The Purpose of Women by Beth Bartlett

Thomas Aquinas, Wikimedia Commons

12th century theologian Thomas Aquinas didn’t think much of women.  He’d known less than a handful during his lifetime – his mother, who sent him off to a Benedictine monastery when he was five, as was the custom at the time, and later abducted and imprisoned him, with the help of her other sons, seeking to “rescue” him from his choice of becoming a Dominican priest; his two sisters who were sent to him while imprisoned to dissuade him from his choice; and the prostitute his brothers sent into his prison cell to try to tempt him to sin and break his vows – unsuccessfully. So perhaps it is no wonder that Question 92 of his Summa Theologica asks, “Should woman have been made in the original creation?” Though more likely his question was prompted by the milieu of misogyny in which he was raised and lived, having been educated in the theological tradition of Augustine who believed women to be the “lesser” sex and necessarily subject to men, and highly schooled in and known for reviving the thought of Aristotle, who said of women, “a woman is a misbegotten man.”[i]

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Daughters of Witches By Julia Park Tracey

“We are the daughters of the witches you couldn’t burn.”

That’s a popular meme going around the internet these days, as we await the joyful coming of our savior, Kamala Harris, or the End Times, with the Mango Mussolini. I say that only slightly in jest, because I do believe we are in a fraught time. A woman president could set us up for incredible progressive movement, while a Trump/Vance win could mark the beginning of the end of women’s rights altogether.

There’s no way not to be political in an essay about feminism and religion, so if the current election is not of interest to you, I say, enjoy your privileges while you can and I hope the leopards don’t eat your face, as another meme goes. Regardless, the bodies of witches and the bodies of all our women, young and old, are still interconnected, both by virtue of our gender and of our position as political pawns (again? still? It is to weep).

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By Song, All Was Created by Janet Maika’i Rudolph

This blogpost is part of an on-going collaborative project between myself and my dear friend Ecuadorian elder and medicine woman, Susana Tapia Leon. The purpose of the project is to illuminate in word and images the underlying pagan meanings of biblical verses. There are many rich verses that got hidden within translations. This has had the effect of erasing their original meanings or at least making them very difficult to uncover. I have come to call these hidden gems because they were not erased completely. In this post, I am offering alternative translations of 3 verses that focus on song.  

Susana Tapia Léon, Cantadora 1
“She came alive after a month of work
She was always inside waiting to be revealed.”
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The Awakened Woman: Remembering and Reigniting Our Sacred Dreams by Woman Writer Dr. Tererai Trent by Maria Dintino

Moderator’s Note: This piece is in co-operation with The Nasty Women Writers Project, a site dedicated to highlighting and amplifying the voices and visions of powerful women. The site was founded by sisters Theresa and Maria Dintino. To quote Theresa, “by doing this work we are expanding our own writer’s web for nourishment and support.” This was originally posted on their site on January 14, 2020. You can see more of their posts here. 

Breaking the Bronze Ceiling – Statues of Real Women in Public Spaces

I cannot imagine a woman more deserving than Dr. Tererai Trent, her likeness one of ten life-size bronze statues unveiled in New York City on Women’s Equality Day on August 26, 2019.

Australian global public artists and activists, Gillie and Marc Schattner, revealed the statues of these inspirational women on 6th Avenue (Avenue of the Americas) that glorious summer day! Their organization, Statues for Equality, is on a mission to achieve gender balance in public statues worldwide. In NYC prior to their unveiling, only 3% of the statues depicted females; this climbed to 10% on August 26.

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Sing Anyway by Dr. Jamie Marich

I often find myself sitting in conservative Catholic spaces. My brother is a Roman Catholic priest in the Dominican order and I remain in support of his vocation. Every time, before a Mass officially starts, I’m overcome with a sense of: “You belong here…and you don’t.”

The part of me that has always felt at home in a Catholic setting is that love of the ritual and ceremony, the smell of the incense, the familiarity of the chants and songs. It was a Catholic priest, the late Fr. Ciaran O’Donnell, who taught me how to play the guitar and got me started with the healing practice of songwriting. When I sink into these associations, I feel connected to my Croatian ancestors and our Catholic faith. And there’s the other part of me—the queer feminist and an advocate for other queer and transgender people to live the fullest, most open expressions of themselves in all spaces of life, especially faith-based spaces. As a survivor of several forms of sexual assault and as a trauma specialist who has guided countless other survivors in their healing process over the years, I can’t sit in a Catholic Church and not feel uneasy about the legacy of abuse and silencing survivors within the church. Between my queer identity and dedication to supporting survivors, I feel that I don’t belong.

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Dear Mr. Vance, Love, A Childless Cat Lady

I am a writer, one who sometimes touches on personal issues. But this is the first time I elaborate on why I don’t have children, no doubt, provoked by your “childless cat lady” jibe. 

I am childless or childfree; to me, it is a matter of semantics. I have two cats whom I consider my children. In many ways, I am like most Americans; I love my job, I love my students, I love my colleagues. 

And I love my cats.

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She in Archetypes, Images, Energy… Emerging by Dale Allen

If it weren’t for my mother, I wouldn’t have gone to church on Saturday evening at 5pm.  It was a special trip made by me, my daughter and my 89-year-old mother who is visiting here in Connecticut from Ohio.  We are met at Holy Name of Jesus Church in Stamford, CT by one of my aunts, some cousins, one of my sisters, a brother-in-law, nieces and nephews – part of our big family.

Holy Name of Jesus Church is in walking distance from the house where my mother grew up: the house where her Polish-immigrant parents raised 8 children. My mother and her siblings attended Holy Name of Jesus Catholic School next to the church from 1st through 9th grade. The school is still there and now houses a daycare and learning center.

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And Then Everything Changed: Part Two: Joy by Beth Bartlett

(part one was posted yesterday)

Author’s Note: I wrote this post shortly after Pres. Biden stepped down as the Democratic candidate for the presidency and endorsed Kamala Harris, long before the Kamala-Harris ticket adopted “joy” as their watchword. The reference to the “joy” of this campaign has now become so ubiquitous that I fear it will become trivialized and merely a slogan. I hope instead that they meaningfully embrace a politics of joy and the capacity of joy to heal divides, not just in this country, but throughout the world. 

* * *

. . . and then everything changed. 

What is this feeling that has been filling me of late? Ah, yes, I remember — hope, enthusiasm, excitement, optimism!  It’s been so long since I’ve felt this — on the political scene, for our country, for the world. But lately I’ve felt buoyant – something I haven’t felt at least since 2016. Rather than avoiding the news, now I am eager for it, seek it out. 

The energy, vitality, and yes, laughter that Kamala Harris has brought to the presidential campaign has infused myself and many others I know with a sense of joy, a welcome contrast from the doom and gloom that has been surrounding the campaign for so long. Her ability to laugh, to smile, to find the positives in people, in life, that has brought new life to this campaign. Yet for some reason, the opposing side has chosen to focus on Harris’s easy laughter as a target for derision. 

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I Am an American, Too by Marie Cartier

I am an American.
I am proud to be an American.
I am not proud of everything America does—
But I am proud of democracy—
of the idea of democracy.
And I do not want to waste my shot, either.

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A Healing Shrine by Joyce Zonana

From October 5, 2023. Joyce posted the blogpost which she titled: Nineteen months and Counting: Experiencing  the Web of Life

On February 28, 2022, I unknowingly drove into a deep snowbank, shortly after finding myself in  a strangely  unfamiliar landscape. Suspecting a TIA, my primary care physician  urged me to go to an emergency room for a possible CAT scan. There, a lesion in my right parietal lobe was quickly discovered.

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