Periods Gone Public

Periods Gone Public

Adult nonfiction
My first two menstruation related memories are, to put it
charitably, bizarre. I was an 11-year-old Girl Scout at camp in the
first. My cabin mates must have been really stepping on the
counselors' last nerve. (I probably was one of the instigators.) They
offered us an unusual bribe. If we would just leave them alone they'd
lend us a strictly taboo transistor radio. At one point our music was
interrupted by the news flash that the Pope had hemhoraged to death.
The next morning I woke up to a terrified scream. You can guess what
one of the girls had discovered.
When I woke a counselor up with the news that a cabinmate was
bleeding to death like the Pope she began laughing, which didn't seem
like an appropriate response to the imminent demise of one of her
charges. At the cabin she sent all of us but the stricken girl
outside. When she emerged she assured us that our friend was not
going to die, get sent home, or even spend the night in the
infirmary. End of discussion.
When I was 14 my usually strictly honest mother had put the date
of my first period on a form. Only it had not happened. When I asked
her why she was lying on an official document she explained that that
was to be our little secret. We wouldn't want people to think that
there was something wrong with me.
Jennifer Weiss-Wolf, quoted above, would not have been
surprised. New Years Day 2015 she had an epiphany. She'd taken part
in the annual Polar Bear Club Swim. When she went on Facebook to
share her pictures a post caught her eye. A family was collecting
period products for a food pantry. She wondered how, as a feminist,
she could have not become previously aware of period poverty. A
Google search turned into a life mission.
"...After hours, I kept reflecting on menstruation, placing it
squarely in the context of social justice, civic participation, and
gender equity. Before long I began to connect with journalists,
lawmakers, activists, and entrepreneurs, and I found myself entrenched
in a growing global network of people who were equally intrigued and
motivated by the power of periods.
The fruit of Weiss-Wolf's labor is Periods Gone Public. Equal
parts research data, personal narratives of others, and her own
intimate journey, it's currently the closest thing we have to a badass
period bible. The book sets menstruation practices and cultural
beliefs within historic and global contexts. Intersectionality is the
context in which her discourse takes place. Although there are many
specific examples of problems and attempted solutions, larger
questions are posed. My favorite section is the one on seeing a wide
range of policy options through a menstrual lens. And there is
acknowledgement that current best practices may be in conflict. Green
products, for example, better for the environment and the human body,
may be too costly for low income people in developed countries and a
no starter in places where menstruating people have no access to safe
changing places and enough water for cleaning selves and reusable
products.
Periods Gone Public is a clarion call to take action.
"At its core, a menstrual movement, and Periods Gone Public, is
about challenging all of us to face stigma head-on. And about
advancing an agenda that recognizes the power, pride, and absolute
normalcy of periods. Indeed, President Trump, we do have blood coming
out of our wherever. Every month. It is not a secret."
Amen to that!
On a purrrsonal note, I've been a party animal recently. Two
celebrations in three days! Quite the social life for a grad student.
On Thursday we had Gay Thanksgiving. I volunteered from set up
to clean up, rocking all my state of the art food service skills. I
instructed the other servers on safe food handling. (Manager Anna
would have been so proud.) We had a big, happy crowd show up and more
that enough food to satisy them. The solidarity and sense of
community were tangible. For a number of LGBTQ people there it was
Thanksgiving of the heart because calendar Thanksgiving with the
family won't be anywhere near as welcoming and accepting.
This week we'll have Multicultural Thanksgiving. I was given
the option of just going. I don't have to volunteer just because I'm
aces at food service. Actually I'm more comfortable volunteering. I
guess it's just part of who I am.
Saturday was the appreciation dinner for community garden
volunteers. Homemade soup and bread, salad and pie, wine, a fireplace
fire, background music, and really good people. We had it all. We
made plans for future gardens. We had awards. Once again I got most
sociable gardener. We did the garden during the period when Joey had
cancer and died. Somehow even clinically depressed I'm perceived as
sociable. We enjoyed a movie showing the progress of the garden.
We had wine in lovely glasses. I decided I would lead a toast.
I talked about how professors in my department are encouraging me to
think big and pursue my own research interests. I proposed a toast to
my future. Everybody was happy to drink to that. It was truly a
magic moment. I know that tradition says you make a toast for someone
else. But when something truly amazing happens in your life, screw
tradition.
Great big shout outs go out to everyone involved in both celebrations.
jules hathaway



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