us the truth. No more hollow promises. It is all on the voters. Do not look to government for directions, health information, leadership, temporary assistance, stimulus, protection or basic humanity.

Beyond anything Suffragists could have imagined we are left with this tiny, frail, hash mark and finger ink. We are voting for democracy, for air, for water, for life herself. It is a terrible burden, probably dangerous, but it is ours.

I Vote for my Party

I am not voting for Joe Biden. I am voting for my party. I have always voted for my party. I rarely care for the presidential nominee, nor do I vote for them in the primary. I vote for my party. I hold my party responsible for advancing someone to that position. I see no point to debate publicly about the person but, rather, the party.

 

I am a Democrat. I have always been a Democrat. Growing up in a passionate Goldwater house, being 16 in 1964, supporting labor, anti-war, pacifist; I chose my party. I live in a two-party system. I am realistic about my vote and a dreamer about how things should be. No one has ever come close to that, though Stacey Abrams is closest so far.

 

The Republican party (party of Miss Paul), has been purchased, possibly blackmailed because of their lurid behavior or just unbridled greed. They lost their direction by not nominating a Republican. Their misogyny blinded them. They racism fueled them. They are now being led by a fascist. I have no idea how they or if they will get their party back but, in fact, I do not care. GOP is not my tribe, my club, my affair, my student, my teacher, or the holder of my dreams.

 

Now their opposing party, my party, is in a serious battle for saving the constitution, the party, the people; We the People. I am not happy with the nominee but I do not vote for a personality, a person, a biography; I vote for my party. I care vehemently about my party holding the Executive and Legislative branches.

 

My preference is to vote for women. Women have proven, that when women hold a preponderance of seats in any organization, the patriarchal agenda begins to lose its grip. Even GOP women change as they are at greater liberty when men do not hold the awards/rewards, the paycheck, the possibility of advancement.

 

Voting for women offers a much great chance of not voting for a sexual predator, be they calculated or just plain asleep. I am not going to hold a debate on Biden’s pro-women legislation vs. his total lack of boundaries. I do expect the leaders of my party, the Democratic party to get him in check, hold him in check and face their bad choice squarely.

 

Of course, men, white men, think that only a white man can beat a white man. However, they seem to have, 1) stepped away from naming the incumbent evil and insane 2) gotten fatigued managing backlash stemming from a Black man going in the front door of 1600 Pennsylvania Ave.

 

I am fatigued with my party talking about race and gender and then nominating a white man. I am not voting for Joe Biden. I am voting for my party. It is the party of the people. And, once again, voting since 1972, the nominee is not my choice. I will vote BLUE.

A Great Emptiness

#TEAWITHZOE

This is a Great Emptiness. We are unable to give and receive all of our comforting, our camaraderie, our family, our rituals. our GATHERING that marks one's life.
It is a new suffering, an old suffering, a terrible suffering. I keep wondering what is both the source and the relief of this suffering. I remember reading that when Margaret Mean arrived at a village, she wold ask if there was a birth or a death happening at that moment. She would go there, take her daughter there, as that is the pillar of a life.
If we learn nothing else, let us always remember The Great Emptiness of 2020 and, when this is over, Fill our lives with celebrating one another. Lets have a party and just hold hands.

Mother Earth has Put Us on Notice

#TEAWITHZOE

There is some mysterious movement afoot. I have no idea what it is. Fact is we are killing the planet, women, children, families, air, water, land. Mother Earth has put us on notice. The opponent is genius as it forbids us to gather; we have lost the right and power to assemble. The opponent cares nothing about race, class, gender, education, etc., but the treatment of Americans in the hands of this crisis, demonstrates all of these divides.

Women are at the front lines of the pandemic. Women are the majority of educators, 80% of healthcare providers, the hands-on workers in the "essential" businesses and primary parent, all the while being discriminated against in the "bailouts"  Women are in danger both from double exhaustion and sequestered in a boiling pot of abuse with no escape.

There has never been a more obvious time to see the need for equal wages, equal benefits, equal pensions. Forgiveness of student loans does not remedy the lifetime of unequal wages paid for equal degrees paired with equal debt.

Climate conditions have been the Mother's ultimate warning signal; hard to breathe, poisoned water, decimated land. Possibly this is a global call for the patriarchy to clear out and die; a short time for practitioners of the patriarchy to end their rule. The ultimate "#timesup." Eh, a girl can dream.

But Nothing will change my mind. #womenwillsavetheworld - if it can be saved. Women have been trying for a very long time. Actually, we will never stop. #teawithzoe
photo credit Jose Cordon

ERA, the Possibility of Victory

The MSNBC ERA program did a terrible disservice. Aside from only mentioning one of the two strategies, the dozen omissions and ridiculous misappropriations of influence on both sides, it misidentified the opponent.

This is the MOST fundamental problem with the amendment itself. Alice Paul saw it the very day it was voted on in the subcommittee on constitutional amendments. (which the show said was OBSCURE!!).

If you study anything from chess to martial arts, the number one requirement is to know your opponent;

If you know the enemy and know yourself, you need not fear the result of a hundred battles. If you know yourself but not the enemy, for every victory gained you will also suffer a defeat. If you know neither the enemy nor yourself, you will succumb in every battle.                             Sun Tzu, The Art of War

It is not to scare you.  It is not to immobilize you.  It is to empower you to build an effective strategy.  Not knowing who the actual opponent is, entirely disarms you.  Every successful campaign manager, leader, director knows this.  From Schlafly to trump. From Pope Francis to Jeff Bezos.  From good parents to starred generals. 

Phyllis, CPAC, draft, bathrooms, homosexuality, abortion; NONE of these were the opponent then and none of them are the opponent today.  Eleanor Smeal stated it clearly in July of 1982, apparently forgot.  Alice Paul stated it clearly in 1971 to Bernice Sandler on the very day Bunny testified, as Bunny repeated it to me 2012.  The whole of the insurance industry understands it clearly.   The lobby against single-payer healthcare understands it. 

Take a look at what the 27^th Amendment turned out to be, which would have been the ERA.  Take a hard look at the guile of an imposed deadline.  Look at the fact that the 27^th Amendment had NO deadline and it took 202 years, 7 months, and 10 days to pass:  1789 – 1992.    This is not a coincidence. 

Frankly, as we stand on the precipice of a 38th state ratifying, thanks to the unmentioned(!) strategy to remove the deadline, I ask that you do no dismiss me.  Do not toss my advisement.  This is your tool.  This is our tool.  This is the path to women ascending to leadership.  And WOMEN WILL SAVE THE WORLD.  I know it. YOU KNOW IT. 

The opponent is the patriarchal structure that profits from the oppression (ownership) of women.  The explicit inclusion of women in the United States Constitution will disassemble this inequity, case by case, over time.  It is not a piece of paper.  It is not 24 words. It is that the cornerstone of this country will be unable to sustain gender oppression under the law and women will have legal standing to demand rights. 

Baubles distract us.  Myths divert us.  Women supporting the patriarchy obscure the mission. 

Give yourself the winning hand, the leg up, the true possibility of victory.

KNOW the opponent, see its size, know its history, focus on its weakness. 
TAKE THEM OUT.

A Patchwork in Search of a Quilt

As the Women's March is fast approaching, I spent some time reading about the breakups, spats, legitimate arguments, the oppression olympics, the misuse of the word intersectional, the single river splintering into tributaries of self-importance.  All of it is right on time.  Entropy does not only apply to taking a car off the lot or putting a brand-new couch in the living room.  The visionary’s image is clear at inception, the founders embody it and. as it spreads out into more people's consciousnesses, it dilutes rather than reducing into something stronger. 

When I began devouring American Women’s History, it was because I was in the middle of a profound fight for women’s rights.  I wanted to know more about the ERA’s Visionary and understand the obvious entropic degradation to its, then, current status.  What I learned is still unfolding.  Thirty-six years of reading and six of which are dogged, heads-down study is still not enough to fully understand but, certainly, gives me some particular insight.  It also gives me a lot more questions than answers as answers are deeply perishable, dependent on their ineffable environment.   Maybe historians can tell us about life a hundred years ago but never can they measure heart.

The Visionary is all heart, often ignited by an epiphany; as was the case for Alice Paul, Gerda Lerner, Oscar Romero, Mohandas Gandhi and Francis of Assisi. It was not a low boil as was the case with Theresa of Avila or John of the Cross or Robert Greenleaf or Bill W.  The poet slowly peels.  The Visionary is thrown off the horse, stuck by lightening which makes it impossible to measure or ignore.  They are lit up and, regardless of its solitary revelation, must proceed. 

Following the provenance of the idea of liberating American women, there were a handful of spiritual women, mostly Quaker, inspired by the Iroquois, who coalesced a vision over a cup of tea.  Importantly, one essential question remains, liberating from what?  Simply put; invisibility, unpaid labor, non-citizenship, living a relative existence with zero agency.  They were either unrealized or holding varying degrees of realization with proportionate agony.  Let this be stated squarely, the Visionary suffers with seeing full possibility while painfully trying to pare it down to fit the, “conscience of the day,” in hopes of sharing it.

My expertise is studying and testing the heart of Miss Alice Paul.  She was struck with one single insight that never diluted in her 92 years.  She saw that American women will never realize the possibility of society’s equality without explicit, absolute equality in the US Constitution.  She was smart enough to know that the vote was a required stop on the road but never the destination. 

Miss Paul had something that no one today has, no one.  She was absolutely absolute.  Not only was she single-focused but it was irresistible.  Women, old and young, took her direction as orders.  Moreover, they wanted to be trusted with those orders.  Women who had barely spoken in their own parlors, stepped onto truck beds with flyers in hand to speak in open air about their rights, all because Miss Paul’s “violet eyes,” asked them to. 

Perhaps the first woman who posted on Facebook, in November of 2016 calling for a Women’s March, was inspired but it was never a sole vision, with a sole purpose.  Within days it was diluted, distributed, dissected, and the suffocation of entropy was in full swing.  Millions of women with their specific ideas of liberation, of resistance, of protest took the street.  2017 and 2018 held banner marches and 2019 will as well but banners will have many colors, many causes, many agendas.  Each will indicate a fissure, a separate understanding of liberation based on an interpretation and assignment of oppression.

I believe Miss Paul would advise that all of those tributaries would have a more prosperous future if one single item was won; full explicit irrevocable inclusion in the US Constitution.  Her vision assigned a wise priority.  Without that we are but a patchwork in search of a quilt.

As William Carlos Williams wrote,

so much depends
upon
the red wheel barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens

 

Secrets I Long to Tell

Clearly I can keep a secret.  I was not clear on any other component though.  Oddly, what really threw me was the crew constantly asking me, “Are you prepared for her to be dead?”  At first it was shocking.  Why would we be doing all of this if she had passed?  Then it was annoying and I wanted to say, yes I hear you.  Yes, I am prepared.

The time it really threw me was when Ann Curry asked me.  The question must be real if Ann Curry is asking me on camera.  My answer to Ann was, I think you will understand more than the crew.  I am a Buddhist.  We are always aware of impermanence, of age, of death.  I do know she is a bit older than I am.  The fact was, I had no idea where she is or what she is doing. The shoot continued which could only mean that no matter the circumstances, it was not going to impede us. 

The question I kept asking was, Can I tell people?  OH NO.  No, you cannot share your photos.  You can not talk about this on social media.  You cannot say who you are looking for.  You cannot tell people if you find her.  Heck, most of the time they didn’t even tell me where we were going.  I got a text the night before.  (virgo, cap rising - steadfast, premeditated, strategic).  My mantra for all 14 days was ~ surrender.

When can I tell people?  The funny thing here is that everyone I asked, anyone I asked, had a very different answer.  The possibility of error was maddening.  The PBS USA office said, I could reveal anything five minutes after they did.  The sole caveat was that the photos I shared could not include the crew.  So that’s what I did.  Remember, I have not seen the show.  It was all like describing a gift before you open it.  In tiny increments, PBS USA revealed this and that.  I followed their lead.

Breathe.  Show and Tell.  I was hoping to meet Sonia Johnson again.  I had not seen her for 36 years.  We parted in the Springfield airport and neither of us was well.  Though I didn’t realize it at the time, I was not just saying goodbye to my sister fasters but also our standing guard.  AND goodbye to the ERA.

Finally, Day 14.  There she was.  – you will have to watch to get the whole story as I traveled to 5 states, recapitulated my summer of 1982, and met up with my Mentor.

PBS, We'll Meet Again
Tuesday, January, 8,  9/8c

No Mom, its not People Magazine, its PBS

In 1982, there was a bit of press about the ERA and the Fast for Justice; not a lot but some.  The Los Angeles Times sent a reporter for a week.  The local TV station carried nightly news about it.  The biggest distribution was People Magazine.  E.T. was on the cover.  Mostly people had no idea where I had been those 6 weeks while in Springfield, Illinois fasting for the ERA.  In fact some thought I had gone to a “fat farm,” as the weight loss was significant. 

Last January I applied to “We’ll Meet Again with Ann Curry,” and when they contacted me in late February, I had forgotten.  The process began with a long skype interview which was taped, ha ha, again, I had no idea.  It isn’t that I am so humble, I am just used to the little pond and doing things which are often dismissed. 

When it was certain, when I was officially informed, I looked at the twitter account, the facebook page, the youtube channel.  The number of views are nothing I ever imagined.  This is home of Mr. Rogers, Sesame Street, and Downton Abbey – holy guacamole.  (Don’t mind noting the first girl muppet on Sesame Street was Zoe)

Public Broadcasting Service.  I remember so well, telling my mom to buy People Magazine late June 1982.  Such a magazine was not something she had bought before; but hey mom, this is PBS. 

PBS and a Surprise Dream

photos:Courtesy of Stephanie Berger/PBS

Early in the year I saw a single post on Instagram asking if there was someone from the past I would like to meet up with.  Without much consideration, I clicked the link and filled out the form to be on a PBS show, We’ll Meet Again with Ann Curry.  In 70 years, I have applied for lots of things and have yet to win the lottery.  I had no expectation and, for the most part, forgot about it. 

Weeks after I was invited to skype with someone from the film company.  I spoke with two women who had lots of questions and, no surprise, I had lots of answers.  Weeks after that, I was emailed that I had been selected.  The 90 minutes skype was an interview and had been recorded. 

Hundreds of photos delivered and dozens of questions answered, phone calls and a bit of paperwork, it was full steam ahead.  Honestly, it all seemed like a fantasy until this week, until I saw the ads, stills and a commercial. 

Over the next 6 weeks I will be writing about specifics but for now, let me just post this. 
I am so very, very excited!!

We'll Meet Again with Ann Curry
January 8, 2019
9/8c PM
PBS

Why is this Night Different than any Other?

I bet I am not the only person who is running internal inventory, trying to understand why things feel so bad.  Where to even begin? 

This last week has taken our nation deeper into hellfire than I thought possible.  However, I really want to measure why this, this, THIS is so suffocating. 

I turn to an idea that has worked for me over the years – the differential.  It is not one point vs another.  It is the distance between them and the time that transpired to discover the space traveled. 

Two years ago, no one expected anything like what we are now living with every day.  No one could ever have predicted that a deranged man would have a majority of boot-licking courtiers in Congress.  Today, explicit acts of hate are unleashed, celebrated and expected; heroic actually.

But even in this ghoulish nightmare of devil advocacy, something more is needling me.  I think that the anniversary, of how I felt two years ago is the gravest differential I have ever traveled.  Regardless of how anyone feels about Sec. Clinton, two years ago I was dreaming that a gigantic change was in the making.  On the second Tuesday of November, 2016, I believed Roe would be secure, Women in office would be “normalized,” the next four years would build to crescendo of celebrating the Centennial of the Vote.  Women would begin awakening to true potential.
 
Back to why this is feeling like death itself.  It is not that I am disappointed that my candidate lost.  It is not that I am a democrat and GOP is in control.  It is nothing happening specifically.  My pain lives in the distance between what I thought my 68 years were leading to and that, in fact, a nazi, narcissist with his enrolled thugs are moving at lightning speed disassembling human rights.  This river is wider than I thought was possible to cross. 

TELL WOMEN ~ TRUST WOMEN

 

 

I have so much I want to say about Ford v Kavanaugh.

Mostly I want to offer my rear view mirror which is more accurate and valuable every day.

Women under a certain age are going to be terribly bruised to see the circular history of misogyny. (of course it will ignite an insight that we are not doing enough to stop it--lets get real--we are not)

I feel many who care deeply are going to jolted by the fact that many of the men who grilled Dr. Hill and defended long dong silver - are still the ones holding the hearing. In fact, they are even more powerful today. (Hester Prynne, pray for us.)

Secondly, many women who have chosen to keep their assaults private and buried will be encouraged to do so as the ugliness of male privilege spews contempt in all directions. Please let me offer just a small and tender suggestion, tell women. Write it down and share it with women.

I don't think the #metoo movement has done anything for men whatsoever. It has seriously impacted women. However, if you decide to talk of your assault, TELL WOMEN. The is exactly what you tell kids lost in the mall - TELL WOMEN.

Maddow, Chani Nicholas and a couple of others have spoken about the massive triggering we are all going through. I mean ALL. (Hannah Gadsby #notallmen) This is the moment, the week, the time to tell one another, reach out to those who seem to be falling and, most importantly, TRUST WOMEN.

I am asking, begging, cautioning you to vote for women, Surely it is obvious that if Congress was, by majority, women, this would not be happening.

I BELIEVE DR FORD. little bad brett, with his wife and daughters by his side, is going to use women and girls without a second thought. The men in power think nothing of doing that. This is their world. Don't let it be yours.

Major #BluffReport #197

I know some people have been interested in my weight loss as its encouraging.  I thought I might recap the whole story thus far. 

When I first moved to Long Beach, I weighed 285 and wore a tight 3X, owned a few 4X.  I have to admit, I resigned myself to it.  I figured I would die at that weight.  I do not say, die from that weight as my BP & cholesterol were fine.  I was just deeply sedentary and content with that. 

For some reason, emotional in nature, I just lost my appetite.  It vanished.  Neither of these circumstances bothered me and I have to tip my hat to Long Beach as the people here never made me feel bad (not like Newport Beach) for being so heavy.

August of 2017 I was required to see my prescribing doctor.  I was shocked to see I weighed 250.   It was entirely unexpected but the effect was gigantic as it shouted to me that I was not doomed to live at 285.  Thus, I got curious to see what I could do. 

I started walking.  I walked to the park 5 blocks away, sat for a while and walked home.  I did that for a few weeks.  In half that time I did not need to sit to recover.  St Matthew’s Catholic Church was 5 more blocks and hosts a diorama of Juan Diego, kneeling with his tilma in front of Our Lady of Guadalupe.  I started to walk to Her.  I sat and enjoyed Her company.  Round trip is about .6 mile.  All the while losing a few pounds when I had the courage to look.  Honestly the weight loss was not my elixir, it was the mobility. 

By Christmas I was about 225.  I scoured my house of every bad cookie, cracker, ice cream, frozen pizza and ALL meat.  GONE.  Every piece of clothing that was a PLUS (1X, 2X, 3X, 4X) was donated.  I saved a few favorites and took them in. 

Weight loss had slowed down significantly but mobility exploded.  I discovered the BLUFF.  I put on my Beats and, for the first time, pushed myself to walk the length and back; 1.8 miles.  I began writing the #bluffreport and thought this might be a forever thing. 

The 2018 Women’s March was my first.  Every other march I had gone to (100s) I would drive to the end and wait.  But this year, I marched.  Jumping ahead, I walked 6 miles on PRIDE Sunday.  The terrible fear of not being able to keep up is over.  The March for Our Lives and Dyke March were “a walk in the park.”

The weight goal was just to stand on the scale and see the first number on the left to be a ONE.  It took many weeks but by April, that digital number was 199.  And it just stood still all of April and May.  That was fine.  I got all new clothes (new to me).  I bought some XL tees. 

 

Today, it was 197.  I looked and looked.  I really thought 199 was my new home.  I had hoped to lose 100 which would be 185 but let that float away.  It hardly mattered anymore.  To be honest, I like that I am still able to lose.  Maybe I will see 185.  BUT I will see you at the next march.  I will be wearing a tee.    

Women’s History Month Comes to Long Beach

Maybe it would be better to call it Women’s Month.  Maybe the word, “History” makes it sound like a snooze fest.  The fact is, history is us.  History is our provenance, both good and bad.  And as we spend time on Ancestry dot com, freak out over the loss of family photos and take pride in our roots; we know history is our personal treasure chest.

Years ago, I made a commitment to raise women from invisibility.  I had no idea how bad a situation was but soon found out.  I began by always looking for the women.  In every photo, in every museum, in every event, in every city, and in government.  I discovered that if you look hard enough the answer was filled with information. 

When I visited the Louvre, there were 3 paintings in exhibit by women.  At the Musee D’Orsay there were none.  At the Museum of Modern Art in Manhattan, they were able to run a data search, there were 423 works in all and 26 are by women.  SIX PERCENT!

In politics, women have never risen above 20%.  The U.N. publishes the list of 195 countries in the order of women in leadership.  In the last two years, the US has fallen from #75 to #100.  Mind you, that means 99 countries are ahead of the USA in women in leadership.

And how does Long Beach fit into this algorithm? 

Let me offer a few observations:

• I found only two women’s names at the foot of The Lonely Sailor on the Bluff.
• Where is Dolores Huerta Park?
• Where is Coretta Scott King Blvd?
• How many statues of women are there in the city?
• How many women are artists or subjects in the mural project, POW WOW?
• What is the city doing for Women’s History Month?

I prefer to offer solutions rather than simply state a problem. 

This year, I am presenting my one woman program, Tea With Alice and Me.  March 30, 7:30 PM, at the Beverly O’Neill Theater.  That evening, you will take a trip with me.  We will follow the incendiary thread of TEA in the (r)evolution of the American Women’s Movement; 1774 – 2018.  In fact, in the last section, there will be photos of some actions right here in Long Beach.

Primarily, this is about a woman most people have never heard of, Miss Alice Paul.  Did you know that before March 3, 1913 - NO ONE had marched to the White House.  Not a protest, not a demonstration, not a parade.  Miss Paul was the first.  She was the first to bring Nonviolent Direct Action to the United States.  Long Beach activists can learn much from Miss Paul.  She has been my inspiration, my North Star, my main muse.  Audience members will see themselves; Pickets, Parades, Banners, - all begun by Miss Alice Paul. 

So far, Long Beach has done just a sliver of a minimum for Women's History Month.  I hope this performance is just the beginning.  I hope that in learning about the VOTE, Equality, and nonviolent direct action, the city will find a rich camaraderie.  Together we can celebrate Women’s History Month by making history and raising women out of invisibility.   That would be a true revolution.

Beverly O’Neill Theater  
March 30, 7:30 PM 
parking included
Tea Reception
Cash wine bar

Tickets available on Eventbrite

 

CEDAW & International Women’s Day Redux @City Council

People asked me if I would speak on LEU. No, there are over 100 people who do that. Besides, this is one of 32 days in the USA calendar year that is legislatively assigned to raising women out of invisibility.

 

Tomorrow is International Women’s Day. Millions of women and girls all over the world will be celebrating, protesting, demonstrating, gathering to bring attention to:

• Educating girls
  
• Protecting women & girls from rape and sexual assault
  
  
• Raising women to positions in leadership

 

It is two years ago tonight I spoke to you about CEDAW; The UN Conventions on the Elimination of Discrimination Against Women. That night you voted unanimously to “study it.” I am interested in that study.

 

In those two years, The United Sates has fall from #75 in the world in Women in Leadership to #100. In those two years, 25 countries have advanced to surpass the USA in women in Leadership. (total of 194 countries)

 

Two years ago, I invited you to get ahead of the curve. Tonight I am just asking you to get on the curve. #metoo #timesup As of today, there are 34 CEDAW Cites, 11 are in California. There are many reports you can inspect and amend.

 

I am interested in that report you voted on. I hope you take up my interest. It would be nice to see one of the four councilwomen take this up. Maybe it would be even more interesting if one of the men did. Either way,

 

Happy International Women’s Day.

Proclamation for Juana

Here is what did not happen last night.  The Long Beach City Council did not present Juana Melara a proclamation congratulating her on being one of Time Magazine’s Person of the Year.  You might wonder why, let me answer with her quote from the speaker’s podium:

“Being #TIME’s person of the year is an honor that should be shared by the entire city, we shouldn’t be ignored and voted down by the city council” -Juana Melara  

That’s right.  On September 19^th, the council voted 5 – 4 against protecting the city’s hospitality workers, both on workload and assault protections.  There were many reasons, not the least of which was, ….well… Grand Prix.  I mean no one wants to see a sign in the hotel lobby that there is zero tolerance for sexual harassment and assault.  It would be a total buzz kill. 

When Agenda #20 came up for consideration and comment, several people from Clergy and Laity United for Economic Justice, LAANE and BHC lined up to speak.  As I told the council, item #20 would be a fine recommendation if this was 1999; a thought validated by the New York Times article this morning, (Sexual Harassment Training Doesn’t Work. But Some Things Do). 

One of the council women proudly announced that the answer is training women to defend themselves and that many hotels offer the very course taught to the police.  The assumption that a woman can even breathe through an assault in a closed hotel room while a man twice her size corners her or ties her up with the vacuum cord is outrageous.  It is immoral. 

The public commenters began, mostly women.  The last woman talked about her deep emotional response to the fact that her personal assault testimony on September 19^th had zero impact on the council.  In this context both Councilwoman Pearce and Councilwoman Gonzalez said the same thing.  As is mostly the case, two men spoke last.  One was concerned that with all these, “new genders,” he hoped this was not just about women.  The last speaker said he was particularly interested that we did not dismiss Police Chief Luna’s testimony that there have only been 1 or 2 reports of such workplace  assaults in 5 years.   

Councilwoman Price took the floor.  She began discussing bullying.  She accused the public speakers of bullying the council and that it is time for women to stand together. 

To break this down a bit,

BULLYING occurs when a person ridicules another, which may or may not result in the bullied person being thrown in emotional or physical danger, certainly made afraid.  Let me assure you, the commenters were not bullying the council. 

Speaking for myself, I was doing precisely what my social justice mentors taught me.  Alice Paul, Rosa Parks, Grace Lee Boggs, Ella Baker all taught us to EMBARRASS those in power by making the power differential clear.  Nothing could be further from bullying.  In fact, the bullying was in the opposite direction, as we were supposed to crawl away thinking that we better not offer proud and clear voices again.

Several of us begin speaking truth to power in the ‘60’s.  I began with George Wallace and my most recent was Barack Obama.  Frankly, the Vietnam war ended and DADT was reversed, the little pebble I offered in these massive mosaics validated my mentors’ methods. 

Secondly, Councilwoman Price made a plea for unity among women.  Don’t ask me to unify with those who are bullying me.  I would ask you to unify with me in standing in front of a hotel with a picket sign in solidarity with the Housekeepers.  Unity begins with supporting those who have the least power.  You have the direction in reverse.  Please bring your privilege and power to them, proclaim them the real heroines in the #metoo movement and join with Time Magazine in congratulating them on breaking the silence.  Bring them their City Proclamation. 

Finally, when the council chamber was almost empty, 15 or so people lined up with little pink signs to demand the recall of Councilwoman Pearce.  90% men listed their bullish reasons to demand this recall.  No one is fooled by this.  Silence.  Grave, deafening silence.  Where was the unity between women?  Was there too much to risk?  This was the time for women to unite.