seeing red

Lysne Beckwith Tait, founder of Helping Women Period, presented to my WGS students today. She also set up a "menstrual products petting zoo" in class for people to check out. As she rightly pointed out, when menstrual cups, discs, and undies are in packaging, it is difficult to figure out if one would be comfortable using them.

I absolutely love the story of the growth of the organization--it started out after a conversation with friends and now influences, advocates, and educates--it was instrumental in repealing our tampon tax last year, for instance. Lysne's book Instigator: Creating Change Without Being the Loudest Voice in the Room comes out later this year, and I can't wait!

Pic: Saying goodbye to Lysne in the parking lot. Of course, the Helping Women Period van is red. Mid-cycle red.

companion song

desire turning into decision 
at once terrifying, free
I am moved

into the path of turning knives
their rhythms familiar
I am here

afraid of turning the page
my mind un-scrolling

I am opened

like a hinge into the world

I've been here before--

I return once more

_____________________

Pic: Max and Huck, my writing companions, snoozing in the sunshine.

looking up

At the beginning of class, I make space for students to share what they're presenting/performing/playing and send shout-outs to classmates. Today, one of them mentioned that I would be on the panel for the Gaza teach-in on Monday and said it was a shout-out to me. It was such a small thing, but I felt so seen and supported. 

I also spent time today answering questions for an article on the "uncommitted" vote movement for the student newspaper. Students have been wonderful allies, and their idealism and outrage have helped me feel hopeful for the world. I'm convinced the push by our elderly lawmakers to ban TikTok is because that platform bypasses the hangups and hurdles of legacy media and makes it easy for young people to inform and organize amongst themselves.

Pic: Random, ultra-bright, volunteer crocuses that showed up on our driveway this morning. 

a private communion

I dream of tangerines
sweet with summer
how I will wait 

for the right moment  

to touch, peel them 

with reverence

their flesh like that

of a new beloved
still secret

our meeting--kisses 

sluicing nectarine 

in blessing 

________________________

Pic: Geese on the banks of the Red Cedar. I thought there was something very balletic about their pose...

spring forward anyway

We woke up to snow on the ground, but it's Spring in my heart anyway.

Big A wimped out because it was cold and windy, but I took a long walk in the snow anyway.

It's too early to start the garden like I want to, but I started an array of herbs in planters indoors anyway.

Pic: Basil, thyme, rosemary, and mint growing in the solarium upstairs (the blue and red pots). Our quirky old house has lots of inconveniences, but its passive solar design means there's lots of light. I might as well use it for something good.

scenic/cynic

When I leave this country of fog
my bags of salt fall into the river
carried away like tears

*
breezes blow out birthday candles
whistle through my aching head

lift thoughts like kites

*

every day I make my body stronger
it will build a city, knock out bullies

I dream as fast as I can 

_____________________

Pic: The Red Cedar behind L's house. L will be gone for a month, so we had an extra long walk-and-talk this week.

more tea

This Friday started off slow--just a couple of advising meetings in the morning. But the afternoon was chairing the WGS section of MASAL, presenting a paper, showing up to a mentoring pod (somehow, I'm the senior-most and the most mentor-y), and then the faculty meeting. The final part of the workday was the annual International Women's Day Tea at MacCurdy House. 

The last part was my favorite, but I was tired when I got home. Thus endeth (I think!) my spate of late evenings at work this semester. 

Pic: Tea at MacCurdy. The Eleanor Roosevelt quote framed on the wall makes it perfect: “A woman is like a tea bag. You never know how strong it is until it's in hot water.”  Memories of other years: Pre-pandemic and Post-pandemic