A Feminist Since Birth

This past Sunday I attended a meeting of WAGE International (Women and Girls’ Education International) and I was so very inspired by the experience. I was invited to the meeting after I had been asked by their president Heather Mistretta and agreed to become a board member. I didn’t hesitate an instant to say, “Yes!” even though I didn’t really know that much about their group.

WAGE is committed to empowering women and girls and educating everyone to stop the cycle of violence against women and girls. Stepping into the home of WAGE’s founder Rekha Datta on Sunday afternoon was a leap of faith, given how little I knew about WAGE. But as we gathered and introduced ourselves to each other, I knew that I was in the right place. Sitting around the living room of our host’s house, I was struck by all the amazing people who were drawn together for a mutual cause. Rekha’s husband introduced himself by saying that he was “a feminist since birth.” That is such a wonderful way to put it, I thought. I, too, am indeed a feminist since birth, fortunate to have been raised by my thoughtful and loving parents in such an unusual and peace-loving town of Roosevelt, New Jersey.

Attending the WAGE meeting was coming home. Coming home to feminism, coming home to peace, coming home to activism and finally coming home to New Jersey. WAGE is headquartered in Monmouth County, NJ, about 2 hours away from my current home in New York. My hometown of Roosevelt where I grew up is also in Monmouth County. And Roosevelt was a town filled with activists in the 60s and 70s. I am grateful that I grew up there and was exposed to so many forward thinking and creative individuals.

Throughout my life, I have been committed to empowerment of women and girls though I hadn’t fully strung together all the links of my passion and experience until yesterday morning. While I was in meditation with my Wednesday morning group at The Garrison Institute, immense emotion arose in me as memories of the feminist and activist work I have done over the years came flooding over me.

As a child, I attended peace marches in DC along with my family, traveling by chartered buses filled with all ages of Rooseveltians. My brother and I were little-kid activists: children’s equality, and recycling (see Gnilcycer: Recycling In Roosevelt, New Jersey) where our main areas of focus. And of course, feminism was ingrained in me. My mom was a beautiful feminist role model, striving for equal rights. She also subscribed to Ms. Magazine from its inception and I remember fondly how much I loved reading each issue when it arrived in the mail.

Equality and peace are closely connected so I suppose it isn’t surprising that working with WAGE to educate and empower and promote peace is a good match for my passions. I have had opportunities throughout my life to contribute to causes that help women and girls. My entire business career I was always very focused on helping to support and promote women in my company and mentored women as well as men to be empowered to be themselves and strive for greatness in their work. Along the way I also took time away from the corporate world and did some powerful work with girls and boys.

Although I have been living in New York for most of my adult life, I have been drawn to groups that are all over the country. As part of a yearlong leadership program that met in Sebastopol, California, I developed and held a workshop for boys and girls at a summer camp in Yosemite, CA. I remember that day so well. I flew from New York into Oakland, CA and drove for over an hour to the camp to hold the workshop with my co-leader Angela.

Angela and I were deliberately paired because our leadership styles were very different and one goal of the amazing leadership training was learning how to dance with and co-lead when your partner has a different natural style. This is such a gift of learning for life because we encounter so many people who have different backgrounds, talents and experiences from our own. We need to realize that other perspectives and approaches are neither the right nor wrong way. Learning how to lean into a different way of working with someone is a peaceful act. It is accepting colleagues for all that they are and working towards navigating differences with ease. It is about learning to trust each other no matter that we have different ways. What a great learning for me and also what a great experience leading a group of boys and girls from that peaceful stance.

Part of the tenets of my co-leading training was learning how to use improvisational techniques to build off of another person. I loved doing the improvisational games over the year training and became so enamored with improv that I took a summer course at The Upright Citizen’s Brigade in NYC. One of the main reasons I love to write and speak is that I enjoy creating with language. Improv training gave me an invaluable tool to create off the cuff, something I draw upon all the time for writing and giving presentations.

Improv also allows for playfulness and creating from nothing. The flow and spontaneity I feel when using language to convey my thoughts and feelings fills me with such joy. And it makes me feel so empowered. So I had a thought. What if I can connect my love of improv and my sense that it is such an empowering skill with my passion of empowering girls? I decided to seek out organizations that did just that and discovered a wonderful group, called ACTNOW in Northampton, Massachusetts near Smith, Amherst and Mt Holyoke Colleges. I met with their organizer, Nancy Fletcher and volunteered to do some work with them. They use movie making and improvisation to empower girls. The girls take on any one of the many roles needed to create a film including writing, directing, camera work, acting and editing. Although ACTNOW was closer than my groups in California, it was a three-hour drive from my home in New York. I only worked with them for a short time, yet I have fond memories of the amazing girls and that organization.

And so it turns out that it isn’t uncommon for me to travel far in order to participate in activities designed to empower girls. I will travel over the country in search of groups of people who share my passion for women, girls, empowerment and peace. And though I have dabbled here and there, I wonder where my need to help empower women will take me next. I am excited about what lies ahead with WAGE International, and I know that this organization is a catalyst for me to further experience how I can promote feminism, love and peace in the world. I am grateful that they have found me and I them.

XOXO Rachel

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The Moment My Taste Buds Came Alive

I have always enjoyed food—and food is certainly a topic that fits into many of my memories of childhood. I indeed baked a lot as a little girl (see Ode to Baking Chocolate Chip Cookies) and I cooked many of our family’s meals. But I don’t think as a kid that I would have ever called myself a foodie (though the trendy term foodie probably didn’t exist then—maybe gourmand in that era?). Whatever you call it, I did not become one with food until I became an adult. Nonetheless, there are several events from my childhood that foretold that I would become a foodie. One in particular stands out as the moment my taste buds came alive.

The year was 1971 and I was 10 years old. This year was an important one for so many more reasons than my awakening to food. This was the year of many firsts: first learning some French, first reading and writing poems (see the photos of the index cards of my poems), first learning how to give back massages (I am still pretty good at that for a non-trained masseuse if I don’t say so myself), first really kissing a boy, and first riding a motorized mini-bike to name a few. This all transpired because it was the year that I went to a private “Free School” called Erehwon. Erehwon (nowhere spelled backwards) was located in a house in Princeton Junction, NJ where 50 or so children of all ages attended. The school was based on the famous Summerhill School in England,  an alternative open school where much of the learning was (and still is) experiential rather than entirely textbook trained.

Although there was some learning of traditional materials, for me the year was a year of learning about relationships and social rules and broadening of my mind culturally. I would have remained at Erehwon for more than just one year but financially the school couldn’t make it. I wonder how I would have fared academically if I had been schooled that way until high school. When I went back to my grammar school after one year and having only missed the traditional 5th grade, it was as if I had never left and I continued to excel.

The day in 1971 that remains vivid to me after all these years is our trip to BAM—Brooklyn Academy of Music. Well, to be honest, it isn’t really about the show at BAM. I can’t even remember what we watched (though I think it was dance). What I remember is the drive there. We were spread across a couple of station wagons and I got to sit all the way in the back—those days many station wagons had a row of seats facing backwards. From my perch, I waved to my friends in the other car of our caravan and tried to get strangers to wave back at me as well. And most of all I remember our pre-theatre meal in lower Manhattan at an Indian restaurant. Yes, BAM is in Brooklyn, but we took a detour via the Staten Island Ferry into Manhattan for dinner before going over the Brooklyn Bridge to see the show.

I had never had Indian food before and I can almost conjure the experience of my first whiff of the aromatic surroundings in that restaurant. I remember the miraculous moment that I ate a piece of lamb in a creamy orange sauce (I am guessing now that I know Indian food that it was probably Lamb Korma). It was amazing! I didn’t know food could be so rich in depth in flavor and color and aroma. I was in a trance and that probably explains why the rest of the evening is barely observable in my memory. From that day on, I have been trying to recreate the experience of my taste buds dancing and singing and coming alive! I’ve had a lot of success finding divine eating moments in my life since then and I remember many of them. But none are as profound as the moment my taste buds came alive when I was just a sweet young girl coming alive to all the wonders of the world during 1971.

XOXO Rachel

In Praise of Self-Consciousness—i.e. Self-Awareness

I remember as a kid that I frequently felt self-conscious—you know, that awkward feeling of discomfort when you said something and were all too aware that it didn’t come out right.  Or you did something and you thought you looked stupid or foolish—like that first time I slow-danced with a boy at a party.  I was just reading an article that used the expression “self-conscious” when I suddenly saw the words in a different light.  Out of curiosity I looked up the definition of self-conscious and this is what it said, “Aware of oneself as an individual or of one’s own being, actions or thoughts.  Such an awareness can impair one’s ability to perform complex actions.  Synonyms include: awkward, uncomfortable, insecure, even embarrassed”.

Ah, but to be self-conscious is a wonderful thing if looked at from another perspective.   And this perspective doesn’t entirely fit the dictionary definition.  Yes, I agree that to be conscious of yourself means that you are aware of your own thoughts and feelings.  You are self-aware.  I would add that to be self-aware also means that you are aware of the impact of your words, actions and behaviors not just on yourself—you are aware of your words, actions, and behaviors on others as well.  But here is where I diverge from the standard definition.  It doesn’t have to be the case that such an awareness impairs your ability to perform complex actions.  To be self-conscious can be such a powerful way to be.  To be aware of your thoughts, actions and behaviors and understand their impact on you and on others is to fully experience life!  Why should it make you insecure or embarrassed?

Now granted, as a student of linguistics, I am well aware that “self-conscious” has a non-literal interpretation or connotation and not just the literal interpretation: “conscious of self”.  It is true that in some instances when you are more aware of what you are saying or doing, you become stuck on that awareness.  Perhaps you said something that was misunderstood or you did something that didn’t make you look so good so you are embarrassed.  But can’t it simply be that your awareness is just that—an awareness of whatever it is you are being or doing in that moment?

So today I am redefining “ self-consciousness” as “self-awareness”.  I say that it is a wonderful and completely not uncomfortable thing to be self-aware.  I say that it is the best way to live and love your life so that you can feel the depth of your experience, feel the impact on your actions on yourself and others.  And if you do feel embarrassed or uncomfortable, you get to learn from the experience and perhaps change your future action—or not change your future action :).  Or maybe you could even relish looking foolish if it is something that isn’t hurting anyone—like slow dancing with a boy, or frolicking in an apple orchard!

The quality of snow

There is something very satisfying and important to me about the quality of snow.  It can be at once both very calming and sad or furious and determined.  Part of the quality has to do with the rate at which it descends – floating down softly in a light snow, or a fast and heavy downfall that collects many inches in no time.  Today, the snow is almost drifting down to the ground and just a trace of whiteness appears around our yard.  First the tree limbs become white, and then slowly the ground picks up the tinge as well.  Perhaps because of the slowness of the flakes arrival to the earth, I feel as if I am being blanketed with a reminder to take one step at a time and the accumulation will happen eventually.  “The accumulation of what?” you may ask.  And my response is “of anything”.  Writing is dropping snowflakes one at a time that requires a kind of patience as the words accumulate into a larger piece.  I find that a certain soft quality much like the snow is at least one way in which I approach the paper to write.  I sit in front of my keyboard and let the words fall to the page.  There are snowstorm days where I can feel my blood pressure rise and my fingers won’t type fast enough to keep up with the quick flow of words that come from my manic cloud-mind.  In general I find that even in the calm days of light snowfall, I have a tendency to not breath well enough.  It is almost as if the anticipation of interacting with my thoughts on the page is just so intense that I loose the rhythm of my breath and get disconnected from most parts of my body, save my hands.

The quality of snow, although clearly present today on this early November snow-day, is present in all seasons in a variant.  Misty days in any season are not unlike light-snowfall.  They too are quiet and solemn and softly push me toward my inner contemplation.  The weather provides access to parts of myself that otherwise would not be present or at least have not been paid attention to recently.  Attention.  Yes the process of attention is a big part of the weather impact for me.  The weather draws my attention to much finer detail.  With snow, depending on my attention, I am transfixed to a small spot or a grand area.  In one moment, I might catch a single flake on its route to the ground.  Beginning at the top of the window, I latch up to one flake and my eyes travel down until it hits the ground and disappears into the accumulated flakes or wet ground.  In another moment I look straight ahead and welcome the multitude of snowflakes lofting through the air.  The simple change of my attention to the frozen clumps gives me very different sensations.  Part of the quality of snow is this flexible frame of reference, flexibility that is a perfect companion to words.

Words.  Or snow

Irregular, regular formulations of sparkly light

that provide me moisture, lubrication of mind.

Know no cares nor reason to be – other than present

to the curvature and surfaces that approach as they befall.

Sparse or clumped in action, yet no deliberation

intended or even needed.

They just appear.

The high of presenting

There is a high that I get when I am in my element in front of a group of people doing a presentation.  The sensation is a sign that I am at my core in my most powerful state of presence, and fully revealing all that is unique to me.  I probably have not sought out these opportunities as much as would be beneficial to me, and that is probably due to the incredible demands of energy and resource the process requires.  Yet I am reminded each time when I am in front of the room that engaging with others is my oxygen.

I love the feeling when I have something to share with others and they understand what I am saying and are in some way impacted by my words.  Thus I have been successful in my act of speech.  It is an awesome experience for me, probably varied in the intensity of the experience for the other person, but at its core, it is just the simple act of communicating.  I am drawn to the psychology of language and communication because of what appears as a rather mundane and automatic cognitive process on the surface is really much more.  One person speaks, the other receives the information, processes the information and gets meaning all in an instant.  An amazing and powerful act of sharing between two (or more) people has occurred.

The “aha” of comprehension and connecting in a group setting has another element that adds to the depth of my experience.  At some energetic level, the act of speech becomes much more than sharing of words.  Standing in front of a number of people, I feel as if my arms are wrapping around the entire room in a warm embrace, so that I am not just imparting words, I am sharing my whole being and almost physically linking.  I am exchanging and baring my inner passion, my beauty, my peace, my love and in return I receive a high.  The high is a sign that I am present and alive and humbled by human connection.