I didn’t write a blog post on International Women’s Day.
I didn’t post about it on social media. No writing on Facebook, no Twitter threads, no Instagram photos. I didn’t even put up a measly “story” on Instagram or Facebook.
I didn’t have a particular reason for not writing about it. Lord knows I have plenty of material at my disposal, between my wife and daughter and the other admirable women in my life. But the day came and went with nary a mention from me.
But I should have.
Late the next evening, as I scrolled through my social media feeds, I found that a friend of mine – a woman, for the record – did write about the day.
Or, to put it more accurately, she wrote about the men in her life on International Women’s Day:
International Women’s Day…was yesterday. And, today, as yesterday, I’m in pain.All these men in my life who claim they are allies…nearly none of them said a single thing.Not a word about where they see everyday misogyny that could be easily changed. Not a meme underscoring what we could be doing to center the voices of women of color… not a thing. Just …more silence.I’m tired of a world where I and fellow women are responsible for all the emotional labor.I’m tired of a world where I, and fellow women are expected to give all of me and ‘prove’ I’m as ‘good/strong/smart/smarter’ than the boys AND still pick up all the proverbial housework, too.I’m tired of living in a world where medicine ignores (or just can’t be bothered with) my body and its needs when they are not identical to men’s bodies and men’s needs.I’m tired of a world where women always come in dead last in political battles— unless women are your key to a win. Then, all of a sudden, we’re worth your time and effort. But only for that very brief moment in history. And then, we’re going to overvalue fair-skinned women and undervalue or downright ignore women of color.I see you, all of y’all. WE see you. We see and hear the silence.I’m tired of all of it. And I want to know when the men in my life are going to show up when it’s uncomfortable and hard to show up, not just when it’s comfortable and easy because everyone is already making a ruckus.Where are you guys?
I don’t know if she had me in mind when she put her words to the screen. I assumed I was one of the men to whom she referred but I didn’t ask. Admittedly, I was afraid and ashamed of the possibility that I was right.
Either way, her post has continued occupying space in my mind over the past two months. With every news story, every mention of political battles and every time I chose to stay on the sidelines, I heard her voice.
I see you.
I remember telling myself as I read her writing that I am still an ally. My contributions by serving as a therapist for teens, as a social worker for families in crisis and as a religious school teacher for 7th graders must surely keep my ally title valid.
We see you.
I thought about one of my favorite teachings from Pirkei Avot: “You are not expected to complete the task, but neither are you free to avoid it.” It’s not my job to solve all of the world’s problems. I don’t necessarily have to run for public office or start an organization or become President in order to be an ally. It’s fine if I just keep doing my small-scale work and helping people one individual at a time.
But it wasn’t fine.
We see and hear the silence.
I spoke with my students this week about the draft of the Supreme Court’s decision to overturn Roe v. Wade. When we spoke about the students making their voices heard, one girl said that it didn’t matter what she or her classmates did. She said that writing letters and calling political officials and even speaking with the adults in their lives were futile because “We’re kids and nothing is going to change anyway.”
That was the moment that I realized I needed to speak up myself. I needed to show my students that I was able to follow through on my own recommendations for them. They needed to see that, even if I wasn’t going to orchestrate large-scale change, I was still willing to make my voice heard about the injustices I saw in the world. I had already shown that I could serve as a supportive adult in their lives. Now I had to demonstrate some of that support in real-time.
Moreover, speaking up was critical for my daughter, my wife and the other aforementioned women in my life. I assume – there’s that word again – that they all know where I stand on issues like body autonomy for women.1 But, just as in therapy, believing something to be true isn’t as good as hearing that truth confirmed.
So please consider this my official statement of resistance against the conservative political machine. Women should have the right to decide what happens with their own bodies, plain and simple. Having that right taken away is unacceptable and dangerous.
I am an ally. I can’t promise that I will always act in exactly the right ways to show my support for the causes that matter most. But I can promise that my support will never go away.
Whether you can see it or not.
Many thanks to my friend, Sam LaDue, for letting me share her post (and for calling me out). You can read the entire piece here.
Featured image by Mark Thomas from Pixabay
