Maternal Line

para MC

If you were my daughter:

you would know the joy

of walking barefoot on a rainy day

And how mud squelches just so

between your toes

And how the air smells of rebirth

and uncried tears from what life

throws in your direction, every day.

You would know the stars in their constellations better

than the ones on television, and the color

of your dreams would matter more

than the color of your nail polish.

 

You would know how to enjoy going to the movies

or to the beach or on vacation, alone.

You would enter the playing field

in tennis shoes, not sandals. The integrity of

your “no” would value as much as your “yes,”

and you would know to reject anyone

who thinks otherwise. You would learn

how to forgive, walk away from, and firebomb

your enemies- and which application

suits what situation. Without apology.

 

If you were my daughter, you would never need

to hide or deny or negate your love,

and its expression; you would never

be ashamed of your desires and passions.

your boyfriend or girlfriend

would be welcome in my home.

And when love forsakes you,

when dreams elude you,

when employers overlook you,

when life abuses you in the street-

you will learn the truth

 

That the same genes that give compassion

also produce warriors- and they

are hereditary in the maternal line.

 

 

 

Author's Note

In my professional work, I often run up against elements of overt and covert sexism. The country I live in is classified by a recent UN report as one of the world’s 10 worst places to be a woman. The girls and young women and career-changers I work with tell me of lack of role models, of oppression within their families and communities, of threats, of suicidal depressions. They talk of pressure to give up their identities after marriage and conform to others’ expectations of child bearing. The examples provided to them in media are of beauty queens and pageantry- not of leadership, voice, power, intelligence. Many girls flee their communities under threat of death for refusing advances from a much older male interested in them sexually. I work in communities where the supposed desirable age for selecting your wife is when she is 14 years old. Many of the girls we interviewed after deportation from the US told us of fleeing home, and trying work as child prostitutes before giving up and crossing a continent alone, seeking refuge- usually sexually exploited along the way, as well, and even after arrival. Even worse, those whose interests or sexuality fall outside of normal face expulsion, excommunication, or, in extreme cases, lynching.
This poem was written for one girl I counseled, who falls into more than one of these categories.
Picture was taken by my closest associate. It is a little girl from one of his community reforestation projects in the town where he lives. One can clearly see the effects of poverty on her face- but also her humanity. And hope.


this is another poem translated from its original in Spanish.
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/zorra_encantada/1826447/

Reviews

[AlinaTheCacti]

beautifully written! This is how everyone parent or guardian should treat their child and others and what they should wish for them.

Inspirational Poems Contest

[Mary]

This stunning poem speaks true and it has always been my wish for my daughter (and sons). Thank you for putting into words what so many of us know but rarely express. Such a beautiful gift!

[Ellen Hammond]

Wow!!! This brings tears to my eyes as I think of so many girls throughout the world who need someone to teach them their worth and stand up for them in all the various, male-dominated societies. This needs to be read by everyone. Great job!