Want to learn more about winter holidays? Check out these web sites and get educated.
Aish HaTorah - Chanukah Site
This is a great site for anyone who doesn’t know much about Chanukah but is eager to learn. There is an explanation of the holiday and what the candles mean, easy-to-follow instructions for lighting the Menorah, collections of Chanukah songs and recipes, as well as many other informational and entertaining subjects.
History of Kwanzaa
http://www.cnn.com/EVENTS/1996/kwanzaa/history.html
This site has a brief but informative description and history of Kwanzaa. I recommend doing a web search for more information on this holiday, but this site is adequate for anyone who knows nothing about this holiday and wants to learn the basics.
Christmas Around the World
http://newtimes.rway.com/1998/lights98/world.shtml
Christmas is not just an American holiday, and this site gives a nice overview of how other countries celebrate Christmas. The information is fairly general but serves a good introduction.
Keeping informed about birth control choices is important. Here are some useful web sites about contraception.
birthcontrol.com featuring family planning choices from around the world
This site is both educational and commercial, with information on various types of birth control such as the Pantycondom and the Unisex condom (and many other products), as well as a way to purchase these products. One of the site owner’s goals is to provide a means for women around the world to purchase birth control that they might not otherwise be able to find in their area.
Birth Control - Encarta Online
http://encarta.msn.com/find/Concise.asp?ti=00D88000
The Encarta Online is a web encyclopedia, and has information about common forms of birth control, such as the birth control pill and Norplant. Besides having definitions of these different types of contraception, this resource includes a history of birth control and a brief biography of Margaret Sanger. There is also a section filled with current news stories regarding contraception and population issues from around the world.
A Mother’s Touch
Hands
I remember my mother
sewing a doll for me
when we were young. The doll has glass
starburst eyes and sits on my dresser
now. If she ever had a name, I do not know
what it is. I remember my mother's hands—her long fingers reaching out—
for bobbin thread and batting
and I remember a glass rabbit
full of small glass beads—red, blue,
clear. Tiny, all hole, really—
the space, and the shape
that surrounds it.
And I remember her
woodblock set: Curved
and pointing tools, linoleum
blocks, tubes of paint, rollers. We made
prints together. I imagine
her guiding my hands, careful
not to let the sharp tools
slip. Carving the space,
and the shape around it.
I have a print
my mother made in art school: The Enigma
Manifests Itself One Day
In Ashtabula. I know the story—how she awoke
driving down the meridian, hands slipping
from the wheel, then gripping, then
swerving. When I drove through Ashtabula
two summers ago, I held on
tight. Many works of art
came from my mother's hands.
One is a prize_winning tile sculpture
she named Hymn to Demeter. Shape
and space.
Mom sometimes had to change
into her uniform while
driving to the hospital.
(The white stockings
must've been the most dangerous
part.) I remember putting on
her hard white nurse's hat
plugging the stethoscope into
my ears and tap_tapping
with my finger, holding it
to my own chest and listening.
It is my mother's hands
I visualized
when I had an abortion
five thousand miles
away from her. I never told her
and I wonder if she knows.
I imagine her holding
the hands of young women
after their procedures
at the clinic. She wears a beeper
so she can respond to emergencies—
bleeding, panic, fear.
Of course I know my mother's hands; she taught me
how to dance in the grange, the church, the barn,
the field. Waltz, polka, schottische, contra, circle. Always
women danced together, holding hands.
Like Demeter and Persephone,
we still dance, hands
entwined, looped together, spinning
‘round. We dance celebration;
we dance loss. We dance
the shape, and the space
around it. Our hands know
the darkness of give and take.
The mourning
of lost ones, the gathering in,
the going under.
Years ago,
I wrapped my hands around
my mother's throat and
squeezed. I clawed. I shredded. I tore, trying
to find my power without
losing her. I lost us both
for a long long time. I am so
sorry. It took even longer to pull back together
what I ripped apart. I went to an island
far away. When I came home
after three years, we circled
‘round each other. Then we
began, once again, to hold
hands. Through all this we weave
our fingers, and the lines on our
palms deepen each year. My mother
and I dance the circle dance,
hands touching,
not touching,
touching again.
Now
I am only
just beginning
to learn about this. What it is
to be a shape,
what it is to be
a force that shapes, what it is
to be the space
around a shape. In other words,
what it means
to be a hand, fingers spread, reaching out
and touching
another hand.
Sarah Schneider
Kuwait Rejects Women's Rights
For the second time Kuwait's parliament has rejected a measure that would have granted women the right to vote and run for office. Today, a 32_30 vote to reject a bill granting women's political rights follows a November 23 vote that repudiated a similar decree from the emir, Sheik Jaber Al Ahmed Al Sabah.
Some moderate Parliament members will vote for today's measure after voting down the emir's decree in protest and believed there was a chance that the bill would pass. Today's vote, which was met with cheers by Kuwaiti men, failed due to opposition from Muslim fundamentalist lawmakers, who form a substantial faction.
In Kuwait only 10% of all citizens are eligible to vote – adult males who have been naturalized for 30 years or more or have resided in Kuwait since before 1920 and their male descendants at age 21. No immigrants are allowed to vote.
[Source: AP _ November 30, 1999]
France Permits Morning_After Pill in Schools
The French government has granted school nurses the ability to prescribe the morning_after pill, which prevents a fertilized egg from implanting in the womb. Deputy Education Minister Segolene Royal said on Friday, "Today in France there is a great problem of distress among adolescents, especially in cases of unwanted pregnancies..." Royal also indicated that the pill would be accompanied with dialogue and consultation with a doctor. The French Movement for Family Planning, who had campaigned for the morning_after pill to be introduced in schools since June, expressed satisfaction with the decision. The morning_after pill became available without a prescription in France in June.
[Source: Nando Times _ November 29, 1999]
Prosecutor to Seek Death Penalty for Murder of Gay Couple
McGregor Scott, District Attorney for California's Shasta County, has announced his intention to seek the death penalty for two brothers accused of murdering a gay couple. Scott explained his decision, commenting that a "significant amount of planning" preceded the two murders. Brothers Benjamin Matthew Williams, 31, and James Tyler Williams, 29, are accused of plotting the murder of Gary Matson and Winfield Mowder out of hatred for their sexual orientation. Benjamin Williams admitted to shooting the men but alleges that he is "not guilty of murder" but guilty of "obeying the laws of the Creator." He claims that his younger brother was not present at the time of the murders.
Matson, 50, and Mowder, 40 were robbed and then shot to death in their home on July 1st.
[Source: AP _ November 23, 1999]
[Source: AP _ November 24, 1999]
Senate Endorses Moseley_Braun
In a vote of 17_1 on Monday, the Senate Foreign Relations Committee overwhelmingly approved the
nomination of former Senator Carol Moseley_Braun as the U.S. ambassador to New Zealand. The committee's endorsement clears the way for a confirmation by the full Senate this week, possibly as early as Tuesday. Committee Chairman Jesse Helms (R_NC), who had delayed Moseley_Braun's nomination hearing, claiming that she was under an "ethical cloud," was the only dissenting vote. Moseley_Braun refuted allegations of ethical misconduct in a congenial hearing on Friday, which Helms did not attend.
Carol Moseley_Braun had opposed Helms in 1993 over the design patent of the United Daughters of
Confederacy, which includes the Confederate Flag. Moseley_Braun was the first African_American woman to
serve in the Senate.
[Source: Nando Times and Reuters _ November 9, 1999]
Taliban Threatens the United States
Afghanistan's ruling Taliban army issued Tuesday unspecified threats against the United States if economic sanctions are imposed for its refusal to hand over suspected terrorist Osama bin Laden. Osama bin Laden is on the FBI's 10 Most Wanted List for allegedly masterminding attacks on two U.S. embassies in East Africa. Mullah Mohammed Omar, the Taliban's ruling leader, warned in a letter of "surprises" if the UN sanctions were carried out, attacking the U.S. for rejecting Taliban bids of arbitration on the issue of bin Laden. Omar directed his remarks at U.S. citizens, urging them to intercede with the U.S. government to stop the economic sanctions. "If you do not take a step in this direction then you will be surprised about what is coming to you and you will not be able to do anything about it," warned Omar in the letter. These statements mark the Taliban's first threat against America since they came to power in 1996.
Neither the United States nor the United Nations has recognized the Taliban regime as the legitimate government of Afghanistan. The Taliban militia has imposed a strict system of gender apartheid against all women living in areas controlled by the Taliban. The Taliban's edicts, which have been brutally enforced, banished most women from the work force, closed schools to girls and expelled women from universities, and prohibited women from leaving their homes unless accompanied by a close male relative.
[Source: AP and Feminist Majority Foundation _ November 8, 1999]
Texas Baptists May Reject Women's Submission Amendment
A delegate at The Baptist General Convention of Texas introduced a motion rejecting the Southern Baptist Convention's pronouncement that women should submit to their husbands. Pastor Robert Newell of Houston proposed the measure, which the 2,200 representatives attending the annual meeting in El Paso will vote on Tuesday morning. If the motion passes with a simple majority it would reject the denomination's declaration of beliefs that was created during the Southern Baptist Convention in Salt Lake City last year. The pronouncement stated that wives should submit to their husbands and defined marriage strictly in terms of heterosexuality. "That amendment, though it spoke about family and had some decent things in it, also had in it some barbs that were intended to hammer women about subservience, in my judgment," said Rev. Clyde Glazener, president of the Texas organization, who led opposition to the amendment.
The Baptist General Convention of Texas, the largest state organization affiliated with the national Southern
Baptist Convention, has been distancing itself from the more conservative national group.
[Source: Nando Times _ November 9, 1999]
September 19, 1999
Dear Lee,
It is Sunday morning and I sit at my desk writing, reading poetry, looking up words, thinking about bodies and emotions and minds and how much time I have . . . John Coltrane serenades me softly . . . I could be anywhere. But then I look up from my paper, my thoughts, through the open window to see an old woman walking, back bent in an eternal bow, dressed, head and body, in loose dark cloth, pushing a baby carriage with no baby, but maybe vegetables, taking small steps, legs bowed from a lifetime of kneeling–and then, then I remember I am in Japan.
Shariki is a farming village of about 6,000 people. Melons and rice are the main crops. Many of the old women, and men, are bent over from working the earth for a living. The rice fields are changing from brilliant green to yellow with the cooling of the season. They have begun to harvest.
I wish to draw the onsen in charcoal on a heavy, textured paper. The onsen is the natural hot spring here in the village. Unfortunately, my imagination and desire outweigh my skill. The onsen’s ceiling is made with narrow lengths of stained glass and wood that meet in a point high, like a castle. The women’s and men’s baths are separate. The floor is tiled, and along the walls are faucets. Side by side on green plastic stools with our basins in front of us, we wash. We wash the sweat, the dirt, the day from ourselves. The woman whom I recognize only vaguely comes to me, takes my sponge and washes my back. She can reach where I cannot. The other women talk, laugh, and rub each other’s shoulders. I sit quiet, enjoying my silence–thin noise.
After I wash I go to where, above a floor made of stone, a single stream of water falls hard, massaging muscles tense from trying to understand a language that stumbles from my tongue and confounds me continually.
I ease into the hot, bubbling water-oasis with these women, where the ritual of washing one’s body is old and understood outside of the confines of spoken language–here where we read each other’s lives written between wrinkles and sagging breasts–in an ink of scars–caesarean births and burns, bruises and eyes shining, mouths lit with laughter.
The kids that I teach, however infrequently, give me a raison d’etre. They fill up the ancient junior high school building, and repair the cracks and peeling paint with their laughter. The boys see me and shout, "Hello, hello. How are you?" The girls see me and shrink into their shyness, hiding their mouths behind their hands. In twos, holding hands they come to me quietly after class and ask, do I like cats? And do I have a boyfriend? Shariki has not had a woman English teacher in five years.
I have two Japanese teachers of English, with whom I teach. Demanchi-sensei is a thin, timid, mouse of a man with the pallor of cigarette smoke. I think he is not much older than I–he just looks it. When I see a Japanese man who does not smoke cigarettes with brand names like "Peace" and "Hope" I am surprised. Although Demachi-sensei acts a bit frightened of me, I like him and respect his teaching.
Umetsu-sensei is defensive towards me. His desk is next to mine–and when I arrive in the morning he will not speak to me, even in greeting, unless I speak first. The first time I taught with him he played on the students’ questions of if I was married, and proceeded to flirt with me throughout the class–asking me to guess his age–and what did I think of short men–and of him, and Demanchi-sensei, who spoke better English? And then after class he returned immediately to not speaking to me. In this country, where humility is a thread woven right into the fabric of the culture, this man has a veil of ego so heavy he cannot see through it. I have spent time letting things wash over me in an effort to not hit rocks in this darkness I sail through–to not sink my boat. Every day dawn comes closer, shedding more and more light, and I prepare to do the washing.
Maybe even worse off than a functional illiterate, I am also mute. The barrier of language is made of barbed wire. Communicating through ‘speaking’ a language is so easy. There is no need even to really look at the person behind the counter, or pumping your gas, or serving your food. But using your body–face, arms, fingers, intuition–to communicate, searching your brain, and their eyes, for understanding when that connection does come, it is the wing of a dragonfly, translucent, severed and perfect, found on a dirty, carpeted floor.
Patience is my greatest lesson. But sometimes emotion rises within me stronger than I have known. I am not afraid of my tears. I understand that my weeping is as much a part of this as my wonder.
I think of you often, Lee. And although we speak in words we each understand, I look forward to sharing with you again the spaces between the words.
With Love,
Juliette
Juliette Guilmette is a graduate of UMF and an early contributor to Fifty-One %
by Monique Barrett
I hear your remarks and I feel your disdain
But inside you’re the one who fosters the pain
I taste you bitterness and I smell your fear
But as you offend can you feel your heart tear?
I see your face overwhelmed with insecurity
Is this really the person that you want to be?
I taste the salt in the tears that you hide
And I feel all the shit that you go through inside
I hear the uncertainty after you speak
And I smell your false power ‘cause truly you’re weak.
I see your face overwhelmed with insecurity
Is this really the person that you want to be?
And who can you blame for the actions you take?
The choices you make?
The hearts that you break?
I see your face overwhelmed with insecurity
Is this really the person that you want to be?
‘No Excuses’ Concert Benefits SAVES
by K. the NewsGrrl
On November 29 in Lincoln Auditorium, performers Anni Clark and Ball in the House participated in a concert to benefit SAVES (Sexual Assault Victims Emergency Services), Franklin County’s rape crisis center. The concert was entitled "No Excuses: A Benefit to End Violence Against Women," and was organized by Lee Sharkey’s Introduction to Women’s Studies class as ‘an act to change the world.’ Among the students most active in organizing this event were Jackie Lesh, who was the primary coordinator, Karina Magee, who emceed the event, Monique Barrett, Erin Clark, and Jessica St. Clair. Sharon Parker, president of the Feminist Majority Leadership Alliance, helped raise money for the event and served as an advisor to the class.
People started piling into the Learning Center shortly before 7:00pm, when the concert was scheduled to begin. While mingling and looking for good seats, some people took the time to visit and make a donation at the SAVES table, set up with free information about services, internship information, and lots of bumper stickers and pins for sale.
Ball in the House kicked off the night with its astounding talent for singing a capella. Six guys from Boston, they are funny, dynamic and apparently quite popular – as well as being loved by their present audience, they had gone on tour with pop stars 98 Degrees. After Ball in the House’s performance, there was a raffle for which many great prizes were donated by local businesses. Following this, three speakers discussed issues of violence against women. Ben Zieman of AWAP (Abused Women’s Advocacy Project) spoke about there truly being no excuse to perpetrate domestic violence. He emphasized how important it is for people to get involved in helping the fight against it. Janine Winn, the executive director of SAVES, thanked everyone present for helping make this event possible, and informed that the proceeds from the concert would help fund a project to coordinate victim services and law enforcement in Franklin County. She stressed that the Farmington community is striving to be one that does not tolerate violence of any sort. Jeb Enoch from SAVES also spoke about the group he has recently put together called Mainely Men Against Violence and Sexism. Sexism can no longer be regarded as a "women’s issue" but is a human issue, he said, directing his words particularly to the men in the audience. And then Anni Clark performed. She also was very funny, and her songs were soulful, honest, and engaging. Her performance was a wonderful ending to a wonderful night.
As a part-time employee of SAVES and a community member, I would like to extend my gratitude to everyone who helped make this concert a positive and memorable event, and to especially thank the WST 101 class who took the initiative to make a change for the better in our world.
The FMLA would like to thank the Table Gaming Club for their contribution to this event.
FMLA and the Referendum
by Sharon Parker
Because the FMLA is a pro-choice organization, we were concerned about November’s referendum to ban "partial birth" abortion. However, we were in a bit of a dilemma because we, being a UMF organization, were not allowed to participate in the referendum. It seems that the UMF Student Senate’s constitution prohibits UMF organizations from working on political campaigns to influence legislation. Therefore, the FMLA was not allowed to take a stance on the issue without risking losing our standing as a UMF club. We were allowed to educate the campus on the issues surrounding the referendum, so we put up a bulletin board covered with current reproductive legislation in the state of Maine, a copy of the proposed legislation, and directions to the polls, hoping that people would read the information and make up their own minds based on the facts. It was nice of one of the writers for the Mainestream to try and give us credit for Farmington’s resounding NO vote, but we cannot take the credit.
The organization that worked hard to defeat the referendum formed independently of any other group on campus, and named itself Students for Choice. They gathered up information from different sources around the state about "partial birth" abortion and current Maine laws, as well as instructions on how to register to vote and directions to the polls, and put it out at a table in the Student Center. Someone was always sitting at the table, ready to answer any questions that she or he could about the referendum. Students for Choice organized a rally the night before the vote and passed out literature stating the facts surrounding the proposed "partial birth" abortion ban and reminders that all UMF students could vote in Farmington. The membership of Students for Choice and the FMLA did overlap, but I am surprised that someone could make the mistake of who it was out there each day at the table, since they had a large sign posted up at all times saying "Students for Choice."
Now that the vote is over, I just want to say that I am very impressed with the students who organized and worked so hard around defeating the referendum. They showed initiative and imagination and energy in their efforts. Without their hard work, this referendum would not have been defeated by such a comfortable margin. As for those folks who are now complaining that the "partial birth" abortion ban was voted down, I have only one comment. They had the same opportunities as Students for Choice, and I never saw anyone in the Student Center educating students on why they should vote yes to ban "partial birth" abortion. Other than a few dubious articles in the school paper, there was no effort on the part of the supporters of the ban to influence the vote. When looking for someone to blame for the defeat of the referendum, our anti-choice students should look no further than themselves.
by Leslie Bullock
Chocolate fudge. It’s been a part of my life for as far back as I can remember. I’m not talking about just any old kind of chocolate fudge, I’m talking about the kind my mother would make for Thanksgiving. The recipe isn’t an old family secret. You can find it on the back of any Marshmallow Fluff jar -- white and blue label, red cover, F-l-u-f-f. NEVER FAIL FUDGE; it’s a tradition in my family. Thanksgiving isn’t Thanksgiving without it.
I have many memories surrounding this fudge. The earliest ones bring me back to a time when I was a very young girl. I was too small to even look into the pan of fudge on the stove, but I could smell it cooking at the other end of the house. I would peek around the corner of the refrigerator with a big smile and say "What’re you cooking, Mom?" I knew what she was cooking, I just wanted to let her know that I was there and expected the spoon when she was done. My Mom would dip an extra one in so my brother and I could each have one.
Timing was important with this fudge. If you followed the instructions you truly couldn’t fail, but you had to move quickly once things started boiling. Waiting for that moment seemed to take forever. I can see my Mom standing in front of the polished white stove, barefooted and wearing her flowered house dress with a paper-towel in the pocket. Her right arm would stir the fudge and the muscles would tighten each time she made a swipe. After the fudge boiled for five minutes it was time to get it into the baking pans she had prepared with buttered sides. My brother and I would back up because she needed room to move around and she had to do it quickly – if it wasn’t turned into the pans quick enough it would come out in a big clump. You could press it into the pans with your palms if that happened, but then the top wouldn’t be shiny. Once the fudge was in the pans my mother would hold them about two feet off the floor and let them drop to the ground, one at a time, in order to force the batter into the four corners of the pan. My brother and I would close our eyes and wait for the loud bang. We would always jump even though we were expecting it. The fudge was left on the counter to cool.
My mother doesn’t remember when she started making fudge. She never had very good luck with other recipes; they’d always turn out too hard or too soft. That was how she began the practice of wrapping each piece individually. When it came out too soft she would wrap it in waxed paper so it wouldn’t stick to the other pieces or dry out while it was on the table. I’ve never seen this done by anyone else. She cuts the fudge into small, one inch pieces. Then she cuts pieces of wax paper big enough to wrap each individual piece. The fudge is placed in the middle of the paper, then the sides are brought to the middle and folded over two or three times. The edges are folded down at an angle and then tucked under into a nice, neat little package. Sometimes we’d have two bowls of fudge; one with walnuts and one without.
My older sister Linda went off to college when I was in fourth grade, so I had a number of fudge wrapping years with my mother all to myself. I learned how to wrap fudge and I learned how to wrap Christmas presents. I came to understand that the two weren’t really that different when you take away the scotch tape and the bows. I also came to understand that although every new holiday brought chocolate fudge, it also brought change.
My Mom asked me to play hostess the year that my sister brought her future husband home to meet the family. I was twelve and in charge of making sure that everyone got their fair share of fudge. I carefully studied Gordy and decided my sister was about to marry a complete square. I would have preferred that she marry someone with longer hair, or who sang in a rock band. Forget about the fact that he had impeccable manners and came from a wealthy family on Cape Cod that owned a shipbuilding company. I wanted her to marry someone I, as a twelve year old, could relate to.
It was jut a few years after that Thanksgiving that I remember taking pictures of my sister, brother and law, and my new niece, wrapped in a yellow snow suit, in an infant seat my sister carried. They lived in Massachusetts and Wendy had cried non-stop all the way to Connecticut. Their nerves were frazzled and we were thrilled. There was a lot of fudge left over that year -- we were all too mesmerized with the new family member to pay much attention to gorging ourselves.
A few years later, my younger brother was diagnosed with diabetes at age thirteen. It was a rough year on my family. My dad took it pretty hard, my mom was working with my brother’s doctors to learn all the rules and regulations of having a diabetic child in the house. Chocolate fudge was now a no-no for Warren, but my Mom made it for Thanksgiving anyway. She didn’t want the rest of us to do without. I was sixteen that year. I remember returning to my father again and again to offer him more fudge, as though it were a remedy for heartache.
Years went by and Thanksgivings came and went. I got quicker at wrapping fudge. I moved out of the house and at age twenty-three got married. Mark and I went back to my parents’ house to celebrate the holidays. My Mom would always have fudge ready when we got there for Thanksgiving. It was a welcome sight that I was anxious to share with my new partner.
On Thanksgiving, 1982, my father’s dad was living with my parents. His health had deteriorated and he was in a wheelchair. I was passing out fudge in the livingroom when he motioned me over – he wanted a piece without nuts, which he unwrapped with shaky hands. Then, he reached into his pocket and handed me a 1900 silver dollar. He wanted me to have it. My grandmother had always given me little trinkets, but this was the first time he had given me anything like this. I still keep it in my jewelry box, inside its own little velvet box with a light green piece of paper tucked inside, the date he gave it to me written on it.
Grampy’s health continued to decline for years afterward. That was the last time I remember having any kind of a meaningful conversation with him.
Mark and I moved to upstate New York and bought a general store. We didn’t return to Connecticut for three years straight. Being self employed demanded many hours from us and holidays were always busy. The next time we made it home for Thanksgiving was on our way to Maine to open a video store. Mom and Dad helped us make the move. Four years later, Mark and I had three sons and four video stores. We decided it was time to let the employees run the stores during the holidays while we went to Connecticut for Thanksgiving. My Dad was excited. He had tickets to take Mark and the two oldest boys to the WWF wrestling matches at the Hartford Civic Center on Thanksgiving night, and Mom was really excited to have us there for the long holiday weekend.
Five of us made the trip down together. Only four of us came back up. Mark had a heart attack. He died the Friday after Thanksgiving. I remember sitting at the kitchen table with family and friends the following day. There was a basket of fudge nestled in amongst the leftovers, but I couldn’t touch one piece. At the age of thirty-three, in just a few hours, my life had taken a dramatic change of course.
The next year I told my family that I wasn’t up to going down to my parent’s house, but I had second thoughts and made a surprise trip. They were all sitting at the table when the boys and I popped our faces in the kitchen window and yelled "Surprise!" My two oldest sons immediately looked for Memere’s chocolate fudge and of course it was there.
A new treat was introduced a few years ago. My sister made microwave peanut-butter fudge, and she didn’t wrap it. It was against all the rules, and her kids loved it. Although I knew this might become a new tradition, I was disappointed. I longed for the stability I had taken comfort in – I needed it that year. Then three years ago we celebrated Thanksgiving at my house in Maine. Everyone came and we had eighteen for dinner. I was surprised to hear that my mother had decided not to make fudge. She said it had become a lot of work, and "none of them needed it anyway." I battled with myself all week – could I find the time to make it and wrap it before Thursday? I did, and so began a new old tradition for me. I just couldn’t let go of it that easily.
My new partner and I bought a home this year, so Thanksgiving was at our house. It was the night before, and I was getting set up to wrap fudge at my kitchen table. I got two baskets out, waxed paper, scissors and a knife. To my surprise, everyone wanted to help me wrap fudge; my boys, my partner Greg, and his Mom. Our little production line was quite the sight. We all had our jobs to do: cutting, sampling, fashioning waxed paper, wrapping and packing. We took pictures, and captured that precise moment when wrapping chocolate fudge became a tradition for another generation.
Leslie Bullocks piece has been edited for length.
Abortion Access After the Referendum
by Nancy Foss
Pro_Choice groups and individuals in Maine have much to be proud of. With the November 2nd defeat of the referendum to ban abortions, a majority of Mainers spoke up and declared that we trust Maine women with their own decisions about reproductive self_determination. This victory released a collective sigh of relief among supporters of reproductive health and rights around the whole country.
Although the pro_choice community was victorious in this most recent assault on the reproductive rights of Maine women, anti_choice advocates were successful in their efforts to dominate public discourse with a false issue that they created. Pro_choice Maine was forced to expend considerable resources to defeat the abortion ban, diverting our attention away from the very real issues related to the lack of access to abortion services in Maine.
Of the six New England states, Maine has the highest percentage of counties with no abortion provider, forcing many Maine women to drive great distances to access abortion services. And although a growing number of states are using state Medicaid funds to cover abortion services for poor women, Maine is not among them. While Maine is following the national trend towards fewer and earlier abortions, accessing abortion services in Maine past twelve weeks’ gestation is practically impossible, forcing women in need of these services to travel to Massachusetts or New York.
Now that the referendum to ban abortions has been defeated, the time has come to bring our attention back to the very real issue of inadequate access to abortion services in Maine. To this end, the Abortion Access Project and Pro_Choice Maine are working together to convene a seminar on Medical Abortion (a.k.a. RU 486/The French Abortion Pill). Our goal is to enhance access to abortion services through both the use of current technology and an expansion of the numbers and types of health care providers with training in abortion services. Pro_Choice Maine activists are also advancing efforts to expand Medicaid coverage for abortion services, a sensible endeavor that, in the eyes of many of us directly involved in abortion services in Maine, is long overdue. Other Pro_Choice Maine activities include expanding access to abortion services at regional hospitals, and holding a statewide conference next fall to explore the empowering and positive role of abortion in women’s lives.
Abortion Access: without it, you’ve got no choice. For more information on any of these projects, please contact Nancy A. Foss at 780_1874 or PO Box 6121, Falmouth ME 04105.
Nancy Foss works for the Maine Civil Liberties Union
by talia bowman
we did it. these three words kept running through my mind the day after the vote and i found myself wishing i could feel them. i woke up on wednesday morning, turned my radio on, and heard that the ban on partial_birth abortion was defeated. i just stood there and stared at the news. in a daze i began the day all the time wondering how and when this victory would affect me.
you see, i had been working closely with an awesome group of women to get the word out about the importance of the vote in maine and its impact across the country. the campus connections with umf students for choice and extended connections with organizations throughout the state (and beyond), had become a sort of family. and just like a family, we had our moments.
my feelings, then and now, regarding the referendum lay on a spectrum of intensity. deceived into thinking that this referendum was about partial_birth abortion. nervous when conversations began about the moral questionability of a woman deciding to have an abortion. encouraged when someone would approach the information table and offer support, time, and their vote. enraged when people would pass our table by, filling the air with indifference. disappointed when someone would obviously be simmering about the information we were offering and say nothing about it. exhilarated when we received money to further support our effort. and finally, hopeful that the citizens of maine used their voices to defeat the ban.
upon meeting friends, fellow organizers, and allies the day after the vote turned warm with hugs and congratulatory praises. we had all worked so hard and were successful. i am not looking for the news of the defeat to hit me anymore. i know now that the work i did and the effects of the defeated ban has already made the world a little bit better.
The Women’s Development Institute: Using Education to Further Women’s Rights
by Elizabeth Keith
The Women’s Deveopment Institute, based in Augusta, is working year round on the issues that affect women and girls in the state of Maine every day. They are committed to systematic change. For ten years they have organized, trained, and supported women to effectively participate in the policy making process. WDI has consistently backed up women’s real life experiences with research and facts, and partnered with the Maine Women’s Lobby, WDI’s founder and sister organization, to amplify women’s concerns in the legislature and develop policy solutions that address their needs. Their goal is to ensure that women and girls are not only a part of the conversation about policies which effect their lives but that they directly effect the outcomes of those policies.
Examples of WDI’s current initiatives include:
- The Women’s Leadership Project. WDI, along with M.A.I.N and the Maine Equal Justice Partners, will conduct three regional training programs which will be offered to eighteen low-income women. The training will teach participants the skills they need to shape the policies that directly affect their lives. The Women’s Leadership Project is not just about women being involved, it’s about women taking the lead;
- Pay Equity. By the end of the year 2000, WDI will initiate a comprehensive campaign to step up implementation of Maine’s equal pay law. The issue of equal pay has risen to the top of everyone’s agenda nationally. Maine’s efforts will have national implications;
- Women’s Health Equity Campaign (WHEC). WDI will maintain a leadership role in implementing the action plan for WHEC. WDI partnered with WHEC to produce the much-needed study Women’s Health: A Maine Profile, which identifies the key health care concerns among women.
- Outreach to Survivors of Sexual Assault and Domestic Violence. Beginning in January 2000, WDI will ensure that survivors of sexual assault, domestic violence and stalking are involved in all Department of Labor public hearings on implementing an Act to Protect Victims of Crime in the Workplace, which helps provide economic security for women trying to recover from violent crimes.
- Girls’ Day at the State House. In March 2000, WDI will organize the fourth annual Girls’ Day at the State House for a minimum of sixty girls. Prior to the event they will do extensive outreach to schools and agencies that serve at-risk girls to ensure that twenty girls from that population participate.
While their constituency is all Maine women and girls, the WDI especially seeks to serve those who are under represented in the formation of public policy, particularly low income and rural women. They work to ensure that these women are informing and driving policy decisions. WDI is a statewide organization and has a significant and growing presence in rural and remote areas of the state. Maine is geographically expansive but also varies widely in terms of class, with the rural areas often suffering both economic and political disenfranchisement. They are committed to being inclusive and representative of the range of voices that exists within the state.
Elizabeth Keith is an employee of the Women’s Development Institute
It would be a mistake to think that the political issues end when something like the November referendum ends. When the battle is not being spotlighted in the mainstream, we tend to forget that it is still being fought. Winning the November referendum was an great success for women’s rights. Our side was short on resources, and faced overwhelming opposition. The other side had media support, an endless supply of money and major institutions like the Catholic Church backing them. But we won. This was more than just a victory for abortion rights, it was a victory for the principle that people demand clear legislation, and honesty. Feminists did nothing more than present the truth, clarify the facts, and that was enough. We have much so much to celebrate, but cannot think that the fight is over
Keep your eyes open. Maine is full of feminists, and feminist organizations that fight all of the time to protect the right that we win in elections like November’s. Our freedom is being challenged in subtle and not so subtle ways. Now that Maine has proven what it can do in a time of crisis, a part of that energy needs to go to keeping those kinds of things from happening again.
Birth Control–and you thought you knew it all!
I sat researching birth control on the Internet, expecting to see the same-old-same-old. You know: the pill, the sponge, foam, condoms, film, that really unsuccessful female condom; what more could there be? Haven’t we reached the top as far as inventive birth control goes? I thought so, but evidently the world has taken birth control to its next level. I say "the world," because the U.S., once a world leader in contraceptive technology, is straggling. For now, anyway.
So what are these miraculous new methods? I’ll start with the most interesting: Pantycondoms; invented by Colombian scientists. The condom is built into the panty, and can be taken out and replaced affordably. It is apparently thinner, more resistant to pressure and friction, and as effective as a regular condom, yet much more portable and conveniently in place exactly where it’s needed. The condom and its refill are sold for $10.00, and refills are $3.00 in the U.S.
Available in Europe right now is a safe version of the IUD. If you’re not sure what the IUD is, it is a small plastic or metal object placed inside the uterus that prevents sperm from fertilizing eggs, or fertilized eggs from implanting in the uterine wall. Scandinavia’s version, called Mirena, lasts seven years, and also prevents uterine fibroids and limits cramps by delivering a hormone called levonorgestrel directly to the uterine wall. It is thought to be the safest IUD available, nearly as effective as sterilization, and it can be imported to the U.S. for roughly $340.00.
Another product in various forms is cervix covers or shields. The Lea Shield and the Oves Cervical Cap both fit over the cervix and if used correctly with spermicide jellies or creams can be 98% effective. The Lea Shield is one size fits all because it forms around but does not actually rest on the cervix, and the Oves Cervical Cap is available in three sizes. Both can be inserted hours before intercourse and taken out hours or even days later.
In Canada, there is a new kind of sponge on the market called the Protectaid Sponge. It is made of polyurethane foam injected with a unique gel called F-5. F-5 contains not one but three different spermicidal agents: Nonoxynol-9, Benzalkonium, and Sodium Cholate. The three are each in low concentrations to prevent vaginal or cervical irritation. A new vaginal contraceptive gel that can be imported to the U.S. is Advantage 24. It is spermicide protectant that not only provides 24 hour protection, but also bonds with the mucus in the vagina so you have much less of that nasty leaking.
I’ve been talking most about birth control that provides some kind of barrier, physical or chemical. There are also, for those with long-term relationships, other methods utilizing electronics. The Bioself Fertility Indicator measures your body temperature over time to determine ovulation; the Ovu-Trac natural fertility tester measures salt crystals in saliva that form as high estrogen levels occur just prior to ovulation, and the Persona measures urine samples given manually eight days a month. There are more like these available; they range from $50.00 to $250.00 per machine.
So what has America been up to? One somewhat exciting invention is a new lubricant called DeLube. It is designed to heighten sensitivity, provide a tingly feeling, and it has a spermicide to boot. But, besides that and the female condom, created six years ago, the U.S. has been pretty dormant about bringing out new forms of contraception to the American public. Why? Apparently, drug companies held liable for IUD lawsuits are feeling rather skittish. Well, I can somewhat understand that, and eventually that too will pass. But what about a drug offered in Europe and China called RU-486 that induces abortion up to seven weeks into pregnancy? This is, after years of debate, going to become available in the U.S. under physician’s guidance within the next few months. Because of public opinion, conservative politics, and pressure on drug companies from pro-life organizations to stay away from contraceptives that can be construed as abortive, the U.S. has fallen behind the times. It makes me decidedly frustrated that in a country as supposedly "free" as ours, contraceptives become a political, rather than a personal, matter.
Well, I fear I’ve painted a grim picture of contraceptives here, so let me offer some hope. There are many contraceptives being tested now in the U.S. Among the first to hit the markets in the new millennium will likely be Lunelle. A much safer version of Depo-Provera, it releases similar hormones to those in the pill and has very promising results. Out of 782 women that used it over 60 weeks, none became pregnant. The
company hopes to eventually have it out for self-injection. Another pretty revolutionary idea is a contraceptive ring. It is put in for three weeks, slowly releasing hormones to prevent pregnancy, and taken out the fourth week for menstruation. Also up and coming are hormone patches, a superlube that protects against STD’s
and pregnancy, disposable diaphragms, oral contraceptives that are taken continuously, thus eliminating menstruation and cramps, and a new improved Norplant2 with fewer rods. Personally, I’m quite excited about the pill that eliminates menstruation and cramps–I wonder if it works for other PMS symptoms.
With all this up-and-coming technology, however, I am curious to find out how safe these methods are for women’s bodies. I say "women’s bodies" because there is a definite lack of contraceptives for men. Last I heard it takes two to tango, yet most of the technology now available and on the horizon puts the responsibility in the woman’s hands. Something to think about. Well, you now have in your hands more information than you’ll probably ever need for safe sex–use it wisely!
Until next time, -V
Poetry
She sits, quietly
reflecting.
Thinking
of a past
almost forgotten.
Grateful for the escape
from the cruelty of
her private hell,
from the words
wielded as weapons,
from the lonely years
wasted,
waiting
for the love of a man
who knew not
how to love.
Michelle Barber
Rebecca Herzig Speaks for the Rock the Boat Series
by Jocelyn Barrett
On November 17th, Rebecca Herzig, Assistant Professor of Gender, Race and Science at Bates College spoke on campus as a part of the Rock the Boat Speaker Series. Professor Herzig gave a speech called "Skin, Hair and X-Rays: Making Race and Gender in Early 20th Century America." The talk focused on the phenomenon of using x-rays as a means of removing women’s "unwanted body hair", and lighten African Americans’ skin tone to become more socially acceptable in the 1920s in America. People, especially women, were encouraged, and continued to use this method for cosmetic reasons even after it had been proven to have disastrous results on the subject’s health. The talk focused on the social pressure to aspire to a physical ideal, defined by society, that women were demanded to achieve, despite the consequences.
Professor Herzig was engaging, her sources and research were indisputable. The audience alternately gasped with horror, and laughed at how ludicrous the idea was. In the end we came away knowing about something that I’m sure most were unaware of going into the talk. What seems to make no sense to us today, (putting oneself at phenomenal risk of cancer, and knowing it, for cosmetic reasons), made sense to women in the twenties. It makes one think that with the dangerous diet fads, chemicals we put into our bodies, and ways we abuse ourselves to be "attractive", have we really advanced so far as we’d like to think?
14th Annual Maine Women’s Studies Conference
by Alana Querze
This years women’s studies conference topic was [En]Gendering Technology. All the discussions were connected somehow to how technology was impacting the world of women and feminism. The first session I went to was a talk about The Body as Tool, which was hosted by Linda Tatelbaum. Linda was a back to the simple life kinda gal, ahe had started her own farm with her husband to live off the fat o the land for a while. She talked about how she used her body as a tool for everything she did. I know, I knos, that doesn’t sound like the most interesting topic, but it was actually very interesting and the audience and I were very involved.The keynote speaker was Sandra Harding who is from UCLA. She talked about Technology: Issues for a Multicultural and Postcolonial World. Ya, well I’m very sure if I had a doctorate in women in women’s studies I might have pulled something from the hour long talk, but really I didn’t understand what she was trying to say and neither did the people I was sitting near.In session II, I went to a music technology kinda talk. I was introduced to P J Harvey’s music; I thought her music was okay. I was also shown how commercials for techno musical instruments were very phalic and male oriented. I think the main point of all the talk was about how women haven’t broken into the field fo music technology for the same reason women have not traditionally been in the sciences.Session III was fun. I went to talk about internet stalkers and stuff like that. I was told about how there was so many XXX pages and how that reflected on our culture. Overall, I had fun, but the food wasn’t as good as last years as UMF.
Farmington’s New Center for Family Health
by Jocelyn Barrett
Alice Sammon is a midwife from New York who has recently moved her practice to downtown Farmington. As a means of introduction, she has opened her office space up to the public, displaying her personal collection of birth art. I had the pleasure of having Alice take me through the twenty or so statues, prints, paintings and books, describing not only their cultural significance, but also what they mean to her personally. We stood in front of each piece, and she described its origin as though she had just gotten it. She was excited about the beautiful things she was sharing, nudging me and gesturing, occasionally covering her mouth with her hand as though stifling a chuckle of pure pleasure.
And the art was worthy of praise. There was a vivid black and white photograph of a pair of dark, strong hands, a midwife’s hands, handing a wondering baby to its mother. Of the statues, one was bought commercially in the Southwest; granite colored and heavy it was the image of mother as protector, her child swirled up in her robes. Two figurines by Alice’s daughter were among the collection – one of a woman bent at the waist, creating a circle with her body, and the other the form of a pregnant woman dancing. The sketch that remains most vividly in my mind is a self-portrait called Birthing Daniel by Diane Sheehan, a pastel drawing that shows, from behind, a woman in labor on her hands and knees. She is wide, and solid and powerful.
One thing this collection of birth art did was to prove, without a doubt, that "birth" is not necessarily a specific piece of time. This birth art includes families before and after a new baby, women at all stages of pregnancy, women who are not pregnant, women with children of different ages. The running theme through everything was women.
"Birthing a child," Alice said, "I think, is one of those moments in a woman’s life where the strength she has, and uses every day, is affirmed. I think it gives us a chance to recognize the power that is always there, and always being used." Midwives aren’t just there for birthing – midwifery is about women, caring for women at all stages of their lives – Midwife means "with woman."
Alice Sammon has been practicing midwifery for sixteen years. She was a midwife lobbyist in New York State, and was one of the core group of women who facilitated the creation of a national midwifery certification. She resigned just last year as Director of Testing for the North American Registry of Midwives in order to come to Maine and open her practice. She chose Maine simply because she loves the area, and has been coming here for vacations with her family for twenty years. She asked where a midwife might be needed the most, and chose our little town over Portland (too crowded) and Bangor (not crowded enough). "The college was a big factor in my decision," she said, "I have friends in Wilton, and the campus would make the population more receptive to the idea of an active home birth center."
Alice’s hopes for the center include providing information to empower women in the choices they make about their health, giving support to families throughout life’s cycle, and of course providing a positive and supportive home environment as an option for the birth procedure. There will be a variety of workshops and opportunities for personal counseling, including preconception counseling, personalized prenatal care, home birth services, breast-feeding support, postpartum support, and menopausal support. I was also excited to hear that Alice offers post-abortion counseling for those women who need it. "Without any judgment," she said. "For some women, having an abortion leaves them with a
need to explore their feelings about what has happened in a safe, supportive environment. We are experienced in helping women let go and feel healthy about their decision, if that is something they need to do." She also specializes in labor support, doula support, nutritional and herbal consultations, and counseling and support for "after the baby."
I think that most women would benefit from talking to Alice on a one to one basis; she has a wealth of knowledge about women’s health – spiritual, emotional and physical – and is going to be a wonderful addition to the women’s health resources we have in Farmington. Counseling sessions are by appointment. The Birth Art Exhibit is running December 6th through the 17th, Tuesday Thursday and Friday, 10-1 PM, and Monday and Wednesday, 3-6 PM. A monthly information night is held the first Tuesday of every month a 7 PM. On December 6th at 7 PM, Pathways is offering a Holistic stress reduction workshop, which we could all benefit from I’m sure. More information is available on page 17 in the calendar of events. The phone number for the Pathways Center is 778-6082; the office is located on Main Street, upstairs from the Sun Journal Office. -9-
Everything I Ever Needed to Know I Learned from Xena: Warrior Princess
by Sharon Parker
I used to spend a sizeable chunk of my time wondering how to handle the various dilemmas that came up during my-day-to-day life. I wanted to do right by myself and the people around me, but I didn’t have all the answers. I looked to religion, philosophy, music, art, and literature to help me, but as much as I searched for something that could guide me through my life I just couldn’t find that one all-knowing source. Well, as singer/songwriter Dar Williams pointed out in one of her songs, "Sometimes life gives us lessons sent in ridiculous packaging." While pet-sitting over the summer for someone with cable tv, I started watching the television show Xena: Warrior Princess every evening and discovered that Xena had an answer for almost everything that could possibly come up. Every episode had a moral that fit some situation in my life.
First of all, Xena and her sidekick, Gabrielle, are the ultimate feminists. Neither of them feels that they need a boyfriend/husband/significant other in their lives in order to feel more complete. They both always stand up for what they believe in, no matter what the consequences may be. If they discover a situation where women are being exploited, they always step in and eliminate the problem. I always cheer when this happens, because I feel that we feminists are under-represented by the media and it can be very discouraging to come home after a long day of activism to turn on the tv and see shows like Baywatch and Ally McBeal.
Xena has been around and done almost everything, usually with Gabrielle in tow. The Warrior Princess discovered that beauty pageants are degrading to women when she posed as "Miss Amphipolis" in the "Miss Known World" pageant in order to uncover an evil plot. Xena helped David defeat Goliath the giant, and helped Helen of Troy defeat the Greeks hiding in the legendary Trojan horse. She discovered CPR when Gabrielle was accidently killed by soldiers who had meant to kill the members of a rival religion. Gabrielle, who recovered from her brush with death without any lasting damage, invented charades and was partially responsible for the creation of Stonehenge. She also taught Xena how to trust and love simply by being Xena’s friend no matter what happened.
The complexity of relationships was a subject I had been mulling over since last spring, and Xena came to my rescue by exploring the friendship that Xena and Gabrielle have built in the past four years. Neither character has been involved with anyone romantically in about a year and a half, and both women often declare their love for each other, but the relationship they have is presented by the show’s writers as platonic. While some fans believe it is only a matter of time before this situation changes and the "true" nature of Xena and Gabrielle’s relationship comes out (no pun intended), I like it just the way it is. I have been questioning the idea our culture has that our most intense relationships have to be sexual or romantic in some way. I believe that we can form our most intense bonds outside of our sexual/romantic couplings, and the show has gone far to prove my point. Xena and Gabrielle have realized that they are destined to be together for all of eternity; their souls are bound together so that they will always find each other, no matter when or where they are reborn, but they are not lovers.
Whatever the lesson I learned from each Xena episode, the show is worth watching for the entertainment value alone. Xena can kick the stuffing out of villains whether or not she has her sword and her chakram handy. I’ve seen her take out bands of ten or more using cooking utensils, a cartload of dead fish, and a wet towel. While the show is a little violent, Xena only kills as a last resort and Gabrielle not at all. Episodes are often humorous (I’ve found myself lying on the floor laughing too hard to sit up) or heart-wrenchingly serious and always have a moral to their stories. The show has taught me lessons about friendship, learning to accept all parts of ourselves–even the disturbing, dark parts–and embrace them, to follow my heart even when what I want for myself is not what someone else might want for me, and to stand up and be comfortable with who I am. Xena: Warrior Princess might seem like an odd place to find one’s life lessons, but it works for me.
You can find Xena: Warrior Princess on channel 5 at 5 PM, and WB 11 (that’s Farmington’s channel 33) at 8 PM, on Saturday nights.
For more information about the show and its characters, check out Sharon’s web site at http://members.tripod.com/Sharoane/xena.htm
Wringers Squeeze Into Modern History
by Amber Churchill
"You kin git rid of the ole scrub, Ma! This heah’s one of those new-fangled inventions called a wringer washer."
Four men, the family dog weaving excitedly between their legs, are bent under the extreme weight of modern technology. They situate the machine in a place of honor. This place is determined by the fact that they can no longer carry it. The men, glistened with sweat, beam with pride. They dust off their hands and strut importantly through the door like peacocks. Thus ends their involvement in "laundry day," unless you want to factor in their contribution to dirtying laundry.
Wash tubs have been around forever, but wringers were added in the late 1800's. While surfing the net, I found some interesting facts. According to "The Innovative Women," New Scientist, 24 May 1984, a black woman named Ellen Eglui invented wringers. In 1888, she sold the patent rights for $18.00 because, as she puts it, "You know I am black, and if it was known that a black woman patented the invention, white ladies would not buy the wringer. I was afraid to be known because of my color, in having introduced into the market, that is the only reason" [sic]. In 1927, wringer washers became the norm. With the addition of a motor, that machine could hum along all day, even though your back gave out around noon. Automatic washers came on the scene around 1947, and by 1953 were outselling wringers ten to one.
Most of these "wringers," as we affectionately called them, consisted of a large tub with an agitator in the center. The agitator, aptly named, would slosh back and forth and up and down. If you were stupid enough to stick your hand inside this tub before turning the agitator off, you were in danger of pulling out a bruised, sometimes bloodied hand. Ninety-nine percent of wringer washer users have been exposed to this delightful experience. I should tell you that in addition to the tub of the machine, you needed an extra tub, supported on whatever is handy. This tub was used for rinsing the clothes, and the water had to be changed several times during the day. Now you had to worry about the children falling into this tub of water, to say nothing about the kittens. Wet kittens look funny though. They can scream really loud too. But that’s another story.
You could let the clothes "pound" while you busied yourself with other things, like cooking meals, cleaning house, all that fun stuff. When the clothes were cleaned to your satisfaction, then came the daring part. Wringers were generally constructed with two pieces of wood resembling rolling pins. The rolling pins were wired together as tight as you could get them. When you turned on a lever, these little beasts started turning. You had to take a small portion of the clothing and ease it between these pins. The pins then had a mind of their own. There was no turning back! You had to hold on to the heavier clothes so that the wringers wouldn’t jam. When it did jam, there was a release lever you could slap with the palm of your hand. You usually ended up with a bruised or bloodied palm because of this action. Never, under any circumstances, did you stick your fingers near these wringers. If one did a survey on women with missing or mangled fingers, I am sure most of them would have lived in the late 1800's and early 1900's, and could play the piano with only two to three fingers.
Wringers teach a valuable lesson in the merits of super fast reaction powers. If you let just the tip of your finger get nipped by these wringers, your first reflex is to yank it out. Your heart starts to palpitate, you break out into a cold sweat, your blood pressure skyrockets, and you drop into the nearest chair, cursing the day these damn things were invented. When your functions return to normal, you experience a new determination. ‘This machine is not going to get the best of me!’ But you have just started the first load of wash today. You will have many more harrowing events before the last article of clothing is finally on the clothesline.
I have been treated to many mishaps with wringers. You would be surprised at how many parts of the female anatomy can get stuck in those wringers. If you don’t ask, I won’t have to tell. The most horrendous thing I have ever seen happened to my younger sister. She had waist length hair. We were doing laundry one day and it was her turn to put clothes through the wringer into the rinse water. It was unbelievably hot that day. Both of us were covered with sweat and our hair was matted to our foreheads. Her hair slipped out of the barrette, and the wringer grabbed her hair. When she started screaming, I looked up and saw what was happening. I froze. By the time I hit the release lever on the machine, a wad of her hair had been pulled from her head. She had a spot the size of a fifty cent piece taken from her scalp.
Wringer washers demanded respect, and they got it!
Hanging clothes on the line sounds like a simple task, and it is, in the summer. Try it in the winter. WOW! Those still dripping articles froze almost before you could get them on the line. You would hang one sheet, reach down to get another, and encounter a solid sheet of ice, pun intended. There was nothing, short of catching a body part in the wringer, that could compare with getting smacked in the face with frozen clothing. If you had started to doze off, there was Mother Nature’s remedy for refocusing your attention. You almost looked forward to getting your hand stuck in the wringer. The friction would restore some heat to portions of your hands. I truly don’t know which was worse. But ultimately, there was that wonderful smell of the fresh outdoors. I mean that sincerely.
I, for one, am very happy with automatic washers. But there is a down side to them. Wash day has become mundane. It lacks the gut-wrenching challenge, that thrill of victory, the sense of pride you felt when you fell into bed at night. Maybe getting the laundry on the line was the only thing that got done all day, but what an accomplishment. Now we just push some buttons, and wringer worries fly out the window, along with the fear of having to perform a survey on fingerless women. The next thing you know, your friendly neighborhood repairman will be saying, "You kin git rid of your ole automatic, Ma. This heah’s one of those new-fangled inventions called ‘never gets dirty clothes.’"