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.
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.
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.
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.