Hear us Roar
Last Friday was International Women's Day, and organizations in Spain called for women to strike all day, in all aspects, work, home, and shopping. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to do so this year, except in the shopping aspect. I also couldn't attend the evening protest, but I did attend the midday concentration in Santiago.
There were women of all ages and walks of life, from an elderly lady with a cane, to babies in prams. A few men also attended. There were three columns that converged in the center of town. My daughter and I joined the column that wended its way through the South Campus of the university. Most of the university was marching with us, professors included. A wonderful young professor my daughter had had for a class even volunteered to paint our faces. (I don't do selfies, so there's no record.)
We merged, and we shouted and sang. Most of us were wearing something purple, or carrying purple signs or flags, so the confluence of the streets were covered in lilac; spring before its time. We shouted and sang for our recognition as the equal half of humanity. We shouted and sang to break the glass ceiling and have women appointed CEO's, to be considered for an upper echelon job on our merits. We shouted and sang to be paid the same as men in the same jobs. At a cannery in the Vigo area, where women stopped working for two hours, men are paid on average €80 more working side by side with the women at the same conveyor belt. We shouted and sang to share the chores at home with our men folk, instead of having to dedicate ourselves to them almost exclusively. It is not something laudatory to have a man offer to wash the dishes or make dinner; it should be something normal, because they're household chores that affect him, as well.
We shouted and sang to be believed. Too many women are considered hysterical or liars by some police and judges when they denouce gender violence or sexual aggression. We shouted and sang to remain safe at all hours of the day and night. The mere fact of walking along a street in the early hours of the morning is not an invitation to anyone to stalk and abuse a woman. Only last week, one day at eight in the morning, a woman was attacked and tried to be dragged into an alleyway in Santiago as she was walking to work. Thankfully, another man working on a construction site nearby heard her screams and went to help. Violence against women is not simply domestic violence, but a violence based on the physical superiority of a man, and the objectification of women as men's sexual toys.
We shouted and sang, and marched. We will shout and sing and march until we are recognized as equal partners in this race to infinity. We have found our voices and will not be silenced any more. Over three hundred fifty thousand marched in Madrid, alone. Tens of thousands in the smaller cities, over a hundred thousand in the larger ones. We are women, hear us ROAR.
There were women of all ages and walks of life, from an elderly lady with a cane, to babies in prams. A few men also attended. There were three columns that converged in the center of town. My daughter and I joined the column that wended its way through the South Campus of the university. Most of the university was marching with us, professors included. A wonderful young professor my daughter had had for a class even volunteered to paint our faces. (I don't do selfies, so there's no record.)
We merged, and we shouted and sang. Most of us were wearing something purple, or carrying purple signs or flags, so the confluence of the streets were covered in lilac; spring before its time. We shouted and sang for our recognition as the equal half of humanity. We shouted and sang to break the glass ceiling and have women appointed CEO's, to be considered for an upper echelon job on our merits. We shouted and sang to be paid the same as men in the same jobs. At a cannery in the Vigo area, where women stopped working for two hours, men are paid on average €80 more working side by side with the women at the same conveyor belt. We shouted and sang to share the chores at home with our men folk, instead of having to dedicate ourselves to them almost exclusively. It is not something laudatory to have a man offer to wash the dishes or make dinner; it should be something normal, because they're household chores that affect him, as well.
We shouted and sang to be believed. Too many women are considered hysterical or liars by some police and judges when they denouce gender violence or sexual aggression. We shouted and sang to remain safe at all hours of the day and night. The mere fact of walking along a street in the early hours of the morning is not an invitation to anyone to stalk and abuse a woman. Only last week, one day at eight in the morning, a woman was attacked and tried to be dragged into an alleyway in Santiago as she was walking to work. Thankfully, another man working on a construction site nearby heard her screams and went to help. Violence against women is not simply domestic violence, but a violence based on the physical superiority of a man, and the objectification of women as men's sexual toys.
We shouted and sang, and marched. We will shout and sing and march until we are recognized as equal partners in this race to infinity. We have found our voices and will not be silenced any more. Over three hundred fifty thousand marched in Madrid, alone. Tens of thousands in the smaller cities, over a hundred thousand in the larger ones. We are women, hear us ROAR.
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| "There is no barrier, lock, or enclosure that you can impose on the liberty of my mind." |
I have been doing women's marches since the 1970s. I even took my daughter along. We need to keep marching. Thank you for picking up the torch.
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