Voices of Valley Women

Writing by and about Women living in the Shenandoah Valley

The Front Royal Women's Resource Center invites and encourages area women to be creative and publishes their original writings in the bi–monthly newsletter‚ The Weaver. Add your voice to our writer's forum and send us your original writings. We publish original writing in this newsletter and also plan on posting them on our web site. We might even create them into a book when we get enough!

Writing can be in any genre (poetry‚ fiction‚ non–fiction‚ letter‚ essay)‚ must be original‚ never published and should not exceed 500 words. Send all writings to FRWRC‚ P.O. Box 1748‚ Front Royal‚ VA 22630 or email document to joellen@shentel.net. Deadline for newsletter is the last Monday of the month.

January/February 2007

Remembering Stephanie Benzie

For Stephanie

Angels are singing‚
Their clarity surrounds you.
Each hand you held‚
Rejoices now in goodness.

Womanship came to us through you‚
Pride in each female task.
Pride in each role in life‚
Never allowing struggle.

Generous‚ loyal‚ a friend to all‚
Your family was blessed.
Our community was blessed‚
Now eternity hears your soul.

Mary Ellen South
November 22‚ 2006

The Holiday Celebration held at Atsuko Asada’s home in December was a rich evening full of “womanship”… Stephanie would have loved it. We shared stories from our lives and honored the life of Stephanie Benzie‚ a feisty and wise woman who has left a great void in the FRWRC with her passing. Her husband‚ Bruce‚ was on hand to share his own stories from their shared life and to hear how much she had contributed to all of us. As we move into a new year without her‚ it makes me happy to imagine Stephanie up there with all those other remarkable women who passed on last year. I see her being welcomed into the company of Rosa Parks‚ Coretta Scott King‚ Betty Friedan‚ Ann Richards and others and I imagine them laughing and telling stories as they work to keep us earthly women on track. They are gone but never forgotten.

On False Impressions and Wrong Assumptions

A stranger the other day
chanced to overhear me say
I’ve never been before
this way.

To which she said with downward look‚
Oh‚ you’re just not
adventurous.

I said I know all the trails
in the Shenandoah‚
and could have added Massanutten‚ North Mountain‚
Dolly Sods‚ Seneca‚ Canaan‚
Blackwater‚ Billy Goat and more
both north and south.

Or told her that I’ve seen
bear and mountain lions‚
bobcats‚ hawks with snakes‚
the Green Man and more‚
both great and small.

And that I’ve been chased by a bear‚
attacked by a turkey‚
buzzed by a buzzard‚
rattled by a snake‚
climbed down a dark mountain
with no light‚
caught in a flash flood‚
trapped between a deep chasm
and a rising river in a thunderstorm‚
swum many waters sans suit‚
flown loops and rolls and stalls‚
and have been lost and cold
and hurt and scared and prayed and more‚
both serene and wild.

Still‚ no‚ I’ve never bungee jumped
or climbed the face of Everest‚
or traveled down this road before
yet‚ yes‚ I am
adventurous.

Carol Toba
October‚ 2006

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March/April 2007

In The Silence

The wood pecker stopped laughing
in the empty sky
and in the silence
I felt the earth move‚
heard her singing
and saw her growing darkness.

Carol Toba

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May/June 2007

Ain’t I a Womanist?

Could I be a womanist? I was recently reminded of this term and decided to research its origins and current use.

I think that the word womanist must’ve been inspired by Sojourner Truth’s famous “Ain’t I a Woman” speech given at the 1851 Women’s Convention in Akron Ohio. The Oxford English Dictionary cited the word’s use in 1863 as “reflecting the strong minded womanism of the nineteenth century.” Surely it is more than coincidence that a mere 12 years had passed between Sojourner Truth’s memorable speech* and the OED’s citation.

The word “womanist” was revived and popularized by writer and activist Alice Walker in 1983. As Walker explained to the New York Times Magazine in 1984 “I don’t choose womanism because it is ‘better’ than feminism…Since womanism means black feminism‚ this would be a non–sensical distinction. I choose it because I prefer the sound‚ the feel‚ the fit of it; because I cherish the spirit of the women (like Sojourner) the word calls to mind‚ and because I share the old ethnic—American habit of offering society a new word when the old word it is using fails to describe behavior and change that only a new word can help it more fully see.”

Walker used the term womanist to describe black feminists at a time when black women were feeling excluded from what was seen as a white middle class movement. Walker’s definition included “any feminist of color…a woman who loves other women‚ sexually and/or non–sexually. Committed to survival and wholeness of entire people‚ male and female. Not a separatist‚ except periodically‚ for health. Traditionally universalist…Loves music. Loves dance. Loves the moon. Loves the Spirit. Loves love and food and roundness. Loves struggle. Loves the Folk. Loves herself. Regardless.” (New York Times Magazine‚ 1984).

Walker included such qualities as “wanting to know more and in greater depth than is considered ‘good’ for one…Responsible. In charge. Serious.” She traced its populist origins to “the black folk expression of mothers to female children‚ “You acting womanish‚” i.e.‚ like a woman. Usually referring to outrageous‚ audacious‚ courageous or willful behavior…as in: “Mama‚ I’m walking to Canada and I’m taking you and a bunch of other slaves with me.” Reply: ‘It wouldn’t be the first time.’ ”

Walker further described to writer Gloria Steinem that “Womanist literally includes man within it‚ just as an embryo is enclosed by a woman’s body; it’s a matter of whether or not a man can deal with that. Furthermore‚ I dislike having to add a color in order to become visible — a white feminist doesn’t have to say white feminist.”

Definite controversy surrounded the term in Canada in the 1980’s and early ‘90’s. It was recognized that the word acknowledged class and color privileges unrecognized by white feminists. This acknowledgement coexisted with the issue of cultural appropriation‚ i.e. empathizing or indeed adapting another race’s issues while romanticizing or overlooking the struggle inherent in being “other.” Being 100% WASP I didn’t use the word.

Meanwhile out in the larger world “womanist” was quickly incorporated into academic women’s and black studies’ programs and used by readers of Walker’s popular works. Growing numbers of women began describing themselves as womanist historians‚ or womanist theologians. Womanist creative traditions were described along with womanist theory. By 1993 The American Heritage Dictionary defined womanist as “Having or expressing a belief in or respect for women and their talents and abilities beyond the boundaries of race and class; exhibiting a feminism that is inclusive especially of Black American culture.”

Today from my middle aged perspective I believe that I have indeed become a womanist. In the mid ‘90’s‚ self identified as a feminist and living as a member of an isolated nuclear family‚ I exercised my desire to be an at home mother and immersed myself in the pink ghetto of early childhood development. That experience softened my edges and now I find‚ for instance‚ that in a bank full of women‚ workers and customers alike‚ I can share an experience rich with mutual understanding and laughter that goes deeper than a belief in the equality of men and women.

That is womanism. It lives wherever there are women and humor and understanding or even an attempt for mutual understanding‚ building bridges of empathy and support.

The 2006 American Oxford Dictionary defines womanist as a derivative of womanism noun: a form of feminism that emphasizes women’s natural contribution to society (used by some in distinction to the term feminism and its association with white women). Now I can understand that the use of the phrase ‘women’s natural contribution’ could be upsetting to some but I am grateful for the term and use it with an attitude of inclusivity‚ love and respect.

Thank you Sojourner Truth‚ Alice Walker and the countless women you have inspired.

*“Ain’t I a Woman” is also the title of a reknowned book by African$ndash;American intellectual‚ feminist and social activist Bell Hooks.

Leslie Fiddler

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September/October 2007

A Haiku

Two cups hot tea. Dishes.
Hands in soapy water‚ thoughts
Friends‚ joy‚ work‚ children

Leslie Fiddler

Karen’s Excellent Adventure

The evening was warm and sultry. It had been threatening to rain all day but only a few drops had blown in with the wind. I was at the house of Barb Harris‚ a friend and fellow “Good Old Girls” member at our monthly social get together. The talk after dinner had turned to health problems. I was sitting next to Mary Craig‚ a CPA‚ long time friend and cancer survivor who is tethered to an oxygen tank‚ but is always upbeat and thankful for every day. She had recently purchased a red 1988 Chevy convertible from a little old man in Sun City‚ AZ who had to go into a nursing home. So I turned to Mary and said “How do you like your convertible?” She said “Great—do you want to go for a ride?” So the next thing you know‚ three grey hairs‚ Barb‚ Mary and I are in her red convertible with the top down headed for Montana City. Barb was driving since Mary also has macular degeneration and doesn’t see too well. My hair was blowing back‚ we had a golden oldies station blasting on the radio‚ and we were cruising down the Interstate. I looked back at Mary in the back seat with her oxygen tank and she had a ski hat on. “Are you cold” I said. “No” she said‚ “I have to wear a hat to keep my hearing aids from blowing out of my ears.” I got to drive on the way back and it was a dream. I felt like we were flying along but when I looked at the speedometer‚ I was only doing 55 mph. Back at the party‚ we hadn’t even been missed‚ but the conversation had moved on to identity theft. A good time was had by all.

— Written by Karen Booker to her daughter (Karen is JoEllen McNeal’s sister from Montana)

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November/December 2007

On Walnut Ridge

The rain fell
all morning like cool satin
flowing over the dark skinned trees‚
caressing their limbs.

A great love
beyond anything yet known
can be found within the presence
of this soft embrace‚

But you must
leave the place you call home
and walk alone into the woods
to remember this.

Even now
in the fading light of dusk‚
the trees slip their golden mantle
around my shoulders.

JoEllen McNeal — October 2006

Grandmother’s China

I remember well the majesty of it‚
Opening the corner cupboard doors‚
A place I wasn’t allowed to visit often.

Within lay the discovery‚
China‚ porcelain and glass.
Simple pieces passed down‚
Yet to my eyes‚ a bounteous treasure.

It was by privilege to handle each piece‚
Preparing the table before the meal‚
Careful not to drop as I wiped each gem

They are now in a cupboard in my home‚
I take them out with the same respect.
Recalling the special meals of the past‚
My family’s fingers touching the edges.

Mary Ellen South — Thanksgiving 2004

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