
POWER

I was yet to feel my own power If power arrived in my letter  box
I'd think it was another catalogue

But then power found me I was bathing my child I was  healing  my
spirit  I  was  working  to  stop rape technically I was still in
disgrace male-identified, dependant, depressed.

Power moved so close to me I  could  smell  cotton  and  sweat  I
wanted  to dance I wanted to exonerate myself I wanted to respond
for all I was worth

Undo all my closed bits, shake  my  hair,  move  about  feel  her
energy and my own strength.

LYNDA M.RUSHTON 20.3.91 (As previously published in Heartland).



GIRLS CAN'T DO ANYTHING                       -by  Shannon  Adams
-----------------------

GIRLS CAN DO ANYTHING proclaims a  bumper  sticker   which  is  a
popular  feature  on  the rear end of West End cars and bicycles.
Important though this assertion may be it always  prompts  me  to
consider  how  real is the range of choices facing  women and men
in everyday life. Are we truly able to walk through life  like  a
supermarket  and  pop  our  chosen  activities  in  our  shopping
trolley? Is what stands between us and freedom just a  choice  of
which lifestyle to consume?

I suspect not.

As a member of a West End group of women interested  in  anarcho-
feminism  it  appears  to  me  that  an understanding of power is
essential in extending  the  ways  in  which  we  can  experience
empowerment  and real choice.  This power is not a simple door to
a wide world, a door which women (and men) can open and then take
their  chosen  direction.   The  power  oppressing women is not a
simple glass ceiling preventing  career  advancement,  a  ceiling
which  could  be  shattered  to liberate women to become managing
directors and presidents in  turn.   Neither  is  it   only  that
violence which might wound us in our home, or that violence which
could force itself into our bodies.  For I  perceive   us  to  be
entwined  with  delicacies  of power which are far more insidious
than what society does or does not permit women or men to do. The
power  is  inside  our  bodies  already.   Painting our pictures,
influencing our words and absence of words, judging ourselves and
our bodies, and present in our most deeply considered choices.

And so I do not think girls can do anything, any  more  than  men
can. Choices are far more complicated.

Girls could do anything but so many anythings   are  outside  our
current  imaginings,  or  are  rendered impossible in the current
culture.   Even words are unable to frame many  thoughts  and  so
thoughts  are charged with vague sensations.  I have a quickening
of my pulse when I sense the possibility of what I could do.  But
I  do  not  do it because IT does not exist as a choice.  IT does
not have a place.  IT does not have money  attached  to  it.   IT
does  not  have a name.   Yet how many of us have similar desires
and imaginings of relationships and  lives  less  warped  by  the
abuses  of hierarchical power, less constrained by the demands of
an economy in which money  equals  self  esteem  and  success  is
measured by rising through the pyramid of control.

And so I consider that we must continue to give  thought  to  the
making   of  new  ways  and  new  choices  ,and  also  to  create
relationships with those who might imagine a world  as  different
to  this  one  as  we  do.  Because none of us are pure.  None is
unshaped by the experience of Power Over us, through  us  and  in
us.   Men  who  chose  to  become  anarchists  can no more purify
themselves of sexism by wearing the ANARCHIST label than they can
in  swallowing  a bottle of detergent. Their words grow louder in
the face of domestic activity.  Neither are women  suddenly  free
from  the constraints of the standard stories of what it is to be
a woman when they encounter feminism.  Our  old  desires  do  not
fall  from  us like a cocoon.  Instead we might hide our impurity
more closely, or deny our sexism with more sleight of hand.

Politics and personal change begin in our  everyday  lives.   The
grand  plans  which  we lay take their first step before we leave
our beds,  in our sexual politics.  The shape of our lives is not
an  individual  responsibility  but  a continual feat of choosing
among limited  possibilities  and  admissible  dreams  which  are
shaped  within  the  power  structures of contemporary Australian
societies.

We cannot make ourselves suddenly  new.   I  do  not  believe  in
mystical  rebirths (or I should be dunking myself in the Brisbane
River) but we might become different parts of  ourselves  in  the
community  of  others  with  similar desires.  All of us might do
anything, among those committed to  freedom  and  change  in  our
everyday lives.

Without support  and  commitment,  it  is  more  likely  that  we
struggle   individually   to   make  a  confined  but,  possibly,
comfortable nest, in the corner allowed us.  In such corners  one
can certainly not do anything!





