RCG-I Seasonal Salon Summer Solstice 2008
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Summer Solstice 2008 Salon Home Page Step Out of Patriarchy; Step into Yourself |
Step Out of Patriarchy; Step into Yourselfby Debby Zygielbaum"Lesbian" slides off my tongue, a little slippery salamander, lands in my bowl and skitters under a leaf of lettuce. I push my fork cautiously into the salad. Out it jumps, slip-slides across the table and disappears over the edge. I look around slyly. No one notices; no greedy-eyed monsters of patriarchy rise up to do battle. My girlfriend takes another bite of her Grand Slam meal. Conversations continue around us. Glasses chime and plates clink as waiters pour water and deliver orders. Life at Denny’s continues as normal. "Would you like anything else?" asks our waitress. I shake my head. "What were you saying?" asks my girlfriend. "I was saying . . . " I see the bubble growing, growing, a perfect sphere of iridescence. It expands, enclosing us, our table, our conversation. The salamander grins smugly by the salt shaker. This is it, I think, the Background.[1] We’ve all been there, some of us might even be lucky enough to live there. It’s that place we go when we’re safe, when patriarchy fades to a distant memory. Wimmin’s space, wimmin’s knowing. We’ve learned to survive the foreground,[2] but we live in/for the Background. Disagreement, angry words, mistrust. The salamander huddles, cold and miserable, in a corner. The meeting drags on. Wimmin grind their teeth in frustration. It wasn’t meant to be this way: we came together with love and trust and good intentions. But patriarchy is knee-jerk, our first unthinking reaction, insinuated into our psyches by thousands of experiences. So, we forget and drag the foreground into the Background, digging into each other like we’ve been taught: "If I don’t take care of it, no one will." "I can’t trust you." "There won’t be enough for all of us." "What makes you think that’s patriarchy. Now, I know patriarchy . . ." "Why can’t you just agree with me?" Wimmin yell, scream, stop, threaten each other, storm out. The salamander slinks across the floor and vanishes under the couch. It seems then, that this community will be lost, irreparably torn by our internalized oppression. It wouldn’t be the first time; probably won’t be the last. I’ve listened to my foremothers tell the tale of how the wimmin’s movement was split and shredded by mistrust and in-fighting. They say that patriarchy would have us rip each other apart. Who are we, I wonder, if we can’t stand together? But there’s a moment, clear and crisp, when something changes. A tiny spark of memory. Wimmin come back, sit down. Angry voices quiet. A moment of silence to find Goddess within. We still don’t agree, may never agree, and there are hurt feelings that need to be assuaged in private conversations. But all that matters is that in the end, there we all are, still sitting in the same room, still committed to each other, to this community, to our Background. The salamander suddenly reappears on the coffee table. I’ve learned that I need to take a moment to adjust when I enter wimmin’s space from my daily interactions in the foreground. It’s like stepping from a cold, dark house into warm sunlight. I peel away the layers of defense and open myself up to be myself. I mean, I am myself in the foreground (that’s also how I chose to combat patriarchy), but there’s being yourself in dangerous space and being yourself in safe space. It’s just plain street smarts. In the foreground, wimmin are prey. In the Background, I am safe; I am valued as a human being. I remind myself: this is wimmin’s space. I come here in love and trust. Remember who you are talking to! Listen to your sisters. Remember that each womyn has uniquely experienced the subtleties of patriarchy and that each womyn is uniquely struggling to undo the damage and grow beyond it. That is why we are all here in the Background; wimmin’s community is about honoring and recognizing those experiences and responding to wimmin’s concerns. Speak, I remind myself quietly, with gentleness and compassion. Most of all, re-member who you are. The salamander jumps into my pocket, grinning. I open the door and as my eyes adjust I notice a small sign sticking out of the grass. It reads: "Welcome to the Background. Wimmin, please step out of patriarchy, step into yourself." [1] Background (Denise D. Connors) n: the Realm of Wild Reality; the Homeland of women’s Selves and for all other Others; the Time/Space where auras of plants, planets, stars, animals and all Other animate beings connect. Compare foreground. Mary Daly in cahoots with Jane Caputi. Webster’s First New Intergalactic Wickedary of the English Language (San Francisco: Harper Collins, 1994), p. 63. |
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