Poem: #MeToo, We Re-Member by Marie Cartier


I need the grandmothers to help me

re-member my rage.

Cross stitch. Double knot.  I sew it back on. The raggedy parts I let fly loose

when I thought it was OK to not be “so angry.”

“Boys will be boys.”

And so then, girls will be angry.

And we will re-member—our rage.

I need the great aunts, and all the old women with the signs that read,

“We are still protesting this shit.”

I need them, this herstory to help me

re-member my rage, feel it strong and tight. Cross stitch. Double knot. Those women re-member

me. I am that woman. She is me.

Our rage is a song.

After all this time, we are still singing it. Our rage

is a river and we swim in it, even if it’s upstream. There is a fierce mermaid goddess,

Yemaya. She protects us. She knows

our rage is our best defense.

Our rage is a

swarm of bees. Not yet extinct. Our rage

is holy. Terror.

The grandmothers rise like the trees

at the end of The Lord of the Rings. The last force,

called to battle. And they come. They come ripping their roots from solid earth and moving

slowly, but they move.

And they change—everything. Their roots upend the known world.

 

I need the grandmothers to re-m ember my rage.

 

The poet Muriel Rukeyser wrote,

“When one woman tells the truth about her life, the world will be split open.”

She wrote that mid-century America and here we are– with one woman, telling.

And as the world splits, there is another, and another and another. Women fall from this cornucopia

of truth, and the grandmothers surround them. This, they say, is why we came,

why we walk, and we march, with the pussy hats and the protest signs:

We re-member. We never forgot.

This is our lineage of resistance, and the world splits open.

We are telling: in whispers, and in shouts, on paper and keyboards and into microphones.

#MeToo#MeToo#MeToo

We are the news we’ve been waiting for. We are the song, the swarm, the force.

It’s not “good news”, but necessary news– we-remember.

Our roots free, we are no longer just walking, or marching.

For we re-member –our rage.

Cross stitch. Double knot.

We re-member us.

 

Gloria Steinem said to speak, even if your voice shakes.

We are now more afraid of the silence, than we are of speaking out.

#MeToo

Can you hear it? The trees are moving.

 

If you are someone who needs to be afraid of the trees, of the truth,

of the #MeToo directed at you… now is your time

to get out of our way.

 

For we re-member.

 

Marie Cartier

September 26, 2018

On the eve of Dr. Christine Blasey Ford’s testimony to the Senate Judiciary Committee in opposition to the  nomination of Brett Kavanaugh to the Supreme Court due to sexual assault allegations.

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Categories: Justice, Poetry, power, Women's Voices

Tags: , ,

37 replies

  1. Reblogged this on silverapplequeen and commented:
    We re-member.

    Like

  2. Lovely…… Thumbs up 👍!!!

    Like

  3. We do indeed needs grandmothers, aunts, mothers, cousins, friends, poets, and even enemies to help us remember the unrememberable and to speak it aloud.

    Brava!

    Like

  4. We who “told” 60,70 years ago were believed by some. But there were no resources, no one I told knew what to do, girls like me lived in shamed silence. Now, I stand with the newest pioneers of justice, of strength. Supporting and uplifted. We are at a new point in relationships. Trump and his cronies show us a most disgusting example, but…without them would we be as vocal, as active, as strong as we are today. Yes, even a cockroach can be useful. It says that it is time to rebuild, to restore. And we will do it together.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Love this Marie!

    Like

  6. Unbelievably powerful post – and yes, I think the trees are moving. I am spitting with rage over this latest woman hating culture who is once again leaning towards their Patriarchal man’s innocence. I am taking it personally – very personally as just one of the millions (billions?) of women whose sexual assaults changed their lives – and even if a woman spoke up – which most of us didn’t – our “testimony” was never enough.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Marie, I put this incredible poem with credit to you on my FB timeline… would like to add the photo of the tree – will you tell me about this image and let me know how to copy it? It speaks to the poem in such a heartrending way. Thanks

    Women and trees have been associated since the dawn of humankind – when they start moving the world will.

    Like

  8. Reblogged this on Over The Edge and Beyond: Journal of a Naturalist and commented:
    When the trees start moving all women have to do is follow…

    Like

  9. Thanks, Marie. This is the post we needed on the day after Dr. Christine Blasey Ford’s testimony and Brett Kavanaugh’s arrogant response.

    Like

  10. Thank you for speaking my pain, my rage. As a second wave feminist I wonder how far we have come. The #MeToo movement gives me hope, then I watch Dr. Ford’s testimony being totally dismissed and I rage. I also feel a deep sorrow and fear that Trumpism is winning. Yesterday Kavanaugh was parroting Trump and was applauded. I keep waiting for a tipping point and it doesn’t seem to appear. I now pray that Nov. 6th will be a victory against his hate and misogyny.

    Like

  11. On this day, I re-member, I re-member everything from my past 60 years, not just the injustices and patriarchy-created humiliations and feeling that nothing will ever change, but also the moments of solidarity and truth and hope and rage and determination with people of all genders. What a wonderful poem – just want I needed today. May we all re-member together.

    Like

  12. Powerful!!! Thank you. Reblogging and posting everywhere I can.

    Like

  13. wouhhhhhh
    its a beautiful poem that i haven’t ever reading
    its very inspiring me
    thanks marie

    Like

  14. Beautiful. Woven powerfully and deftly. Amen.

    Like

Trackbacks

  1. Women are Raging! | Judith Shaw - Life on the Edge

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